412C
EXILE
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
THE CAREER OF BEAUTY DARLING
THE STORY OF EDEN
CAPTAIN AMYAS
AS YE HAVE SOWN
MAFOOTA
ROSE-WHITE YOUTH
THE PATHWAY OF THE PIONEER
TROPICAL TALES
THE RIDING MASTER
THE UNOFFICIAL HONEYMOON
YOUTH WILL BE SERVED
THE RAT TRAP
VERSES
EXILE
AN OUTPOST OF EMPIRE
BY
DOLF WYLLARDE
AUTHOR OF "THE STORY OF EDEN," "THE RAT TRAP,"
"THE CAREER OF BEAUTY DARLING," ETC.
NEW YORK
JOHN LANE COMPANY
M CM XVI
Copyright, 1916, by
JOHN LANE COMPANY
Press of
J. J. Little & Ives Compary
New York.U.SA.
EXILE
2139000
EXILE
CHAPTER I
"O, eyes on eyes ! O, voices breaking still,
For the watchful will,
Into a kinder kindness that seemed due
From you to me and me to you!
And that hot-eyed, close-throated, blind regret
Of woman and man baulked and debarred the blue !"
W. E. HENLEY.
THE lamps had just been lit in the Club at Exile,
and burned steadily despite the wind that al-
ways blows at night round the club-house four can-
dle-lamps to each bridge table. The game was popu-
lar, and there were so many tables that some of them
were set out beyond the verandah, on the stretch of
gravel between the club-house and the sea, where
people had been having tea at sunset. Several ladies
were still there, chatting to the accompaniment of the
sea lapping beneath the stone wall, while the ships
and smaller craft in Exile Harbour blossomed into
electric stars and riding lights. The new dockyard
lay out of sight behind Fort Headland, and the old
harbourage retained its picturesqueness. It was a
pretty scene, with the artificial effect often produced
in foreign stations such as Exile, and which reaches
its perfection in the Yacht Club at Bombay. Indeed,
7
8 EXILE
Exile is not a little proud of the fact that its tiny
Club is like a miniature imitation of Bombay's, if you
swept the latter bare of every blade of grass and green
growing thing. Bombay does not share this view.
It looks upon Exile as the abomination of desolation,
and the Club as a pitiable effort to endure existence
in the desert.
Nevertheless the Exile Club has surroundings that
can be seen nowhere else in the world, and if they
strike you aghast you will not call them theatrical
at least. For up behind it tower the Rocks, in forma-
tion and colour like bronze icebergs piercing the sky,
and across the harbourage is Banishment islet, behind
which the sun sets. To see the sky torn with flame
behind Banishment and each delicate point o'f its
jagged teeth traced black upon the boiling clouds is a
miracle of colour and form. And yet people in Exile
may see it every night.
Five men were standing on the Club verandah,
watching the bridge tables fill up and talking raw
scandal. There is little else to do in Exile between
the shifts of work, and after six months of the life
people begin to take a savage delight in their neigh-
bours' sins, knowing that they cannot hide their own.
Exile is too blatant and too barren to hide anything,
or perhaps it is the influence of the horrid formation
of its craters that hardens and blasts humanity. The
Rocks drive men mad. All day the sun beats upon
them until they glare back and blind human eyesight,
and at night the heat conies off them again like the
breath of a furnace. That is why the bungalows are
built high up the slopes, to get above the stench of it
and into the upper air. The Club, being on the shore,
EXILE 9
depends upon the wind that blows off the sea at night.
But nobody goes there before six o'clock.
Of the five men talking scandal one was Tommy
Bride, the port surgeon, who was booked to the
Admiral's table so soon as he should appear; the
man next to him was Richmond Hervey, Govern-
ment engineer, the man who had made the existence
of Fort Exile possible; and of the rest, two were
service men 'Flag-Captain George Bunney, R.N.,
Chief of Staff, and Lieutenant Robert Yarrow, of the
Marines the last of the group being the Colonial
Secretary, Rodney Haines.
"Everard is back, I hear," said Bride to Richmond
Hervey. "The seraglios of Banishment don't seem
to have held the usual attractions for him !"
"He was officially reported at Port Health," said
Hervey grimly.
"Lies, my dear fellow; he was at Banishment, of
course, with a filthy crowd of native women. The
man's a swine in his tastes. I met his carriage once
after dark in Reserve taking home a woman of the
bazaars. Fact!"
"He isn't back yet though," said Rodney Haines,
turning his head from a discussion on polo with
Yarrow. "His sick leave is not up. The court begins
to sit next month."
"Then we shall see more 'justice* done!" said
Bunney with a laugh. "His Jewish friends want
the monopoly of the silk trade (not to mention the
Arab, Hassan), and Azopardi & Co. have been doing
a good deal in that line. They're in the way. You
mark my words, Azopardi will be had up for larceny
or something trivial, like Lestoc was, and he'll go."
10 EXILE
"Lestoc's trial was for embezzlement, wasn't it?*'
corrected Haines. "Poor devil! that six months in
an Arab prison put him out of the running for ever,
I'm afraid."
"It's simply damnable!" burst out Yarrow of the
Marines. He was the youngest of the group, and not
yet cynical. "The man's using his position to openly
mishandle justice. He made Lestoc a bankrupt, and
then sent him to prison to get him out of the way.
What on earth are the Home authorities doing.? Why
doesn't the Admiral interfere?"
"There's no jury except on criminal cases; the
Chief Justice has it all in his own hands," said Haines
curtly. "That's Exile. Oh, I grant you that there's
an appeal to the Supreme Court of Bombay if it's a
question of 10,000 rupees, or if he gives a sentence
of two years' imprisonment; but a clever man can
easily avoid that. When Yale went home on six
months' leave and Everard was made Acting Chief
Justice he had a few old scores to settle with the silk
merchants. Well, he's settled them."
"But to simply trump up a charge and fling any
one into prison who was in his way! I should have
thought it was impossible in this century."
"Not at all in Exile. Besides, the Admiral's only
just back from leave himself, and Everard's got the
safe side of him at present," said Bunney. "Even
if he knew, I don't quite see what he could do. No
action at law can lie against an officer in the position
of Acting Chief Justice; I ascertained that for my
own satisfaction. A Petition to the Colonial Secre-
tary was the only thing, and it takes some time to
EXILE ii
get the Home authorities to move in the matter. In
the meantime Mr. Everard goes gaily on his way."
"He's such a damned fine pleader!" said Dr. Bride
cynically. "The man really has the gift of the gab;
he can almost make you believe that black is white."
"When the Petition gets home there will be an
investigation," said Haines. "And then Everard will
crumble all to pieces. There is too much against him
for a single man to carry unless he were a Samson,
which E. E. is not." He glanced half involuntarily
at Hervey, as if some possibility struck him; and
indeed the man was much more of a Samson than the
Chief Justice. He was of a heavy build that might
have been fleshy in a colder climate, but Exile does
not leave superflous fat on men's bones, and Richmond
Hervey was gaunt rather than stout. His face was
broad-browed and square- jawed, and the hair on the
massive head was grey, though a great deal thicker
than most of the younger men's. He was not prepos-
sessing in appearance, and though the Colonial Secre-
tary liked him much, personally he wondered for the
twentieth time that the man should be so notorious in
his loves. There were few women in Exile whose
names had not been rightly or wrongly coupled with
his, and they seemed unable to resist him once he
turned his attention to them. Why, at the present
moment his affair with Mrs. Bride, who was sitting
over there chatting to Mrs. Everard, was common talk.
Mrs. Bride's eyes had not once strayed to the group on
the verandah, but Haines saw her hands twitch before
the light darkened too much to betray her, and he
knew that she was undergoing a kind of drilling that
formed one of Hervey's amusements. . . .
12 EXILE
There was something of the artist in Rodney
Haines, and he divined the pains and penalties of his
fellows with the fine sensitiveness of the artist some
of them, but not all. Little Mrs. Bride's trouble was
an open book to him, too plain for indifference, but
of Mrs. Everard, the woman talking to her, he knew
nothing at all. There was little to be said of Mrs.
Everard, save that she was far and away the best-
looking woman in Exile, and that some dulness or
impassibility in her safeguarded her from scandal.
Her beauty was such an established fact that comment
on it was stale, and she attracted no one, not even her
own husband, who sought a change amongst the
seraglios of Banishment islet! If anything were said
of Mrs. Everard it was to pity her for being the wife
of the Chief Justice; but it was generally agreed that
she suffered less than any other woman would have
done on account of her thick skin. Even Rodney
Haines with his quick sympathies was not really think-
ing of her as he said, "Poor Mrs. Everard! I wonder
whether she realises the kind of skunk her husband
is?"
"No, I don't think she does," said Bunney can-
didly. "She is not a quick-witted woman, and Ever-
ard has that gift of representing himself exactly as
he wishes to appear. I'll bet you he has gulled his
wife so that she thinks him in the right even over
these judgments; and he'll gull the Home authorities,
too, if they come in personal contact with him. The
man knows his own power. There is nothing that he
is afraid of."
It was at this point that Richmond Hervey sud-
denly laughed. It was such a very unpleasant laugh
EXILE 13
that the other men all looked at him a little curiously,
and Haines moved instinctively away. But he was
not a pleasant person, and the extreme irony of his
laughter was probably the outcome of some far from
kindly joke known only to himself.
"If you talk of angels it is apt to make them flutter
their wings," he said with a sneer. "Mrs. Everard
is fluttering hers. She is undoubtedly one of our few
angels and as unattractive as angels usually are. Here
she comes 'unspotted from the world,' even in
Exile I" He was not ironical now, despite his ill-
nature. Indeed, he was conscious of a feeling of
discomfort which always attacked him on Mrs.
Everard's advent in his neighbourhood. She was the
only woman in Exile who made him feel ashamed of
himself in the most infinitesimal degree, and he hated
her for it.
"She is leaving early to-day; she generally stays
until Lady Stroud arrives," said George Bunney, fol-
lowing Mrs. Everard's progress across the gravel with
critical eyes. "She's more like a goddess than an
angel, Hervey. Great Scott, how she moves I It's
royal."
"Goddess or angel, it's equally painful to look up to
her I" said Hervey with a savage scorn of the truth.
"I hear that Lady Stroud has a niece of the Ad-
miral's arriving to-day, and has gone down to the
pier to meet the boat That is why she's late," said
Yarrow. "Merryn's on duty, of course." Merryn
was flag-lieutenant, and acted as A.D.C. to the Ad-
miral. "Dashed nuisance. I wanted him to play polo
this afternoon."
"Is Lady Stroud late, or is Mrs. Everard early in
I 4 EXILE
leaving?" said Dr. Bride idly. "It might be interesting
to know, because if it's the latter it may mean that
Everard is coming back to-night after all. I wonder
if he has heard of the Petition!"
The slightness of the speculation marked the rate
of interest in Exile, even local interest. Mrs.
Everard had almost reached the verandah while
they spoke, and passed into the great arc of light,
perfectly composed and unselfconscious in her
progress, though the talk fell short and the eyes of
all the men near were focussed upon her. The light
revealed every fold in her white gown and the rain-
bow silk of the scarf round her shoulders. She was
rather above the average height for a woman, and
built indeed as if for a pedestal. Her hair was like
unburnished gold, dull and rich, but not metallic,
and her skin had neither burnt nor faded for all the
suns and the burning heat of Exile. It was a very
white skin, pure and colourless, and her lips looked
the redder by contrast since she had no roses in her
cheeks. Her eyes were as nearly purple as human
eyes can be, with a dash of brown in them that at
times made them look wine-coloured, the brows and
lashes faintly black. And all this without a touch
of art to assist Nature! It was a mockery of all
established customs in Exile, a challenge flung down
to the laws of paint and powder.
She was looking 1 straight at the group of gossips as
she passed them, her steady eyes first falling on Dr.
Bride and then focussing for a minute on Rodney
Haines, so that her bow seemed made principally
to him. He raised his hat with a quickness that
seemed almost gratitude, and could have been
EXILE 15
equalled by no other man in the group. He had all
the responsiveness of the artist. But Mrs. Everard's
eyes glanced inclusively over Captain Bunney and
Richmond Hervey and Mr. Yarrow before she lowered
them with faint and general courtesy.
"She is certainly beautiful," said Rodney Haines,
as sure of not being contradicted as he was that not
one of the other men would be more interested than
he was himself. One does not grow enthusiastic
over the law of gravitation or the power of steam.
Both are proven facts, and no longer discoveries.
Mrs. Everard's beauty was of the same order.
She had passed with an unquickened step and an
unheightened colour; nor was there the least hurry
or betrayal in her of any emotion. Yet her heart
was beating so heavily that it was actual physical pain,
and the throbbing in her temples frightened her as
it always did from a certain proximity. With one
of those five men standing on the verandah she was
in love, so vitally and imperatively that the passion
of it swung her to the pendulum of its own force and
threatened to have its way with her. All she could
do was to hold her breath under the imperious power
and to preserve her outward calm so far that not one
of the group had as yet the faintest suspicion of it.
So far, so far but how much farther? It seemed
to her a blind force hurrying her along a road whose
end she could not even guess, and she never knew
whether it might not sweep her off her feet at any
moment. To be in the same room with the man she
loved caught her breath short as if the four walls
were not wide enough for the spreading fire between
them; to pass him as she had passed him to-night,
16 EXILE
one of a careless group, oblivious of her, made her
dizzy with the tingling sense of him; and yet it had
reached him so little that none of the five guessed it
more than another, and each of them might have
turned to his neighbour and said, "Is it you? is it
that other? which of us could it be, when all seem
impossible?"
Not one of them turned, indeed, to cast a glance
after her as her white figure vanished out of the light
on the verandah round the corner of the club-house
and was engulfed in shadow. As she emerged again
on the entrance front that opened on the road she
found herself facing a large motor car and two ladies
coming 1 into the Club. It was the Admiral's car,
and Mrs. Everard stopped to shake hands with Lady
Stroud.
"Leaving so soon, Mrs. Everard? I hoped you
would stay for bridge. May I introduce my husband's
niece, Miss Play fair?"
A very tall girl put out her hand a trifle readily, as
if the sight of Mrs. Everard pleased her, and in the
lights of the entrance they looked at each other curi-
ously, as strangers do in Exile where most things are
too familiar. Miss Playfair could not have been more
than twenty, and her face had the opening look of
a child or a flower. The large, candid eyes gave her
the expression of one always asking a question, a
little puzzled with life, the wonder of inexperience.
Yet she carried herself with the composure of the
modern English girl who is trained out of awkward-
ness by mental and physical athletics. To Mrs
Everard she flashed out suddenly pathetic in the
EXILE 17
glitter of the Qub lights, a young face seen for the
first time in Exile.
Lady Stroud turned back from the entrance as she
was piloting Miss Play fair into the Club, and motioned
her chauffeur to drive on.
"Are you looking for your car, Mrs. Everard?
Mr. Merryn is there; he will find it for you. Mr.
Merryn, do find Mrs. Everard's car and send our own
out of the way!"
A young man stepped out of the darkness with two
cloaks over his arm and the cumbered air of the
A.D.C. Lieutenant Merryn was fond of the Admiral
and Lady Stroud, and would have admitted that his
lines had fallen in pleasant places to be attached to
their staff; but his position, like all A.D.C.'s, was
more than that of a poodle and less than that of a
footman, since the former has no responsibility and
the latter knows where his duties begin and end.
Mrs. Everard stopped him as he was plunging into
the darkness again and pointed across the road.
"I have not got the car; it is with my husband.
I have been using one of Jalbhoy's carriages; it is on
the other side of the road."
A minute later it drove up, the abuggi bringing the
pair of ponies almost on to their haunches in the
display of his zeal, and Mrs. Everard was helped in
by the young man still standing in the road. Even
as the carriage swung round she heard Miss Play-
fair's clear young voice, unconsciously audible in the
hot night.
"Oh, Aunt Fanny! What a beautiful woman!
Who is she?"
Lady Stroud's reply was lost round the corner of
1 8 EXILE
the Club as they disappeared on to the verandah,
Mr. Merryn bringing up the rear with the cloaks.
Mrs. Everard leaned back upon the cushions of the
open carriage and stared straight ahead into the hot
black arc of the heavens, dazzling with stars. She
was not thinking of the girl's impulsive tribute to her
beauty, or of the flashing, cloudless sky, though she
liked Exile best at this hour, when it seemed as if the
heavens went back and back into limitless spaces of
black velvet, and the planets swung and flickered
from one horizon to the other. Her thoughts had
reverted to that moment when she passed the group
of men on the Club verandah the proximity of one
of them the rest of the world blotted out by his
indifferent personality. She need not struggle out
here under the stars; she could allow this wild love
to have its way with her, and with limbs relaxed she
let herself go, and felt the blood rush through her
veins at fever heat, and leave her now dry and tin-
gling, now moist and faint. The unsatisfied passion in
her did indeed make her feverish, and her throat ached
with unuttered sobs. It was these fits of physical pain
that she dreaded so, the outcome of her mental crav-
ing. For she was not a sensualist; only, her baulked
instinct racked heart and nerves alike.
The Chief Justice's bungalow lay out beyond the
fort, between the garrison buildings and Reserve.
All Service people lived in the fort, and most of the
officials, but the road ran out along the base of the
Rocks and through the new Cutting to Reserve, which
is the business town of Exile. From the Cutting high-
way a private road turned up the face of the Rocks,
climbing from ridge to ridge until it reached the bun-
EXILE 19
galow, perched upon a small plateau that would hardly
hold it and its narrow compound. Mrs. Everard
looked lower than the stars as she was driven along
the face of the Rocks to see their jagged outline pierc-
ing the night sky. She had a curious love for the
Rocks that was half revulsion. They were so part of
Exile that they seemed part of her life there also, and
her life was summed up for her in this headlong love
that had overtaken her. So she loved the Rocks as
martyrs love the sharp edges of the cross they press
into their flesh. It seemed to Claudia Everard that
the teeth of the Rocks cut into her life also.
The abuggi lashed his team as they began to ascend,
but he need not have done so, for the horses of Fort
Exile are trained to gallop once they turn uphill. Mrs.
Everard hated the sound of the blows, and called
sharply to the man to let them walk if they wished.
She spoke Arabic fluently after her two years in the
station more fluently than most of the men or any
of the women. The driver dropped his whip back
into its socket, but urged his horses instead with the
wild cry of the place, "Hoour-cheel! Hoour-cheel !"
And so they tore, straining and leaping, to the Chief
Justice's bungalow.
Mrs. Everard alighted in the compound and walked
into the house. The air was much fresher here than
it had been at the foot of the Rocks, but through all
the bungalow sounded the whir of electric fans, and
a cool draught greeted her as she entered the sitting-
room. There was electric light here too, and from
other bungalows spitted amongst the Rocks the
jewelled electricity was already shining across the
valleys and chasms. This was Richmond Hervey's
20 EXILE
work. He had brought the electric light to Govern*
ment House and the garrison already, though the
buildings on the shore had not yet had it installed.
The room which Mrs. Everard had entered was
both dining-room and drawing-room, running from
side to side of the bungalow. The dining-room por-
tion was only divided off by pillars, and the same
polished floor ran through and between them. The
drawing-room was octagonal in shape, with jalousies
that filled one end of it and were sheltered by a
verandah. It was as good a room as might be found
in Exile, and combined the advantages of air, seclu-
sion from the glare of day, and immunity from dust.
Even high up in the Rocks the whirling sand and dust
seemed to settle upon everything, but there was little
in the room to hold it neither curtains, carpets, nor
table covers. All the furniture was polished wood or
basket work ; the sole upholstery was in the quantity of
silk cushions. It struck any one entering as comfort-
able and even luxurious, but it shared a curious sense
of something lacking with all houses in Exile, and
strangers did not for a few minutes recognise that it
was the absence of flowers and plants that struck
them. As no green thing will grow on the Rocks'
without infinite care and labour, there are neither
flowers nor shrubs, except at Government House,
where some goldmore trees and a few cacti are
regarded as a necessary adjunct of royalty.
The restlessness of Mrs. Everard's trouble was still
upon her. She walked to a small table and took up
some "chits" that had arrived during the afternoon,
looked at them, and threw them down without open-
ing. Her heart still beat unpleasantly fast, and she
EXILE 21
had to struggle with a childish desire to cry. She
wondered if it were always to be like this if the mad-
dening proximity of one man were to scatter her self-
control to the winds and to make her feel as she felt
to-night. It seemed to her that it could not go on,
that it must either wear her out or she must wear it
out. And yet it had gone on for nearly two years.
She moved from the table to a mirror hanging on
the wall, and taking the pins out of her hat, threw it
on to a chair and looked at herself in the glass. She
was very pale, as if the fierceness of her own feeling
had burnt the life out of her, and her eyes looked
nearly black with distended pupils. It struck her as
horrible, and she shuddered at herself, pressing the
dull gold hair back from her hot forehead to try and
ease the pain in her temples. She was weary of her
own self-restraint and the ceaseless watch she kept
upon her nerves and senses.
"I am tired of saying 'No* to myself," she said to
that revealing face in the glass. 'I want to say one
big 'Yes I' now. Let the whole world be nothing but
'Yes' to everything I want."
She had not heard a step in the house certainly
no one had entered the room; but suddenly out of
the shadows of the verandah a voice said "Claudia 1"
She paused, looking back from the mirror, her face
settling into its mask of composure once more, and
again the voice said "Claudia! -Claudia!" with urgent
insistence. Then she turned and walked forward
deliberately to meet her husband.
He had come in through the open jalousies that led
on to the verandah, and she remembered that he might
have walked all round the bungalow that way from
22 EXILE
his own room, or hers, or the servants' quarters. But
there was a furtiveness in his manner that told her
at once that he had not apprised the household of his
presence and did not mean them to know. He turned
his head from side to side, looking up and down the
long bright rooms, and switched off some of the elec-
tric light, leaving none save that in the drawing-room
near the jalousies.
"Come further back in the room, so that we cannot
be seen from other houses," he said hurriedly, draw-
ing her behind the lamps. "The place is as light as
day!"
"I did not expect you till next week, Edgar," Mrs.
Everard said quietly. "Is anything wrong?"
"Yes the game's up," he said shortly, without any
preamble. "There's only one thing can save me now."
"The game !" repeated Claudia blankly. She looked
at his narrow, handsome face, as if she saw it for the
first time. Every betraying line of dissipation and
self-indulgence was startlingly distinct under the pres-
sure of some crisis that she could not divine, just as
her own face in the mirror had been marked by her
secret passion, she remembered. She had known for
years that there were many things in his life about
which she was to ask no questions, and had come to
accept the position until they lived in the same house
more remote from each other than if they had occu-
pied two bungalows miles apart. Indeed, there were
many men at the Club who knew more of Edgar
Everard than she did, shared his coarse confidence,
and could have followed his career with far more
comprehension than his wife. Now it seemed on the
EXILE 23
instant that she was to become an intimate again, a
friend in his confidence.
"You had better explain," she said, leading the way
back into the darkened drawing-room. "I know
nothing as yet."
"I have only half an hour," he said, glancing hur-
riedly at his watch. The whole situation came back
to her afterwards as having been breathless, words
and explanations falling over each other into her con-
sciousness, stunning her with revelation. "I have
been in Banishment I heard no news."
"Banishment ! Not to Health then ? I sent all your
correspondence to Health !"
"I know you did, but Murgatroyd forwarded it.
I was reported at Health, of course." He seemed
indifferent to her knowing any deception he had prac-
tised on her in the stress of the moment, yet his words
told her more than their bare worth. Men did not go
to Banishment for change of air as they went to
Health. The place was notorious a settlement of
native bazaars and houses of the lowest class. He
took it impatiently for granted that she should know
that, and if he had been asked he would have agreed
that every one, his wife included, must be aware of
his Arab house in Banishment. That she should be
ignorant was a tiresome hindrance at this juncture of
affairs.
Mrs. Everard put the revelation on one side with
the same composure to consider the crux of the case.
He recognised with relief that in a crisis she had a
clear brain, and the capacity of a man for grasping
essentials and letting side issues go.
"You had better tell me your exact difficulty, as we
24 EXILE
have so little time," she said. "You missed some
important information through being in Banishment
and not at Health. That I know. What is this in-
formation, and how does it affect you?"
For a minute he did not answer, and she saw him
moisten his lips as if he had some difficulty in form-
ing the words. She waited patiently, thinking that
he was putting his thoughts in order and condensing
the facts for her as he might have done in court.
Then he spoke suddenly, with a bald statement of
the case that seemed to strike her dumb.
"I wrote to Richmond Hervey after I went away,
asking him to join us in the silk combine and threaten-
ing him with certain consequences if he did not. I
thought I had him in a vice and that I could make my
own terms. We wanted his name on the directorate
Hassan, and Jacobs, and I; it would have made
everything safe. But Hassan wrote to me to Health
to tell me that we had made a slip it was madness
to ask Hervey to come in we had been misinformed.
I never got his letter."
Now it was Mrs. Everard who was silent, but her
silence was so imperative that he answered it.
"I know the one man of all others I should not
have tried it on. But I thought I had him tight
I tell you, I thought I had him tight!" He hurried
the words, and raised his clenched hand in the air to
show his meaning, as if he must force it on her under-
standing. Then his fingers relaxed and his hand fell
on the table heavily. "The thing is done Hervey
holds that letter as evidence against me," he said.
She still looked at him in that appalled silence.
"It is no case in itself," he said ; but his lips worked
EXILE 25
in a horrible manner, and his face grew gradually livid
as he spoke. "No action at law can lie against me
while I am in office. But I stated everything openly
in that letter I told him how I had cleared the way.
If he published it and it got known in the bazaars,
I could not show my face in the streets. I should
ask for a police guard. "
Then at last she spoke, below her breath, but as if
she saw something that frightened her more than the
menace of an Arab rising.
"Richmond Hervey you threatened him I You
must have been madl"
"Not mad, a gambler," he said quickly. "He was
our trump card in the silk combine. We stood to gain
wealth that one hardly estimates. Think of it!
the whole of the silk trade in our hands we should
have been millionaires. But I admit that I made a
slip over Hervey 1 was utterly out." He started as
some noise in the house caught his ear, and trembled
like a girl. His nerve was gone, and he showed as the
veriest coward. "I must go," he said, half rising.
"They're coming "
"No, it is only Abdulla carrying in the water jars,"
she said, laying her hand imperatively on his arm.
"Try to tell me more what was this scheme what
do you mean by clearing the way?"
"No time !" he muttered. "It's too long a tale. The
question is what is going to happen now. I shall go
out to Health "
"Really to Health?" she asked with unconscious
irony, "or to Banishment?"
"No, of course what folly! There is no escape
from Banishment. From Health I can get up the
26 EXILE
Gulf or through the Hydromaut and go to Europe.
I shall wait there till you wire me news."
"News?" she said half dully, staring at him with
wide eyes. She could not grasp her part in all this or
see where it was leading her.
"Yes, you must stop here go on for a day or so
as if nothing had happened, and find out for me what
Hervey is going to do."
"How?"
"How!" he echoed angrily, almost violently in his
fear. "Go to him, or make him come to you. Ask
him point-blank it's the only way with him. Offer
him anything. Do you hear? Anything. Let him
name his price for the letter. He wants the site of
Hassan's place out in Reserve for a power station
he can have that and anything else he likes to name.
Claudia, make him give you back that letter !"
His eyes were almost pitiful; he was childish in his
fear. It reached her stunned brain that there was
much more here than she yet knew that a long series
of events, piled up behind her husband, was looming
over his head now, jagged and unmerciful as the
Rocks. He was like a man who should see those
great pinnacles tremble, threaten to fall on him and
she could imagine nothing more awful. His terror
was somehow communicated to her, so that she found
herself saying, "No! no! you mustn't be afraid
we will manage somehow," as one might to a child
in the dark.
"Will you?" he almost whimpered. "You've got
a clear brain, Claudia you will think of something f
You can make Hervey attend to you you're the only
woman in Exile he respects, except Lady Stroud. Yes,
EXILE 27
he'll have to listen to what you suggest! When will
you see him ?" he broke off, rising with a little shiver.
"I am dining at Government House to-morrow
night -I mean I was," said Mrs. Everard, putting her
hands to her loosened hair as if a little confused. "Do
you still want me to go?"
"Good God! Yes, of course!" he said impatiently.
"It's imperative to go on in the ordinary way as long
as we can. Will Hervey be there?"
"I think so."
"Get hold of him, and tell him you want an inter-
view. And, Claudia" he turned his head in that
same hunted fashion even as he was leaving the room
"you might begin to pack up just a few things '
in case . . . Only don't alarm the servants don't
let it get to the bazaars !"
She nodded she was beyond words. But she called
after him under her breath, "Where are you going
now ?"
"The motor is in the road below. It will take me
to Hassan's to-night. I shall go on to Health to-
morrow. Murgatroyd will get any news through for
me don't write direct send it by him."
She heard his foot fall softly on the verandah a
stealthy step, like a thief's. Then she felt rather than
heard him cross the compound and drop down into
the road. He was gone almost before she knew that
he had come; but in this short half-hour it seemed to
her that he had laid the house in ruins all about her
broken up her home life altered the face of all the
outer world. The inner world her world, with its
centre-piece of hidden passion he could not alter,
because he had neither part nor lot in it.
28 EXILE
Mrs. Everard sat still at the little table long after
he had gone, her head resting in her hands. Before
her hidden eyes she saw the long road over the desert
that led to Health, the boundary station, beyond which
was the chance of escape to the Arabian coast. Along
this road she saw the dusty tracks of the motor car
carrying her husband to precarious safety on the mor-
row saw it quite distinctly as a stereoscopic view
before her hidden eyes. It would take him thirteen
hours to get to Health travelling all day. And he
would be off at sunrise. That would bring him to the
boundary station at eight o'clock, just as she was
dressing for dinner at Government House. But be-
yond that hour her thoughts would not go. When she
tried to push them a little further to see what lay be-
fore her at Government House, she turned very sick,
and a violent shivering took hold of all her limbs, even
in the hot air circulating round her with the electric
fans. She was surprised to find that her teeth chat-
tered a little, and the hands before her face shook.
For she was frightened horribly frightened even in
anticipation.
CHAPTER II
"We were young, we were merry, we were very, very wise?
And the door stood open at our feast,
When there pass'd us a woman with the West in her eyes,
And a man with his back to the East."
MARY E. COLERIDGE.
WHEN Lady Stroud and Barbara Play fair en-
tered the Club they walked straight on past
the big reading-room where the dances were held, and
out onto the verandah and the bridge tables. The group
of men whom Mrs. Everard had bowed to broke up
at the appearance of the Government House party,
and two of them, Rodney Haines and Dr. Bride, came
forward to greet Lady Stroud. The rest of the men
raised their hats and melted away, Bunney and Yar-
row to the bar for whisky and soda and Richmond
Hervey to the empty seat beside Mrs. Bride. Nobody
looked after him it is not etiquette to look after a
man who steals his neighbour's wife in Exile, though
every one present was acutely conscious of his action,
and that no other man would have done a thing so
blatant in the face of the Club. For the Club is pub-
lic opinion in Exile, and Richmond Hervey set it at
nought Other couples would have joined each other
outside in the dark of the road beyond the lamps, per-
haps to drive home together, but with a certain de-
cency of reserve. Those had never been Hervey's
methods.
29
30 EXILE
He dropped heavily into the basket-chair, which
creaked under his weight, and looked at his victim.
The twitching hands were still playing with the fringes
to the ostrich boa round her neck, and some mental
strain was drawing two unbecoming lines between
her straight dark brows. Hervey regarded her be-
neath his level eyelids as if she were the problem of
an old story that hardly interested him.
"Well, my dear?"
The woman broke out at once, speaking furiously
though under her breath, all her quivering nerves
driving her to reckless indiscretion.
"You've been here an hour, and never come to speak
to me until now! You've never been near me for a
week. You know I'm going home by the Mail to-
morrow. What do you mean by it? What do you
mean?" If her voice had not been under control
through the force of circumstances it would have been
a wail.
"You were gabbling to Mrs. Everard all the after-
noon. You didn't want me to make a third, did you?"
Hervey's voice was almost bored. In truth he was
bored at this point in the proceedings. He had been
through it so often before that he knew each stage
that was coming. There were several types of women
that he knew the adventurous, who called an in-
trigue "sport" ; the feeble-minded, who called it "sin"
(but sinned none the less) ; the hysterical, who turned
upon herself and him and rent both of them in her re-
morse; the sensualist, who gave too freely and grew
frightened too late. Mrs. Bride belonged to the hys-
terical type.
"Why should I want to talk to Mrs. Everard ?" she
EXILE 31
burst out stormily, still wrought up to the height of
her despair. "That stick! but she's respectable. It's
come to a pass when I have to choose my company to
outweigh the scandal of your attentions !"
He moved a little restlessly, almost uneasily, and
she thought that she had touched him. But it was
the name of the Chief Justice's wife which had given
him the momentary pin-prick. He thought sometimes
that he should end by hating Claudia Everard for the
sullen shame she roused in him, though he knew her
sublimely unconscious of it.
"She is certainly respectable!" he said with a slight
sneer. "You might have chosen some other woman
who was not quite such a stick."
"There is none, except Lady Stroud, with a repu-
tation like Mrs. Everard's!" said Mrs. Bride harshly.
"You know that, they have mostly been through
your hands "
"You do me too much honour!" he suggested ironi-
cally.
"Or somebody else's. I daresay there are plenty of
other poor devils, even in Exile, who wished they
had died sooner than have ever seen you. You've
behaved disgracefully to me, Richmond disgrace-
fully!"
She drew her throat back and her eyes blazed at
him. She was a little, thin woman with big eyes and
a restless mouth. It had interested him to see her face
alter beyond her control under his handling. It was
like playing on a finely strung instrument. The last
woman the one before her had been somewhat like
a doll, he remembered, and they had bored each other
very soon. He yawned. He was a little bored now.
32 EXILE
"Disgraceful," he repeated, as if taking up her last
word with a certain politeness. "Well, what comes
next?"
"Next?" she gave a short laugh. "I'm going home
to-morrow."
"Are you sorry?" he asked, almost curiously.
"No!" she hurled at him. "I'm glad I'm glad to
get away from it all. I wish I'd never looked at you
never had anything to do with you. Why haven't
you been to see me for a week ?" she harked back, her
voice trembling a little as if she would like to cry.
"Because I was out at Reserve, at the water-
works i "
"Because you were tired of the whole thing 1" she
interrupted ruthlessly. "You meant to bring it all
to an end like this and save a scene. You thought
I should make a scene 1 Well, I would if I thought
that you would hate that most."
"Did you want a scene?" he asked without even
glancing at her. "I am sorry I did not oblige you.
If you had told me, I really would have given you a
chance, though I was pressed for time," he added
thoughtfully.
She rose suddenly, pushing back her chair, her be-
traying hands hidden under the ostrich boa. "Ritchie,
you are a brute a brute beast and nothing more,"
she said with a sudden quiet. "It hasn't been your
fault it has been mine. I was idle and vicious, and
you were only the means to the end. Good-bye, and
when you think of me remember that there was one
woman who despised you as her own tool."
She left him standing by the two empty chairs and
hurried across to the verandah. He followed
EXILE 33
leisurely, and heard her saying good-bye to Lady
Stroud and speaking of her departure on the morrow.
It struck him as a situation at which he had assisted
many times before only the last woman had said
that she despised him as he deserved; it was rather
more original to call him a tool. It did not upset him
in the least, because he knew that the fault had been
equal on both sides. If he had tempted, Mrs. Bride
had stretched out empty hands for the temptation.
"Idle and vicious"; yes, they were mostly that in
Exile. That he was not so idle as most perhaps proved
him the more vicious.
He watched Mrs. Bride join her husband and leave
the Club with him to find their car. Tommy would be
alone to-morrow, and would no doubt console him-
self in his turn. . . . Then he found that Lady Stroud
was speaking to him.
"I'm so disappointed you can't dine with us to-
morrow, Mr. Hervey. Are you sure you cannot get
away?"
"I am afraid I shall be out at Reserve until too late,
Lady Stroud. I don't get back as a rule until eight
o'clock or half-past, and I'm hardly in a fit state to
appear as I am I"
"Those darling waterworks of yours I I believe you
are the only man in Exile who really likes his work.
Well, come on after dinner and have a chat with my
husband. He says he has not seen you to speak to
since we have been back."
"Thanksif I may."
"Hervey," said Captain Bunney, returning 1 from
his whisky and soda, "will you cut in with me? Yar-
row has to leave, and Haines has failed us."
34 EXILE
Hervey nodded, looking as he passed to see why
Haines preferred to sit out, and found him still talk-
ing to Miss Playfair. Her open enjoyment of the
novel scene round her (it must be reiterated that she
had only just arrived from England) seemed to amuse
or interest the Colonial Secretary, for his nervous, sen-
sitive face was turned towards her with a certain
kindliness that made him rather winning. Hervey
had sometimes had a dim idea that if Claudia Everard
felt any interest in a man other than her husband Rod-
ney Haines would be the man, and he wondered
whether this new arrival would really attract Haines,
and whether Mrs. Everard would feel any pain in
consequence. He would never know with a woman
of that type one never could know but the thought
gave him a certain streak of satisfaction. He could
not forgive Mrs. Everard her superiority to human
weakness, and it made him almost petty in his resent-
ment.
Barbara Playfair's candid eyes had rested on him
also as he passed to the bridge table, with the same
questioning look she had given to the ships and the
outline of Banishment islet and the little club-house.
"Who is that big man who has just passed us?" she
asked Haines, her voice a little lowered so that it
sounded almost confidential. "He looks so dreadfully
strong he must be somebody."
"Quite right, Miss Playfair; he is very much some-
body in Exile. He is the man who brought water
from the solid rock, in Biblical phrase, and made it
possible for us all to be here. Before Richmond Her-
vey there was only an E. T. Station and a gunboat
in the bay."
EXILE 35
"I felt sure he was somebody," the girl insisted, de-
lighted with her own acuteness. "Can't you always
tell? I can. I somehow sense strong people."
"You must go out to Reserve and see Hervey's
waterworks. He's just endowed us with the electric
light, and wants half the town for a power station."
"I should love to see them!"
Haines laughed half tenderly, as at a child. "You
shall see everything!" he promised. "There are won-
derful silks to buy in Reserve at the shop of one Has-
san, who is an Arab trader."
"I think the Arabs are so interesting !"
"He makes a very good picture. Do you take pho-
tographs?"
"Oh, yes I got some snap-shots at Port Said, and
as we passed Suez and Perim, but it was too dark at
Aden, we got in so late."
"What a shame! Did you enjoy the voyage?"
"Every moment of it. We had such nice people on
board!"
"That you were quite sorry to tranship at Aden?"
He spoke teasingly, but there was the faint resent-
ment of the male in his tone who suspects the pres-
ence of other males.
"I liked the Connection boat, too. And then it was
only for two or three days, and then this !" She drew
a long breath of pure pleasure, and turned her glad
young eyes on the scene before her the bored men
playing bridge, the women looking at out-of-date il-
lustrated papers, the dying sky behind Banishment
islet, the little, strange, un-English club-house.
Perhaps it struck Haines as a little pathetic, this
idealising of Exile Club by an untried nature. He
36 EXILE
looked round him with his understanding eyes and
wondered whether it seemed otherwise than a poor
alternative for better distractions to any one else
present? They all liked the Club because it was the
only decent place to go to; they all hated it because
it was Exile. To this girl, fresh out from England,
it was new, and startling, and ravishing with possibili-
ties.
"You think you shall like Exile?" he said, and
again there was that lingering tenderness in his voice
that he used for children.
*'I shall love itl" said the girl frankly. And she
looked at Rodney Haines for a moment as if she loved
him too the love of a child for some one who is tak-
ing it to a pantomime. But he would have been in-
teresting, even without Exile. What sad blue eyes he
had! merry and sad at once; and what a curious,
changeable face. She thought him rather old he
was thirty-eight and wondered if he were married
and what his wife was like. And Rodney Haines,
looking at her, thought that she put him in mind of
Mendelssohn's Spring Song. There was always some-
thing a little pathetic in the Spring Song to him, de-
spite its gaiety. Or was it a Chanson of Chaminade's ?
Lady Stroud had played out two rubbers before the
Admiral appeared to take them home, and then they
had to linger while he had a whisky and soda, and
talked to one and another. Richmond Hervey was
going out of the Club as he was coming in, and said,
"Good-night, sir; I am coming up to Government
House to-morrow night. Lady Stroud says I may
turn up after dinner."
"Can't you dine?" said the Admiral with regret.
EXILE 37
"Too busy? Well, come as soon as you can 'for the
Lord's sake, my dear man, let me have somebody to
talk to who is not on the Staff 1" They laughed and
parted. It was curious how other men liked Hervey,
despite his follies with women.
His car was waiting for him outside the Club, and
he got into the front seat and drove himself home,
though almost any other man would have left it to
his Arab chauffeur. Hervey's bungalow lay out in
the sandy stretch of desert beyond the Fort, a little
off the road to Health. It was an equal distance from
the Fort and from Reserve, and he was in telephonic
communication with both places. The singing lines
of the telegraph accompanied him all the way, and the
desert winds played on the wires and drew strange
notes from them that sounded like semitones and now
and then a chord. The road did not ascend at all, but
ran at the foot of the Rocks, and Hervey gradually in-
creased the pace as he got beyond the Fort until the
"Luna" hummed along at fifty miles an hour. Away
on his right lay the turning that led up into the Rocks
and the lights of the Chief Justice's bungalow. He
looked up as he passed below it, and that ugly smile
was again on his lips.
The wind across the desert was as cold as ice with
the speed of the car, and when they left the telegraph
poles and swung off to their left the Arab chauffeur
uttered a prayer of gratitude to Allah, though he had
sat beside his master without a shiver. There was an
Arab village here called Golgotha, and the flare of
its lamps made a lurid glow in the distance. Nearer
at hand were the outlines of several two-storied bun-
galows and the tossing plumes of date palms, for the
38 EXILE
brackish wells of the desert made cultivation of some
sort more possible than on the rock foundation of
Fort. The largest house in the district was Hervey's,
and its garden stretched out around it in unequalled
luxuriance; but directly across the road was another
bungalow, not much smaller, though less well built.
This place was empty of permanent owners, but was
often taken by people who wanted a change from the
Fort, and it was here that the Admiral and Lady
Stroud put up when they broke the journey to Health.
It belonged to Hassan, the silk merchant, who kept it
half-furnished for chance visitors. It was known as
"Half-way House."
Hervey swung the car through the gates and up the
sandy drive to the front of his own bungalow, where
his white-liveried servants received him and bowed
him in. It was a large house, with high rooms that
looked almost vast from the fashion in Exile of one
apartment leading out of another until they were noth-
ing but a dim vista of pillars and space. He went
through the dining-room and into his own library and
study, and sat down at his writing-desk. There were
several letters and a telephone message that had ar-
rived during the afternoon. He took up the receiver
of his own telephone and rang up at once, leaning his
elbows on the great rolled-top desk.
"Put me on to the waterworks at Reserve," he said
quietly. And a minute later he was talking as com-
posedly as if face to face with the clerk in charge.
"Oh, is that you, Myers? . . . Yes, I've had your
message . . . sorry to keep you waiting at the works.
. . . You have seen Hassan personally? . . . That is
his final answer ? . . Let me understand he refuses
EXILE 39
to sell any property at all in Reserve ? . . . I had bet-
ter have that in writing. Post it to-night . . . No,
don't see him again even if he asks. . . . We take
that as his final answer. . . . Yes, quite right. You
can go as soon as you have written that letter. . . .
Good night !"
He rang off and put the receiver back on the rest.
Then he sat still for a moment looking straight before
him, and then he laughed the same laugh that had
startled Rodney Haines at the Club.
Hassan had not seen the Chief Justice yet, that was
obvious, or they had not elaborated a new plan of
campaign. The site for the power station was being
held back as an additional bait or else as a desperate
bribe for his silence? Fools! He laughed again as
he thought of the contents of Everard's letter that
priceless letter that lay in the safe upstairs in his
bedroom. That any man could run his head into a
noose as Everard had done seemed to Hervey the last
rash act of a brainsick fool. He had almost admired
Everard's ruthless mishandling of justice it seemed
so fearless in its wickedness ; but the man must be but
a blundering villain after all to so miscalculate. He
knew as well as Everard where the danger to him lay,
and that there was one dread before which he cringed
as a coward the fear of bodily harm and death. He
who had mishandled the law for his own purpose was
terrified of the rough justice that stood without the
law. He was frightened of the Arab population. The
Chief Justice had always sheltered himself behind his
official authority; once let it be known in the bazaars
that he had abused it, that by his own showing he had
falsely sentenced the small traders, and popular feel-
4O EXILE
ing might take the law into its own hands. He was
bound to the Jews, too, against whom there was smoul-
dering feeling amongst the Arabs, and had sacrificed
certain Arab traders to Jacobs & Co.* it was all set
forth with shameless clearness in that damning letter.
The man was certainly a fool! Hervey had no use
for failure or weakness, and the Chief Justice had
first failed and then run away. He knew that Everard
was not coming back to Fort on the expected date, and
he guessed that he would take flight for Health the
minute he found that he had implicated himself.
Suddenly he remembered Mrs. Everard, and a little
cold curiosity crept into his eyes. In hitting the hus-
band he could perhaps get a double blow at the wife.
He was shrewd enough to guess what others would
not have credited that she was, or had been, abso-
lutely in the dark with regard to her husband's fraud-
ulent convictions, and that it would be a blow dealt
straight at her pride and her confidence. It would go
hard with such a woman, and he was not sorry, though
he told himself that he pitied her. This was the con-
ventional phrase, beneath which lay the sting of his
scorn of himself under her passing glance. It would
be a better revenge on Mrs. Everard than any he could
have planned in petty malice, and he hugged it in se-
cret, telling himself that he had not planned it, that
he could not avoid it, and that things must simply take
their course. He had all the cards in his hands, and
he was simply playing a waiting game. One after the
other Everard and his wife would feel the whip lash
of his unbending determination.
He thought of Mrs. Everard, curiously enough, far
more often than of Mrs. Bride, despite the intimate
EXILE 41
relations that had been only lately broken between him
and the latter. That scene to-night at the Club had
ended it in his mind these things always ended so,
more or less and he drew down the curtain with a
cynical shrug, conscious that she was in reality as
relieved as he, though her passionate protest might
salve her own conscience. She had had no least spark
of love for him; no woman ever had loved him that
he could remember, though too many had made it a
plea to outrage love's most sacred rights. He looked
at his face in the glass that night as he went to bed,
and he did not wonder. But the fascination of his
strength and his brutality and his position in Exile
had answered as well as the attractions of gentler men.
He thought that he had had all he wanted. It was
noticeable that even Mrs. Bride herself had not sug-
gested his coming on board the Connection steamer to
see her off, though half Exile would be- there. She
realised as well as he that the incident was over. Her-
vey's mind harked back to Mrs. Everard rather than
Mrs. Bride; he was wondering how soon she would
raise her eyes and see the sword hanging over her
husband's head.
"She's a good woman," said Hervey with a sneer.
"I suppose she'll pray or cry !"
* * ' * * *
The Admiral and Lady Stroud got small chance for
comparing notes or for confidence in the busy round
of their duties; but as they dressed for dinner they
were apt to pass comments to each other on the events
of the day in English, Lady Stroud's maid having
been carefully imported from India before she had
learned any language but her own. As for the Ad-
42 EXILE
miral, he had his servant, of course, but took care to
leave him outside the dressing-room until called for.
The man stood on the mat to be sworn at, he said.
Lady Stroud had been full of Barbara, her frank
ignorance and her possibilities of charm. A girl was
rather a breathless charge in Exile, where the species
was practically unknown.
"When you come to think of it, every other woman
is married," she said. "Except the Brides' French
governess, and she's gone to Health with the children
while Mrs. Bride is away."
The Admiral was quarrelling with his collar-stud,
and said "Harump-hough !" just like an angry ele-
phant. It did not refer to the governess, for he had
never seen her, but to his tingling fingers. He had
come into Lady Stroud's room, where the light was
better, and had taken possession of the glass; but
having banished his servant to the mat outside his
dressing-room door he had no outlet for his feelings.
"By the way, Jonathan," went on her Excellency,
trying to look round his raised elbow to see that her
hair was all right (the Admiral was really selfish over
the looking-glass), "I did not know where to look this
evening at the Club I'm thankful she's going home!
Mr. Hervey is too atrocious one tries not to see, but
he thrusts it on one !"
"What's the matter with Hervey?" said the Ad-
miral, dropping his arm. The collar-stud had yielded
to superior force, but had given as good as it got.
He rubbed his fingers.
"Why, Mr. Hervey's affair with Mrs. Bride! It
has been too outspoken. I felt as if I were counte-
EXILE 43
nancing it. He went straight to her side and sat and
talked to her alone at the Club!"
"Seems to me it's a good deal more decent to be
above board, if he wants to talk to her, than to wait till
all your backs are turned! Why shouldn't a man go
and sit by a woman at the Club?"
"Oh, if it's all right between them! but it isn't."
"It's never been proved that it isn't. Even Bride
has never objected."
"He's been with her everywhere he was always at
their house "
"That's no proof," said the Admiral obstinately.
"Oh, my dear, who wants proof when we all
know?" said Lady Stroud in despair.
The Admiral exploded in muffled mirth. "Truly
feminine reasoning!" he said. "You can't prove it,
but you know it all the same! Let Hervey alone,
Fanny 'he's a good man for the Government."
"He's a very bad one for the private citizen!" re-
torted her ladyship, wrinkling her brows with annoy-
ance, for she was a kindly woman and hated to think
ill of any one. But Hervey had put himself beyond
the pale of charity. "There was Colonel Deane's
wife, the one that went to India, and Mrs. Peters, and
that Smyth woman. It's been a succession of scandals
ever since we came, and I have no doubt there were
heaps before!"
The Admiral had taken up his wife's brushes, and
was absent-mindedly patting his hair flat, for it had
a tendency to curl, which was unbecoming to a Gov-
ernor. He was a handsome man and he knew it, and
Lady Stroud knew it too and rejoiced in it.
"Mrs. Deane had a past before ever she came to
44 EXILE
Exile, and so -had the other women by all accounts,"
he said shrewdly.
"Yes, but the worst of Mr. Hervey is that when
he meets a woman with a past he always tries to make
it a present!"
The Admiral roared. "Well, it's no use blaming
him so long as the women themselves don't do so!"
he said shrewdly. "And apparently they like it. I
deprecate scandal as much as you do, but this place is
full of it. Look at my Acting Chief Justice and his
house at Banishment about which, of course, I know
nothing! I'm glad Hervey's coming in to-morrow
night anyway," he added in a brisker tone. "And so
are you too, whatever you think of him."
"I think he's a horrid man!" said Lady Stroud in-
dignantly. "And I like him so much too!"
The Admiral kissed her. "Am I all right ?" he said.
"Where's that scoundrel of mine? I've no tie!"
"You look beautiful!" said Lady Stroud with con-
viction. "Don't say anything to him very loud, Jona-
than. I am afraid Barbara might hear all the rooms
are so open!"
CHAPTER III
"Sweet is the music of Arabia
In my heart, when out of dreams
I still in the thin clear mists of dawn
Descry her gliding streams.
"Still eyes look coldly upon me,
Cold voices whisper and say,
'He is crazed with the spell of far Arabia,
They have stolen his wits away.' "
WALTER DE LA MARE.
WHEN the sun rose it found the Rocks standing
stark and colourless against the grey sky. The
early morning is frequently cloudy in Exile, and the
full glare of day does not come until ten or eleven
o'clock. Sometimes a few drops of rain will fall
from the clouds, and a very cold wind blows off the
desert. But it only rains in reality once or twice in
the year, and then the baked roofs of the houses crack
and strain and let in torrents of water, being shrunken
with long drought. At Government House a real rain
meant rushing into the drawing-room and dining-
room with baths and cloths and receptacles of all
kinds, and then there was considerable damage done to
the carpets and furniture before it was over.
Mrs. Everard got up as soon as it was light and
went out into the verandah beyond her bedroom. She
had not slept much, and the chill of the dawn was wel-
45
46 EXILE
come to her. All night she had been measuring the
miles that lay between her and her husband the phys-
ical miles that seemed so trivial and the mental miles
that had grown so vast. He was only a short distance
away, in Reserve, lying at Hassan's house, but since
yesterday he seemed to her to have withdrawn to the
uttermost limits of the desert. As soon as dawn came
he would start on his journey to Health, and from
there to the port that lay beyond the station; but he
was already leagues beyond that in her conception of
him put away from her on the other side of a yawn-
ing gulf of knowledge.
They had lived together for eight years, and after
the first six months he had tired of her physically. She
had accepted the humiliation with the terrified shyness
of girlhood, and had lived in his house half-ashamed
and half-relieved. As the years went on the relief
had outweighed the shame, and she had settled into
the position of figurehead to his household, manager
of the routine of their mutual life. She never asked
herself whether she had rivals, or who they were.
It had seemed to her immaterial so long as he was sat-
isfied with her titular position as his wife, and a gross
thing to bear in mind. She had never loved him as the
revelation of her later passion showed her love, but
she had admired him profoundly, both mentally and
physically. He possessed an extraordinary power of
representing things to his own purposes, so that he
almost persuaded the words themselves to become
his pleaders and white to declare itself black. Under
normal conditions there was nothing that he could not
explain advantageously to himself, and he had so an-
nounced his actions and intentions to her that she was
EXILE 47
perfectly satisfied with them. When, therefore, he
had lost this facility under abnormal conditions the
preceding night, when he was hard-pressed by circum-
stances into statements of bald truth, the shock to her
had been one from which she could never recover.
She had always thought him extraordinarily clever in
his profession and of the intellectual rather than the
material type, because he had represented himself so
with his plausible gift. In twenty minutes he had
stripped the veil from his own purposes and disclosed
himself as an exceptionally clever cheat, a gambler,
and a sensualist. His aims were simply money to
spend on the coarsest pleasures some inversion of
his gift had made him show her this as rapidly as he
had formerly shown her false ideals. With his moral
virtues the physical beauty seemed to shrink away
also, so that she saw his narrow face as no longer
good-looking, but mean and loose-lipped.
At first she could not believe it ; she tried to find the
faltering excuses for him that he had so fluently found
for himself aforetime. That conviction of Lestoc now
that must have been right ; he had so presented it to
her that she saw him as the minister of plain justice
in the face of public prejudice. She had felt a secret
pride in being unpopular when his convictions swept
one man after another into prison. Through it all she
had believed in him, she had upheld his judgments.
And he had crumbled this belief away with one brief
confession "I stated everything openly in that letter
I told him how I had cleared the way. . . . We
stood to gain wealth that one hardly estimates. Think
of it! The whole of the silk trade in our hands." She
remembered the cases Lestoc, Arabi & Co., Raschid
48 EXILE
Taima, they came tumbling bade into her mind one
after another, the most unpopular of his sentences,
and all within the last six months that Chief Justice
Yale had been home on leave. He must have been
trading illicitly too he, Edgar Everard, when he was
only Crown prosecutor and police magistrate since
he had been waiting for temporary promotion to do
his "clearing of the way." The whole fabric of Mrs.
Everard's domestic and social life was in a moment
torn up as if by an earthquake during that breathless
half-hour the evening before. She wanted to readjust
her perspective, to focus the lens of her mental sight
both on her husband and herself.
The growing light striking on the Rocks brought
them into their resistless prominence. Claudia Ever-
ard looked at them with a kind of relief, as at some-
thing at least that had not altered since last night.
They were flat coloured, toneless, grey and brown in
the morning, with no depth of shadow, and yet as
sharply denned as a stereoscopic view. The little
bungalows perched upon their lower slopes, the low
roofs of the Marines' quarters, were exactly like the
cardboard buildings in a child's toy landscape which
are cut out and pasted on to the ground plan. There
was neither tree nor shrub in the whole of Mrs. Ever-
ard's extended view nothing but the hard Rocks, the
little hard buildings, the hard line of sea on the
horizon.
After a while she went into her bedroom, had her
bath, and dressed. Then the gong went, and she fol-
lowed it into the dining-room, through the pillars, and
sat down to breakfast. Everything was covered with
fine wire or gauze on account of the flies even the
EXILE 49
bread had a weighted piece of net thrown over It and
Abdul stood behind her chair with a fan to wave them
off her plate. They were not so bad up here in the
Rocks as down on the shore, but they were bad
enough. The day deepened, the dust and glare began
to assert themselves over the whole of Fort Exile;
some of the Arab servants drew the jalousies closer,
and the bare clean rooms took on a kind of twilight of
their own.
Mrs. Everard ate her fish-cakes mechanically (the
cook was a good one, trained by herself with unweary-
ing patience in her husband's service; it was part of
her married duty, as she conceived it), and pushed
back her chair with relief when they were finished.
One function of the ghastly day at least was ended.
She wondered how she would fill in the hours that lay
between her and the dinner at Government House, for
it was this that she really dreaded to an extent that
hardly allowed her to think of it. She was rather
methodical in her mental processes, and ready to face
a situation beforehand; but she could not face the
meeting with Hervey or arrange her speech with him.
Her mind kept on edging away every time that she
brought it to the verge of thinking out what she must
say and do. It was a horror of catastrophe.
She had hardly left the breakfast table and walked
from dining-room to drawing-room before the name
of a visitor was brought to her. This was not unpre-
cedented in the Fort, where society was so small that
men and women seemed to have their lives in common,
and privacy was limited to midday rest; but Mrs.
Everard would have refused to receive had it been
any one but the Crown prosecutor. Stanley Mur-
50 EXILE
gatroyd had taken her husband's place on his promo-
tion, was his most intimate friend, and assuredly in
his confidence. He must have been so, indeed, to fur-
ther Everard's misuse of judicial power. She said,
"Yes, of course," to the butler, and turned to meet
Murgatroyd almost before he was in the room with a
leap of the heart for some new crisis, some piece of
bad news.
He was a very tall man and extraordinarily ema-
ciated, the climate of Exile having given him perma-
nent dyspepsia. She thought involuntarily how
parchment-coloured his face was as he entered, and
that his ailment must be worse, and then it crossed
her mind that he was suffering a mental anxiety only
second to her own. He had very deeply-set eyes that
never seemed to be looking at her, and yet she felt
that they were seldom off her face, and she had always
pitied him for an unprepossessing personality. Few
people liked Murgatroyd, and he was spoken of as
Everard's satellite. Claudia Everard knew that he
possessed a boundless admiration for her husband,
and a devotion to him that was almost servile. He
was almost sure to be involved in Everard's ruin if
it came to that.
"Sit down, Stanley," she said kindly. "Have you
had breakfast?"
"I breakfasted at eight, thanks," said the magis-
trate in his usual brief fashion.
Mrs. Everard nodded to the butler, who was still
waiting for orders. "It is not necessary to wait, Ab-
dul, Mr. Murgatroyd has breakfasted." Then as
the man vanished to the far recesses of the long rooms
EXILE 51
'"Well?" she said, dropping her voice. "What
is it?"
He raised his cavernous eyes, and she was startled
by the excitement in them. It struck her for the first
time that he had a look of the fanatic she had always
thought of him as a dull, conscientious drudge, and
had accentuated her kindness towards him by the use
of his Christian name as her husband did.
"Have you seen him ?" he asked breathlessly.
"Yes last night."
"He told you ?"
"As much as he had time to tell. He was only here
half an hour."
"Do you know where he slept?"
"At Hassan's."
He half started up. "Is he there now?"
"I think not 1 don't know. He was to start at
daybreak for Health." Some reflection of his un-
easiness communicated itself to her tingling nerves,
so that she spoke in sharp, rapid whispers.
He dropped back in his chair. "I might have caught
him if I'd known," he said. "There's something he
ought to hear. Could Hassan get in touch with him
at once at Health ?"
"He might he has agents there."
"I don't want it to go through me. Hervey's on
the lookout already he could stir up Health as well
as Reserve. I believe I am being watched."
"Yes," she said simply. It would have seemed in-
congruous yesterday to think of the Chief Justice or
the magistrate being watched that they should not
go and come unquestioned; now the undreamed-of
seemed the inevitable thing.
52 EXILE
"How long does he stay at Health?" he demanded.
"He does not stay goes straight on to the Port."
Then he started to his feet again, trembling. "He
must not go he must be stopped at Health," he said
rapidly. "Did any one see him last night?"
"I think not I believe not."
"Then they do not know that he returned from
Bani from Health?"
"No. r
"They must think he stayed there and has never
gone away." A sullen shame seemed to cross his
face, and she divined that many people had known
that Everard was not at Health at all, but at Banish-
ment. It was only she who had been duped ; but then
she was his wife. Nevertheless, he had been reported
at Health and must still be reported there. "They
must not think, Hervey must not dream, that he
thinks of going on to the Port yet," said Mur-
gatroyd.
She looked up with a troubled face. "He is so
panic-stricken!" she breathed. "I am afraid nothing
will keep him there ' "
"He must stay I tell you he must as long 1 as Her-
vey holds that letter."
They stared at each other blankly, and she saw to
her bewilderment that his eyes seemed to be moist.
Did he care for Edgar so much as that? It struck
her as a revelation, something she had not fathomed.
"You too !" he said brokenly. "You are suffering
we have all made you suffer." Then she realised that
she was trembling, and that it was his reference to the
letter and Hervey that had made her do so; but he
had not linked cause with effect.
EXILE 53
"It is nothing," she said hastily. "What are we
to do?"
"Could you get a message to Hassan? So that no
one should guess? Do not use the post if you can
help it do not even write!"
She thought a moment. "I think so. I am allowed
to visit there, and to meet his wife. I have been to
several of the houses of the richer Arabs 'Lady
Stroud goes too, you know."
He drew a breath of relief. "You can go to his
house then and see him ?"
"If he is there. The ladies of his household gen-
erally receive me alone, but he has come in once or
twice."
"Wait till he comes see him somehow," he said
eagerly. "And tell him that Edgar must stay at
Health as if nothing had happened as if he had no
idea of going further. Hassan can telegraph in cypher
to his agents they use a business cypher."
"I will tell him." Her nerves seemed braced up
to the pitch of his. "I had better not leave a note
if he doesn't come in?"
"No no! For God's sake nothing more in writ-
ing!" he said with a shudder, and again that strange
trembling seized her. "Stay on till he does come
Arab ladies think nothing of long visits, they like you
to stay for some hours."
She did not tell him of her engagement to dine at
Government House or what it involved. She felt she
could not speak of it, though she supposed that he
knew that Everard had apportioned her her share in
the desperate fight for safety. She felt sure that he-
54 EXILE
knew a minute later when he was turning" to go, and
came back to her and held out his hand half timidly.
"You must not be frightened Edgar is so wonder-
ful, he knows they cannot touch him, legally. It was
only that one fatal mistake of trying to bind Hervey
to us. Hervey could set all Exile in a flame. ... I
wish we could have kept you out of it!"
"You ask impossibilities, Stanley!"
"Yes, yes, of course. Edgar forgot that it involved
you as well as the rest of us. You were bound to
know, and to help him. Do not worry we will see
that he is safe, whoever else is sacrificed!"
She was confused into silence, and he took his de-
parture. His simplicity seemed suddenly incredible
his devotion to both Edgar and herself almost a touch-
ing thing. It had not once been possible to fling 1 the
revolution of her mind in the face of his attachment
to her husband, or to raise one cry of the horror that
consumed her. He seemed to have no moral sense be-
yond fidelity to Everard ; he had felt neither fear for
himself, nor shame, nor humiliation she was sure of
it. And yet he was involved in these judicial crimes,
this flinging of innocent men into Arab prisons to get
them out of the way, this cheating and trickery, and
selling of a high office. If the populace threatened
the Chief Justice's bodily safety they would not spare
the Crown prosecutor, but the fear of such reprisals
had been all Everard's, or for Everard, until Mur-
gatroyd loomed almost heroic by contrast. She put
her hands up to her temples as if she could not reason.
Her mind seemed stunned with it all. And through
it and underlying it she was conscious of the cold fear
lest she should have to sit side by side with Hervey
EXILE 55
to-night. Lady Stroud sometimes placed her there,
as a kind of moral reaction from the society of other
women, she thought. She had smiled over it a little
scornfully at times. But would she have to sit and
talk to him to-night?
She thrust the fear away from her with both hands,
throwing them out in actual physical revolt. Thank
God, Murgatroyd had given her something to do
some action that should prevent her thinking. She
rang the bell, and ordered the carriage for four o'clock
this afternoon, to drive into Reserve, and then fell
to her Arab books, studying the language feverishly
until lunch-time. There was no sleep for her after
lunch, but she lay on her bed under the mosquito net
(for flies were worst in the heat of the day, though
there were no mosquitoes), and read a heap of books
which she had snatched off her shelves without looking
at them :
"Que sont-ils devenus, les chagrins de ma vie?
Tout ce qui m'a fait vieux est bien loin maintenant "
Would it indeed be like that some day? Would they
all seem far off, these "chagrins" of her life? She
turned the page idly :
"Un souvenir heureux est peut-etre sur terre
Plus vrai que la bonheur."
She read without knowing that it had entered her
brain at all, for her thoughts were wandering. She
was taking her seat at the dinner-table this evening,
next to Hervey, and waiting an opportunity . . . She
flung the French poems aside, and took up an English
books of essays:
56 EXILE
"To marry is to domesticate the recording angel . . ."
Oh, heavens! was there no escape for her tired
mind, even in books ? They began to make a jumble in
her head, so fast she turned them over.
"He knew that he had done a villainy; knew it and did
not repent. ... To create a solitude where he alone might
reach one woman's figure, he would have set a world afire."
rt 'Is there anybody there?' said the Traveller,
Knocking at the moonlit door."
"No man can make haste to be rich without going against
the Will of God, in which case it is the one frightful thing
to be successful . . ."
Her ayah brought her a cup of tea at half-past
three, as she had ordered, and she drank it thirstily,
before she rose and dressed. Then the carriage was
at the door, and then she was rolling smartly down the
hill and into the smooth road at the foot that would
take her to Reserve. One or two cars passed her on
the way, flying past the slower horse-drawn vehicle,
and she bowed in answer to lifted hats, wondering in
the new sting of her humiliation that they should con-
descend to salute the wife of a moral criminal. She
wondered how much was suspicioned by other men
than Hervey, who did not hold damning proof, but
must have recognised the outrage of justice all the
same. It seemed a little pitiful to her that she should
have been kept so in the dark a little unfair, even of
Providence, to have made her prone to trust widely,
and to have given her husband that specious gift of
self-justification.
EXILE 57
The road ran all along the foot of the Rocks, and
now, at this hour, she thought them most beautiful,
for they were full of warm brown shadows and
drenched with the golden light of afternoon. Against
the smooth blue of the sky the bronze icebergs stood
up relentless and unsoftened even by the tender light.
Mrs. Everard was conscious that she had grown to
love them as something almost animate, something
compelling her to look at them.
The road forked after a while, one side of it turn-
ing off into the desert the same road along which
Hervey had driven out the night before, and Everard
this morning, since it was the only route to Health.
The other division turned short to the right and bur-
rowed into the rocks through what was called the
Cutting. It led directly into the great extinct crater
where the old buried city had lain, and presumably
been engulfed by the volcanic convulsion which had
also diverted the river that used to flow over a more
fertile land. So much in the dawn of humanity had
it been that nothing was left to record a name to that
city, or what manner of men had lived there. Only
antiquarians grovelling in lava had declared that an
unmistakable ground plan was there, and that a great
civilisation might once have flourished on a smooth,
watered plain. There was, at least, no doubt about
the dried river bed, though to the uneducated eye it
looked a mere chasm in the volcanic Rocks. Fable
always called the city "Phoenician," but there was no
remote proof of this.
Mrs. Everard's carriage disappeared into the echo-
ing darkness, and fled by way of electric lamps through
the subterranean passage and out into the road again,
58 EXILE
leading down into Reserve. The Arab town lay below
her, flat-roofed, white-walled, with narrow undrained
streets, and a busy life as multitudinous as the flies.
Reserve belonged exclusively to merchants, Arab and
European, save for the solid authority of the police
courts and the great waterworks. Mrs. Everard was
driven down the gentle slope of the good new road,
past the grim walls of the prison, at which she dared
not look, and the native sentry. Her heart beat to
think who lay behind those barred windows, victims of
her husband's rapacity, and she remembered vividly,
with a shudder, a tale that had reached even her of Mr.
Lestoc serving three months in that unwholesome con-
finement, and being perforce removed to hospital until
he should recover, to endure the remainder of his sen-
tence. Her husband had given a severe sentence
eighteen months, the maximum that he could have
given being two years. And Lestoc was a delicate
man, with a disease which had developed in prison.
. . . She gave a little sob of foolish relief that Ever-
ard had not awarded the maximum sentence. It
seemed a redeeming gleam of mercy. She did not
know that had he given the two years there could have
been an appeal to a higher court in Bombay, and the
conviction must have been quashed. Instead she re-
membered his telling her how the sentence had gone
against public opinion "They would have liked a
practical acquittal. They forget that I could have
given the cheat two years ! I shall be credited for my
sternness, Claudia, but never for my leniency. That
is the fate of all strong men !"
She sat up a little in the sunshine and gasped. Even
now the phrases came back to her with conviction,
EXILE 59
remembering how he had said them. No one but
Everard could have destroyed her belief in Everard,
and it had been his relentless purpose to do so when the
moment came that she must understand him as he was,
not as he had posed to her.
The streets narrowed round the carriage as they
turned from the high road. The horses fretted on
the curb, and the musical bells under the driver's foot
rang out at every corner to warn the pedestrians out
of the way. Claudia had always loved the parti-
coloured scene, the gay flutter of Eastern rags, and
the harmonious bazaars. Every one walked softly
through the dust on bare feet, even the camels and the
little donkeys raising no sound, though they were so
full of business. It was only her own carriage that
was noisy, ringing in and out. She saw the dark
faces drift by her with a certain loftiness and beauty
even in the lowest class, for the Arab is free-born and
carries the stamp on him of being without the law.
Only once did she pass a white woman a nurse of
the Danish Mission, with her long veil hanging behind
her and two Arab children trotting at her side. She
had the golden hair of her race, and the lengthening
light caught it and made it glitter in the dark street
a strange, white figure passing through the coloured
crowd, the Arab children clinging to her hands !
Hassan's house was in a noted thoroughfare, and
was one of the better class. He was rich for a mer-
chant even now ; he had hoped to be richer in partner-
ship with an unscrupulous judge who had the power
to sweep rivals from his path. Mrs. Everard left her
carriage at the door, and, passing into a dark entry,
inquired of a porter who sat there if she could see the
60 EXILE
ladies of the house. The man knew her by sight, and
did not trouble to inquire. Yes, she could go up, he
said, and left her to find her way up a steep flight of
stairs in the dark. They were uncarpeted and not
very clean, a mere adjunct of the street, and Mrs.
Everard stumbled several times before she emerged
on to a kind of platform before a closed door and
knocked.
It was opened by a small figure in dull crimson with
the face of an old woman and the form of a child.
She held the loose drapery of her dress up to her face
until she should see whether her visitor were man or
woman, with the instinct of the Mahomedan; but at
sight of Mrs. Everard she uttered a little soft sound
of pleasure and scuttled away to make her presence
known indoors, for this was the real entrance to the
house. Downstairs was only the outer fortifications.
"May I come in ?" said Claudia in Arabic, hesitating
to enter the hall, though she knew her way from for-
mer visits.
There was a little patter of feet, a gurgle of words,
a soft laugh, and then two younger women appeared
with unveiled faces to draw her forward with expres-
sions of the liveliest interest and hospitality. The few
English women who had been admitted into the inner
precincts of the better-class Arab houses were very
welcome, for they made an interesting break in the
lives of the Mahomedan ladies, none of whom went
out into the streets until dusk, while those of the high-
est rank never went out at all after marriage, but took
their airing on the roofs.
Claudia Everard followed her guides through a pas-
sage room on her left, where the old woman who had
EXILE 61
answered the door sat on the ground manicuring the
hands of a child of some ten years and darkening the
nails with henna. There was no furniture in this
room, but some beautiful brass lamps stood in a row
by one wall ready for lighting, and by another some
coffee-pots that would have broken the heart of a col-
lector. They were beyond price, and unobtainable in
the bazaars of Reserve, these household belongings of
the richer Arabs. Beyond the passage room was an-
other platform open to the sky, and beyond this again
the living and reception room of the womenkind. The
house appeared to be built in sections at all sorts of
angles, for this last room overlooked the street from
a great height, but it was probably situated over some
one else's entrance and staircase, the one by which
Claudia had entered being far behind her.
The two women who had conducted her in were no
more than nineteen or twenty, though the elder of the
two looked far older than her English guest. She
had a buxom prettiness that made her matronly, and
was dressed handsomely in silk and gold tissue with
many gold and glass bangles on her bare brown arms
such arms! beautiful enough to serve as models for
the completion of the Venus of Milo. She waved
Claudia to a seat, talking with voluble pleasure and
smiling with friendly eyes upon her guest.
"We bid you welcome, madam ! It is long since you
have been to see us! Lady Stroud was here a few
days ago. We are delighted to see the English ladies !"
The younger woman had in the meantime appar-
ently informed the whole household that they had a
guest, for in a few seconds the room seemed to be full
of women, ranging in age from an old grey-haired
62 EXILE
lady in the dress of a widow to a young girl who
could not be more than thirteen. These were all Has-
san's female relatives, whose circumstances made it
incumbent on him to support them, or who helped to
do the work of his house. The old widow lady was
indeed his mother, and there was a sister-in-law with
a baby in her arms, besides two or three other children
of very few years. One small dark-eyed boy of four
was the only male creature in the room besides the
baby.
It was not a large room either, or it did not look so
when full of coloured draperies and floating veils and
garments modified from the Indian saree; and its
peculiar furnishing detracted from its space still more.
At one end was a carved bedstead canopied with em-
broidery, at the foot of which stood a beautiful inlaid
chest. Round each side of the room were cushioned
seats reminding Claudia of pews in a church, save
that they were more narrowly divided. They were so
padded with cushions as to be rather high, and when
she sat down on one her feet barely touched the floor,
tall though she was. In the centre of the room was a
round table, of obviously European make, with a
gramophone standing on it, and on the walls hung a
jumble of glass and china of the commonest kind,
such as are seen in seaside lodgings in England, and
the brass- work and pottery of the East. The horrid
juxtaposition made Claudia gasp even more than the
narrow barred windows that could only open half-
way.
The pleasant fluttering crowd of women stood
round her, admiring and even fingering her dress and
asking the eager questions of children. Clinging to
EXILE 63
them one and all was that strange scent that Arab
women have in their clothes, their hair, about their
whole persons, and which of all odours seems most
vaguely reminiscent of forgotten ages. It is not the
smell of incense which haunts India, or like anything
used by other races it is made of dried spices or
odorous woods, and hangs in the nostrils like memory.
Claudia liked it. It was somehow part of the strange
house and its occupants, just as the women liked the
sense of daintiness and freshness in the English ladies.
It added to their pleasure in her visit that her study
of Arabic had given her some fluency, for Lady
Stroud's knowledge only allowed her to speak in a
few conventional phrases. Claudia admired the baby,
whose soft, downy head was already decorated with
a little embroidered cap, and made friends with the
little boy, who was too shy to do more than stare up
with eyes of the blackest velvet. How pretty the
faces were! There was hardly a plain one amongst
them. She remembered once saying with enthusiasm
to her husband that she pitied him for not being al-
lowed to see Arab women unveiled as she could do,
the smooth oval faces, laughing dark eyes, and perfect
teeth! And he had smiled. . . . She read a sudden
meaning into that smile. No doubt but he had plenty
in his house at Banishment, though of a lower class.
She wondered as she sat there amongst them all if
they knew that Everard had slept in the house the
night before, though barred and bolted away from
their quarters, and that he was in hiding. But after
a minute's reflection she knew that they did, and were
well informed of his having fled in the dawn on the
desert route to Health. Shut away behind her barred
64 EXILE
windows and doors there is nothing that the Arab lady
does not know about her neighbours, and though she
may only peer at the world from the narrow peepholes
of her walled-in roof, she contrives to see everything
that goes on in the streets of the city below her far
more than her European sister, who has more to oc-
cupy her. They would gossip behind their guest's
back, perhaps guess that her visit to-day had some-
thing to do with the Chief Justice being secretly in
the house last night ; but there was nothing in the ring
of laughing faces clustered round her to betray it.
After a while tall glasses were brought in on a tray,
and Claudia knew that she must partake of refresh-
ment or she would bring ill-luck to the house. She
did not care for the very sweet iced lemonade after
her recent tea, but it was better than the Arab beverage
that went by that name, and that was really made of
herbs. As she gravely sipped from the long glass she
tactfully admired the trimming on the dress of Has-
san's wife (possibly he had more than one, but this
was the formal queen of his household), knowing that
it was the lady's own work. They embroidered skil-
fully and well, these Arab women, but always for their
own adornment
"We must make some music for you English mu-
sic!" said Sitt Indahu Hassan, and Claudia shivered
inwardly to see one of the younger women setting the
gramophone in motion. The only tunes that presented
any melody to Arab ears appeared to be the records
of bagpipes, for Claudia instantly recognised the raw
skirl in the sounds that poured forth, making further
conversation impossible. She listened courteously,
still playing with the children, and wondering when
EXILE 65
Hassan might himself arrive and how long she could
stretch her visit out. She was conscious of a feeling
of exhaustion and extreme tire for the first time, and
the Arabic that came so easily with her teacher was a
dreadful effort. Yet she must see Hassan even if she
waited until the last minute before returning to dress
for dinner at Government House. How strange it
seemed to think of Government House after this Arab
household, essentially Eastern despite the gramophone
and the cheap china on the walls ! How strange Lady
Stroud must find it when she came here! Claudia's
eyes wandered round the odd room the cushioned
seats, the great bed; she wondered if her lines had
fallen in such places whether she would ever have been
reconciled to sharing the man she loved with his fam-
ily and other wives? It was of a life with him she
thought rather than of her husband, in whose posses-
sion she had no jealousy. Could she have borne it?
Then she knew herself foolish, since to be allowed to
live with him anywhere, under any circumstances,
would have been better than her heart's starvation.
The little Arab room would not matter, the other
women would not matter, so long as he gave her love
for love.
She sat on and on in the deepening twilight waiting
for Hassan, that strange scent in her nostrils. And
when at last she knew by the flutter of the women that
he was coming she rose leisurely and began to say
good-bye, mingling her farewells with her greeting
to him as he entered, and congratulations upon the
health of his family. He accompanied her to the
door, and himself carried a light to the gulf of the
66 EXILE
outer stairs to light her down. She had calculated
upon this.
At the head of the stairs she paused and turned her
face to him, ashen in the light of the lamp he carried.
"My husband went to Health this morning?" she
said without more preamble.
"Yes, madam!" She had spoken low, but in Eng-
lish, and he followed suit.
"Can you communicate with him in cypher >
through your agents there?"
She had often seen Hassan in his own large shop
among the silks and the embroideries, but he seemed
a different person in his own house, with his face bent
on her like that, almost sternly, with keen attention.
He was a handsome man, with a black beard and a
type of face that is both crafty and noble at the same
time. He might be a rogue, but he was not a craven.
His villainies would be, had been, bold ones. She
found herself almost respecting him for this, remem-
bering the panic fear that she had witnessed last night.
"Do you wish a message, madam?"
"He must not leave Health he must on no account
seem to be running away or to go on to the Port,"
she said rapidly but clearly. "Mr. Murgatroyd told
me to get him warned by some means or other with-
out communicating with him directly. He must ap-
pear to be still at Health on leave, as though he had
never left it."
Hassan stood silent a moment, holding the lamp in
his hand. The light struck upward into his composed
face, and she felt the strength in him for good or ill.
And still that strange scent of the women's clothes
EXILE 67
seemed to linger in her nostrils, mingling spices and
dried woods.
"The message shall go to-night," he said at last,
and she found herself instinctively relying on his as-
surance.
"You think you will be in time? He will not have
left for the Port?"
"He does not reach Health until to-night," he said
guardedly.
"But do you think "
"Madam, it seems that we must be in time !"
She drew a breath that was almost sobbing. She
had stood the rack for twenty- four hours and there
was worse to come.
"Did any one see him here?"
"No!"
That sufficed her. She turned, without more adieu,
to the stairs and descended slowly, Hassan holding
the lamp at the top. As she passed the doorway, the
porter bade her a loud good-night, and she found
her carriage waiting, immovable, in the roadway.
"Get home as quick as you can," she said to the
abuggi. "I am dining out."
The musical bells and the roll of the wheels sounded
once more in the dusty streets, flaring now with elec-
tricity, and the wild rush of the outer air bore away
the faintness that had seemed to threaten her for a
minute. There was something more to be faced
something much worse. The dark tunnel opened its
mouth for her and let her through to the outer circuit
of the Rocks, which thrust their jagged spires amongst
the stars again. It was a beautiful night, fresh and
clear; but still in Mrs. Everard's nostrils seemed to
68 EXILE
hang that old, old scent that Cleopatra might have
used, and the Queen of Sheba, and former civilisa-
tions yet.
"Long ago," she said, looking up at the Rocks, "I
was an Eastern slave, and the man I love was my
master. And I shook that powder into my clothes
to make myself more desirable, and the scent was al-
ways with me. I know as well as if it were yesterday
but he has forgotten."
CHAPTER IV
"My foe, undreamed of, at my side
Stood suddenly, like Fate;
For those who love the world is wide,
But not for those who hate."
T. B. ALDRICH.
HE ayah had laid her dinner gown on the bed,
and was waiting with Oriental calm until her
memsahib should submit to be dressed. Most of the
wives of high-salaried officials had Indians for maids,
the rest of the housework being undertaken by Arab
boys. Only the lowest class of Arab women could or
would undertake housework, and the English women
could not have them as body servants.
Mrs. Everard let down the heavy weight of her
hair herself, since Bahoo was not capable of hair-
dressing, and proceeded to brush it out with delib-
erate care. Every stage in her dressing marked one
nearer to the moment when she must face the meeting
at Government House, and she felt that she could not
hurry. The brush seemed to have grown leaden, the
length of her hair miraculous, as her arm swept stead-
ily down it, brushing out the depths of its dusty gold.
It was never bright hair for all the care bestowed on
it ; it would not glitter, it would only give back a dull
shine from her small fine head.
"The memsahib will wear the white and gold
dress?" asked the ayah, as Claudia at last turned from
69
70 EXILE
the glass. She had had her bath already; the coils
of her gold hair were bound closely round her head,
there was no delaying the final putting on of her
gown, and declaring herself ready.
"I suppose so," she said reluctantly. She would
rather have worn black it suited her mood, and
somehow seemed less noticeable. She felt that she
had no right to be noticeable, the wife of a man who
was himself an unexposed criminal, even though the
law could not touch him. But in that climate women
who were still young seldom wore anything but col-
ours. At least the gown that Bahoo was slipping over
her head was a dull white crepe Chinese crepe
bought at Hassan's, she remembered, and ridiculously
cheap for what it cost in England, since Exile was
an open port. With the mere name of Hassan some
whiff of that strange Arab scent seemed in her nos-
trils again, and her eyes had grown dreamy while
Bahoo fastened her gown.
The sound of the carriage rolling up over the gravel
roused her to the hurt of reality and what it portended.
She must go now, she tied a chiffon scarf over her
hair, since the carriage was open and there might be
a wind, and Bahoo dropped the cloak on to her shoul-
ders.
"Don't wait up for me, Bahoo, I might be late,"
she said vaguely, with an idle wonder as to how it
would be if she never came back at all if some con-
vulsion in the Rocks, after all these cycles of years,
should suddenly engulf the petty, troubled life at their
feet an insect life compared to their immemorial ex-
istence. If only it might all end to-night the strain,
and the bewildered fear, the lost ideal of her husband,
EXILE 71
and the helpless pain of her love! She was a young
woman to feel that death would be an infinite relief
in the vortex of her mental experience; but she did
feel it, without either sentimentality or affectation,
as the carriage bore her away through the intersecting 1
roads of the Rocks towards Government House.
It had struck eight some ten minutes before Mrs.
Everard drove out of her own compound. Dinner
at Government House was always at 8.30, a conces-
sion to the Admiral's preference, for the usual dinner
hour in Exile was nine o'clock. The carriage dashed
away through the fringe of the Fort, and up another
track beyond the Marines' quarters, out on to a head-
land which was accounted the healthiest spot in Exile.
It commanded two bays, and the sea breezes favoured
Government House from either side. Unless there
was a desert wind, or no wind at all, there was always
air up there; but to-night it chanced that there was
no wind at all. Mrs. Everard discovered this as she
turned in at the gates, past the sentry, and unbound
the scarf round her head, giving all her wraps to the
red and gold servants awaiting her at the doors. They
took charge of her, and marched her through a long
grove of pillars up to the further end of the bungalow,
where Lady Stroud was chatting to the guests already
arrived.
For a minute Mrs. Everard could not turn her gaze
from the Arabs' turbans as they announced her, she
was so afraid of realising Hervey's presence. But
the two red and gold figures drew back and left her
going forward blindly to reach Lady Stroud. Then
the mists round her cleared, and she saw with a sense
of relief that the Government engineer was not pres-
72 EXILE
ent only the Admiral and Lady Stroud, Barbara
Playfair, Mr. Merryn, Rodney Haines, and the Flag-
Captain and Mrs. Bunney. Yet Lady Stroud had told
her a week since who was coming, and had begun the
list with Hervey. Some momentary escape had
opened out for her from an impenetrable fate, that
was all she knew. Of course, it must come some time
it would perhaps be better to get it over; but she
breathed long and sweetly for the moment, with the
enjoyment of not feeling an icy hand on her heart.
"Mr. Everard hasn't returned yet, I hear. I nearly
telephoned if he should come back to bring him too,"
said Lady Stroud in her pleasant voice. It seemed to
Mrs. Everard like treachery to answer that voice, and
not to shudder at the thought of Everard eating at hon-
ourable men's tables. Hervey had been right in judg-
ing that the disgrace would cut her deeply.
"No," she heard herself say composedly. "He has
not even settled a day for his return. Indeed, if he
decides to stay on for another week, I might be tempt-
ed to join him" and then wondered why she had lied
unnecessarily.
"I should, if I were you. I only wish we were out
at Health ourselves," said Lady Stroud cordially.
"It must be heavenly after the heat we've had lately.
Captain Bunney, will you take Mrs. Everard?"
Claudia put her hand on Bunney's white coat-sleeve
and felt a sudden conviction that she was ludicrously
hungry and should enjoy her dinner. It was childish,
but the cessation of immediate fear had reacted in a
desire to snatch some arrears of pleasure from trivial
things. Dinner at Government House was generally
informal, unless some big official had been reluctantly
EXILE 73
ordered to Exile, though the men were in uniform and
they drank the King's health sitting, after the fashion
of the Navy. Mrs. Everard found herself between
Bunney, who was her dinner partner, and Rodney
Haines, who had brought in Lady Stroud. It was
a round table, and the Admiral was sitting nearly op-
posite, with Mrs. Bunney on one side of him and his
niece on the other. The girl's face reminded Claudia
of a flower again in its extreme transparency. Her
eyes had that opening look which a flower turns on
the sun.
"I hope that if the soup is not a success you will
none of you allow yourselves to be poisoned with it !"
said Lady Stroud as they sat down. "I confess that
it is an experiment, and Ramzan had never seen such a
thing in India."
"Callia, isn't it?" said Mrs. Bunney, mentioning the
one wild vegetable that grows in Exile under severe
cultivation. "I think it quite excellent. And of course
he could not have known anything like it in India. It
is a triumph for Ramzan!"
"It's a triumph for his sex, rather!" said the Ad-
miral with a twinkle in his eyes. "Even in the do-
mestic arts, Mrs. Bunney, you must own that men ex-
cel women. They are really better cooks!"
"Yes, their hearts are in it!" said Mrs. Bunney
sweetly, and the Admiral laughed at his own discom-
fiture.
"Not even the fondest interest in food would make
a Somali a good cook, however," amended Captain
Bunney. "When Freda and I stayed at Half-way
House, on our way to Health, Hassan had obligingly
sent us a Somali to cater for our mortal wants, and
74 EXILE
it very nearly ended in our having immortal wants,
for he did his best to poison us."
"Oh, but we never mess at Half-way House when
we go out there," said Lady Stroud. "Mr. Hervey's
bungalow is far too convenient! We send over to
him for every single thing we want, if we do not actu-
ally have meals with him."
"My Government engineer has to combine the du-
ties of hotel proprietor with his own for the enter-
tainment of the Governor!" said the Admiral with his
rich laugh. "Ah, well! Hervey's a good fellow.
I am sorry he couldn't come to-night."
"He is coming in later, in the hope of some music.
Mr. Haines, your fiddle is a sure magnet for Mr. Her-
vey. He is extraordinarily fond of music, though he
does not say much about it."
"Oh, Hervey and I have regular caterwauls over
at his bungalow," said the Colonial Secretary with
his eager smile. "He plays my accompaniments, and
then I play and he criticises. He's a fine critic. We
must get Miss Playfair to sing for him."
"I should be afraid!" said Barbara, opening her
large eyes.
"I am sure you have no need to be!"
"But you have not heard, me yet," said the girl
with her usual literalness.
He laughed a little, and then something drew his
attention to Mrs. Everard, who had leaned back in
her chair and was taking absolutely no part in the
conversation. He always wondered what it was that
made him ask her if she felt the draught from the elec-
tric fans too much if she were cold?
"Not at all," she answered him calmly. And yet he
EXILE 75
felt as if she had been shivering. Perhaps it was that
dull white gown she wore, and her colourless skin,
that gave him a sense of chill ; but it was a very beau-
tiful effect that Claudia Everard created with her pas-
sionless face and figure.
"Do you care for music, Uncle Jonathan?" Barbara
was saying, regarding the Admiral with her limpid
gaze. She was a favourite already with him because
she laughed at his jokes with genuine amusement, and
thought him quite beautiful in his uniform. It is
difficult to resist the double compliment of a wit and
an Adonis.
"No, my dear, I'm a Philistine and a Goth," he in-
formed her in mock confidence. "Haines caught me
asleep one night when his rendering of Schubert was
drawing tears from all eyes, and since then I've been
ashamed to look him in the face. The gramophone is
about my standard for music. We'll have the gramo-
phone out after dinner, just to balance Haines' fiddle
turn and turn about with him."
"Oh, my dear, I do hope not!" said poor Lady
Stroud, who suffered from the shocks produced by her
husband's pet records. "You don't know how dread-
ful it was on Sunday," she added, turning confiden-
tially to Rodney Haines. "The Archdeacon lunched
with us, and the Admiral insisted on his hearing the
gramophone before he left. We had had a lot of new
records from England, and some of the labels had be-
come unreadable. Mr. Merryn put in one that we
thought was "Waft her, Angels," and the wretched
thing began to grind out "He'd pawned his bags on
Saturday night, and couldn't go to Church !" I believe
the Archdeacon thought we did it on purpose."
76 EXILE
There was a roar of laughter all round the table,
and the Admiral laughed loudest. "We didn't realise
what had happened for a minute," he said, "because
the opening- bars are so like a hymn tune. And Mer-
ryn lost his head and couldn't stop the thing, and there
was that music-hall fellow bellowing out of the record
about his old woman asking where his trousers were,
and why he couldn't get out of bed! That's a fine
record we must have that one to-night!"
"Really, Jonathan! I must draw the line at some
of your records now we have Barbara with us," pro-
tested Lady Stroud, seizing on the girl's presence as
a merciful protection.
"But, Aunt Fanny, I like gramophones!" said Bar-
bara, leaning across the table in her eagerness, with
her ingenuous face in the full light of the lamps.
Even Lieutenant Merryn smiled, and the Admiral
laughed aloud as he patted her shoulder.
"That's right, Babs! You and I will enjoy our
records whatever the others do. There's a beauty
called 'Nightcaps' "
"Oh, I love that song!" said Barbara serenely. "It
comes into the Pyjama Girls. They used to sing it
on board coming out."
Mrs. Everard looked half curiously at Rodney
Haines as he sat beside her, with some curious intui-
tion that he was being subtly hurt just as he had
known that she was cold with terror, though he had
not recognised the terror. There was a certain sym-
pathy between their minds that had often helped her
to understand him, and she wondered rather pityingly
why he should have to suffer through this large-eyed
girl who was so truthfully laying bare the shallows
EXILE 77
of her nature. He was regarding Barbara across the
table with the tender indulgence one would give to a
child, and yet Mrs. Everard divined that the girl's
frank liking for gramophone music left him a little
blank. Probably he did not himself know that he had
wanted Barbara Playfair to have a mind that could
respond to his own, to feel the magic of music as he
felt it, even unto tears. He looked at her candid face
and imagined her as a flower or some unrippled sur-
face of pure water; and all the while Barbara was
just a girl.
With that premonition of trouble for him upon her,
Claudia Everard watched him later on, when after
dinner they walked through the pillars back into the
drawing-room, or rather that portion of the bungalow
which was used for a reception-room, for it was really
all one. She was herself standing by the piano one
of the few pianos in Exile, where they were ruined by
the climate and he was crossing the room with his
violin in his hands, for she was to play his accompani-
ment. He walked with a queer little swing that was
suggestive of a lame gait, though he was not really
lame, and for the first time it flashed across her that
the reason she had thought his face pathetic was that
there was a look in it that one sees in the faces of crip-
pled or deformed people.
"What have you chosen?" she said, taking the mu-
sic from him. "Gounod's 'Serenade.' Do you ever
feel that you have moods in which you cannot play
certain music? Does your music depend at all upon
your frame of mind?"
"I have had that sort of thing knocked out of me
through my work," he answered with a little shrug of
78 EXILE
his shoulders. "You can't afford to have moods in
the Colonial Service!" and he made a wry little face
that in another man would have been a laugh. Rod-
ney Haines did not often laugh, though when he did
his laugh was as genuine as a boy's; but his voice in
speaking was merry, and he had a certain personal
humour as if he shared a joke with himself rather
than with mankind.
Claudia sat down to play for him, wishing she could
see the audience, for she was curious as to how the
music would affect certain of them. The aching
sweetness of the "Serenade" always struck her as a
little out of place in the lights and convention of a
drawing-room, and in Haines' hands it lost nothing of
its lover's appeal. He drew the bow over the strings
a little slowly at first, more slowly than is usual, and
she hardly realised when the music quickened, with a
hint of delicious passion, until the violin seemed a
veritable whisper under a balcony. There was no
doubt that the Colonial Secretary of Exile was a very
exceptional amateur, and if his technique was not al-
ways flawless he had more than a touch of genius.
But Mrs. Everard had never heard him play better
than he did to-night, and though it was only Gounod's
"Serenade," that she had heard a hundred times, she
felt as if something were awakening in the player
through the familiar, exquisite air.
"I always feel that I have been defrauded of some-
thing when I have been playing your accompani-
ments," she said gravely as she rose from the piano.
"I cannot properly listen to you and cry."
He glanced at her quickly, and to his surprise saw
EXILE 79
that two great gems were really hanging on the fringe
of her lashes. He had never noticed that Mrs. Ever-
ard was affected in this way before, often as she had
played for him, because he had always been lightly
parrying the applause and the thanks that his audi-
ence showered on him for his own performance. He
thought he liked her better than ever before, not for
the flattery of her tears, but because of the added
beauty of her face.
"Does music always affect you like that?" he said.
"Perhaps you are like me I fancy it is my one strong
emotion."
"It depends on the music," said Claudia with a fine
smile. "You will not find me crying over the gramo-
phone !"
They sat down side by side to hear the next item on
the programme, which was Barbara's singing. Lady
Stroud played for her, and Mr. Merryn's duty as*
A.D.C. decreed that he turned over the music. Ban
bara had chosen a new song that had no affinity witb
the ballad type, and was of a school that has entirely
ousted the "Some Day" and "In the Gloaming" of
the eighties. It is probable that her mother sang
"Some Day," but the sickliness of those lovelorn dit-
ties was less incongruous to the atmosphere of a draw-
ing-room than the words which Barbara sang with-
out the least conception of their meaning.
"Our life is like a narrow raft
Afloat upon a hungry sea:
Hereon is but a little space,
And each man, eager for a place,
Doth thrust his brother in the sea.
8o EXILE
(And each man, eager for a place,
Doth thrust his brother in the sea.)
And so our sea is salt with tears,
And so our life is wan with fears.
Ah, well is thee thou art asleep !" 1
The tune was happily minor, and not too accentuated.
It was one of those songs whose soul is more in the
words than in the music, but the two complemented
each other well enough had the singer ever lived and
learned. Barbara's voice was the pure, tuned organ
of a child, developed by careful practice, and trained
to work easily and gracefully that is to say, she drew
breath and produced her notes correctly and with ease.
But the incongruity of her level utterance and entire
lack of expression made it almost ludicrous to Mrs.
Everard's ears. She glanced at Haines and saw that
he was looking down, his sensitive lips a little drawn.
There was something that was almost pained surprise
in his face, despite his control of his muscles.
Merryn turned the page at the conscientious mo-
ment, and stood upright with an air of relief. The
song struck him as a very silly one, but he vaguely
enjoyed the girl's lissom figure and unruffled face as
she opened her red lips and sang from her chest she
was certainly not singing from her heart, but then
Lieutenant Merryn saw nothing to put your heart into
in such nonsense.
"Our life is like a curious play
Where each man acteth to himself.
'Let us be open as the day !'
One mask doth to the other say
That he may deeper hide himself.
1 1 do not know who is the author of these words. They
are from a poem called "Life."
EXILE 8l
('Let us be open as the day!'
That he may deeper hide himself.)
And so the world goes round and round
Until our life with rest is crowned.
Ah, well is thee thou art asleep !"
"Thank you!" said Merryn as the girl turned and
lifted the song from the stand.
"Bravo, Barbara!" said Lady Stroud kindly. "You
have a delightful voice. But, my dear, what an accom-
paniment to read at sight!"
"I am afraid it is tiresome," said the girl in her
fresh, speaking voice so much more animated than
her singing! "Thank you so much, Aunt Fanny!"
"Do you sing 'Because' ?" asked Merryn a little dif-
fidently. He could understand "Because," and he
thought the sentiment beautiful in the English version ;
he did not know the French. "I should think it would
suit your voice awfully well."
"It is rather hackneyed, isn't it?" said Barbara. "I
got this one" touching the music she held "because
it is quite new, but people are beginning to talk
about it."
"What a curious reason for choosing a song," said
Mrs. Everard with a little smile to Rodney Haines.
"And how like a child!"
He was sitting with his head in his hands, in an
attitude of unintentional despair.
"It was the wrong song for her altogether," he
said desperately. "But she could sing some of Chami-
nade's."
"Or those folk-songs from the English counties,"
said Mrs. Everard. "If she only would! How de-
lightful the "Raggle-taggle Gipsies" would be in thai
82 . EXILE
unspoiled young voice ! I never dared to attempt it."
"It wants the insouciance of youth," he agreed, his
face lighting up again. "And her execution is quite
good enough. When I know her better I will suggest
it to her."
"She will not thank you!" said Mrs. Everard, a
little whimsically. "She thinks she is quite mature
enough for the rendering of any dreadful truth she
does not want to be sent back to the nursery." And
Mr. Merryn has just urged her to sing 'Because'!"
"Oh, heavens!" he exclaimed, and sprang up with
one of his impulsive movements as if to prevent the
threatened visitation. Claudia saw him cross the space
to the piano with that curious halting gait and inter-
rupt the desultory conversation between Barbara and
Merryn without apparent intrusion, but by the very
force of his more dominant personality. She watched
him leaning over the instrument, talking with his eyes,
his shoulders, his hands, every expressive bit of him
as well as his lips. He was always living a great deal
harder than other people and the fire of life burnt his
eyes hollow and the lines into his face. For it was a
dissatisfied face, as of a man for ever asking and get-
ting no answer, though Haines himself was but dimly
aware of it, and would have laughed off the suspicion
as a jest. After a minute his mere vitality drew the
girl away from the Flag-Lieutenant as by a magnet
and absorbed her in his eagerness, and she stood
listening to him with that pliancy of her youth that
made his momentary ascendancy seem like mastery.
She was not talking much herself Barbara never did
talk much to Rodney Haines but she appeared quite
compliant.
EXILE 83
"He will not let her sing- 'Because'!" said Claudia
wisely.
But the Colonial Secretary need not have troubled,
as the strictly musical programme was over, for the
minute at any rate. The Admiral proposed an ad-
journment to the compound, where lounging chairs
were nightly set, and on windless nights the gramo-
phone stood on its own table and absorbed the energies
of Mr. Merryn, who sat by its side like a lion- tamer
with his beast. The invention of the gramophone
extended the duties of an A.D.C. beyond the carrying
of cloaks and paying of obligatory calls. His servi-
tude was for the moment so punctilious that it drew a
comment even from Mrs. Bunney.
"I wouldn't be a flag-lieutenant on shore, in his
capacity as A.D.C. , for anything," she whispered to
Claudia in confidence, tfieir chairs happening to be
side by side. "My husband says it is an acid job.
Mr. Merryn looks like nothing on earth !"
"I hope it leads to something," said Mrs. Everard
kindly. "Any one doing the duty of an A.D.C.
seems to me to serve seven years for Leah without
the hope of Rachel!"
"He is better off than most, anyhow. The Strouds
are archangels; they treat him like a son."
"They are very good to all their staff. Mr. Smyth
I mean the Admiral's secretary, not the E. T. Smyth
sat next to me at the Debating Club and spent the
evening in telling me how they looked after him when
he was down with fever. Where is he to-night?"
"Pigging it with Dr. Bride. I hate a grass-wid-
ower's household; it is all cold soup and the smell
84 EXILE
of yesterday. The food used to be quite good while
Mrs. Bride was out here, but I suppose that was on
Mr. Hervey's account."
"Hush!" said Claudia, rather suddenly. "I think
we ought not to talk."
The mysterious clearing of its throat which a
gramophone always makes to ensure silence had given
way to the first bars of an obviously comic song. It
did not need the Admiral's huge chuckle to prepare
the company for the tones of Mr. Rorty Bill's well-
known voice issuing from the decorous wooden box
in riotous assertion:
"I am a man who lives by rule
To make me fit for Heaven:
I rise at eight, and go to bed
Somewhere about eleven.
But just before I Foxy-trot
Away to by-by on the spot,
I like a glass of something hot
It is my little nightcap !
Nightcap nightcap everybody's nightcap.
Some prefer it red as rum, and some prefer a white cap !
My old woman calls it sin,
But I should call it Plymouth gin
When she concocts a nightcap!"
Claudia, lifting her head, looked straight up into the
endless sky, where the stars drew back and back into
infinite distance. The compound was an open space
of baked earth in lieu of a garden, screened in by
trellis- work instead of trees. It was on the level of
the plateau where Government House stood, but im-
mediately beyond the trellis- work the hill fell swiftly
to one of the bays, and on the further side rose the
tremendous outline of the Rocks. There was a carpet
EXILE 85
spread upon the bare ground, for the night dew lay
heavily upon everything even upon the lounging
chairs and the gramophone on its table. The lamp
behind the gramophone burned steadily, and its light
fell most brilliantly on Lieutenant Merryn's immov-
able, good-looking face as he renewed or put in rec-
ords, and more faintly on the other members of the
group. Contrasted with the width of the sky and
the stars, the little cluster of men and women listening
to the gramophone seemed to dwindle and shrink to
the dimensions of busy ants.
"Nightcaps nightcaps pretty little nightcaps !
All the girlies go to bed in pink or blue or white caps !
'Kiss me for a last good-night,
And tuck me in so nice and tight !'
They murmur from their nightcaps!"
The Admiral had laughed his full and the record
had been changed. Mrs. Everard brought her gaze
down from Orion, striding across the heavens, and
was vaguely aware that Barbara had laughed quite
as whole-heartedly as her uncle, and was now listening
with equal enjoyment to the swing of a waltz refrain.
Her foot kept time mechanically to the rhythm, and
her eyes chanced to wander to Lieutenant Merryn's
erect white and black figure in its mess-coat and
evening trousers. No doubt he would be an excellent
partner in a waltz. He looked strong and in training,
and he had a good ear for rhythm. Claudia's eyes
turned from the girl a little wonderingly to the
Colonial Secretary, who, with his head tilted back,
was following her own abandoned study of the stars.
"Let's have 'I'll butt in!' Come Merryn, give us
86 EXILE
Til butt in !' " said the Admiral as the waltz ended
with a methodical clash.
"My dear!" said Lady Stroud gently. She glanced
at Merryn. The blood had risen a little in his face,
and he looked as though embarrassed between laughter
and dismay. "Shall I ?" he ^hesitated, meeting
her eyes.
"Jonathan, we really can't have that second
verse !"
"Well, let's send Barbara to bed !" said the Admiral
wickedly.
"Oh, no, Uncle Jonathan!"
In the universal laughter the advance of the two
turbaned servants was unobserved ; but Lady Stroud's
salvation in the nick of time was secured by the new
arrival entering the circle.
"Mr. Hervey!" said the Arabs, bowing low; and
in the next breath "Mrs. Everard's carriage!"
Mrs. Everard had risen leisurely as Lady Stroud
was greeting the Government engineer, and had com-
bated the protests about her early departure before he
had fairly entered the compound.
"It is half-past eleven," she said. "Thank you!"
for Hervey had stepped back to allow her room to
pass through the opening of the trellis into the hall.
"Can I find your cloak for you?" he said of neces-
sity, and she answered "Thank you !" again, surprised
that her voice obeyed her will at all, for her whole
body shook as if with ague.
For a moment they were alone on the further side
of the trellis to the rest of the party, who were still
arguing for and against "I'll butt in!" punctuated by
EXILE 87
the Admiral's mellow laugh. Now was the moment
that she must grasp. Now this task given her had
to be attempted. And she was paralysed. She looked
at Hervey's huge bulk, the massive head and shoulders
towering above her, and his physical weight seemed
crushing her. She could have screamed for mercy,
both for her husband and herself.
And then her voice spoke like a disembodied thing,
a servant obedient to subconscious control.
"Are you very busy just now, Mr. Hervey?" it said.
"Could you call upon me soon? To-morrow, if
possible. I want to talk to you on business."
He turned rather slowly he was too big a man for
hasty movements and looked at her with level grey
eyes. It struck her that she had seldom seen such
cold dislike in any one's eyes. Men were mostly too
indifferent to her to hate her.
"Yes," he said deliberately. "I will do my best
to call upon you to-morrow, Mrs. Everard. I am
engaged in the afternoon, but about six o'clock?"
"Thank you!" she said again, almost inaudibly.
His immediate compliance had told her that he knew
the subject of the business to be discussed with him,
and his next words struck her as rather ghastly in the
light of this comprehension.
"I hope that you have no complaints to make of
the new installation?" he said with conventional
courtesy.
"No, it is not the electric light," she said with stiff
lips. "Good-night!"
She bent her head as he stood aside for her to pass
out of the hall. It was still bent as she got into the
88 EXILE
carriage and was driven downhill. Half-way home it
was buried in her hands and she was crying bitterly.
Hervey's prognostication had come true. But it
was not because she was a good woman that Mrs.
Everard had cried.
CHAPTER V
"And so the good gay girl, with eyes and cheeks
Diamond and damask cheeks so white erewhile
Because of a vague fancy, idle fear
Chased on reflection! pausing, taps discreet;
'Open the door!'
No: let the curtain fall!"
ROBERT BROWNING.
HERVEY'S engagement on the following after-
noon was to take the Government House party
over the waterworks at Reserve. Lady Stroud had
asked him to fix a day for Miss Playfair to see them,
and he had named an early date because he thought it
likely that he would be cruising next week with the
Admiral. Sir Jonathan was never very dependable
in his plans, and would surprise his staff by taking
the flag-ship up the Gulf or down to Seychelles with
a suddenness that made everybody strenuous before-
hand for twenty-four hours. Since the war it had
been found advisable to relieve the East Indian and
Cape commands by curtailing their extended beats,
and' there had been two cruisers and a gunboat or so
at Exile, as well as the torpedo flotilla that was con-
stantly coming and going. But Exile was even more
valued for the facilities of its dockyard than as a naval
station, and was rapidly increasing in importance on
this account.
89
90 EXILE
Hervey was a frequent guest on the Silverside when
she was cruising. He was an excellent sailor and no
habit that she had of kicking in a swell could banish
him from meals (it was notorious that the Admiral
was always sick for the first twelve hours at sea) ;
and men always appreciated him as a companion what-
ever his moral drawbacks. Perhaps he was too
massive of mind and body to adapt himself easily to
women's fellowship, for, save those who knew him
too intimately, women did not cultivate him. Lady
Stroud, it is true, liked him in spite of herself, and
Barbara Playfair was inclined to give him a wonder-
ing admiration, which was generally his portion from
girls. To the majority of the women in Exile he was
more or less of a dangerous experiment, better let
alone. But men of all ages would rather go out to
his bungalow in the desert, or to his quarters in
Reserve, than to any other house in Exile.
It happened, therefore, as he expected, and he had
not been five minutes at Government House before
the Admiral turned to him with an invitation.
"Going with me on Thursday, Hervey? I'm off
to Bunder Abbas."
"I thought Bunney looked rather greyer than he
was last week," said Hervey drily, narrowing his eyes
as he glanced across at the Flag-Captain. "All right,
sir; I'll be delighted."
"Only a week's cruise just to keep her going,"
said the Admiral. "Haines stays here to represent
me, as Colonel Darner is down with fever, and Merryn
comes along with us."
"Oh, Uncle Jonathan, I do hope you won't take
EXILE 91
the gramophone!" said Barbara earnestly; and there
was fresh laughter.
"Who's going to work it for you if I take Merryn?"
asked the Admiral. "You can't ask Haines he's
the boss here, pro tern."
*"Qh, Mr. Merryn can show me how before he
leaves. I'll work it," said Barbara readily.
"I shall find all my best records worn out before
I get back," grumbled the Admiral, to tease her. "I'll
leave it on condition that you don't have 'Nightcaps'
more than twice a night, Babs, and Til butt in !' only
once."
"Oh, Uncle, you've quite spoiled my plans ! I meant
to have known them both by heart by the time you
got back."
"Do you sing, Miss Playfair?" Hervey asked at
once, turning to her.
"Not very successfully," said Barbara with unex-
pected shrewdness. "I sang a song to-night that Mr.
Merryn thought was stupid and Mr. Haines beyond
my compass."
Merryn flushed uncomfortably, but Haines laughed.
"Not your compass, your experience," he said frankly.
"Wait till you sing to Hervey ; he is a far more brutal
critic than Merryn or I."
"I should be afraid to sing to Mr. Hervey, any-
how," said Barbara, turning her candid eyes on the
Government engineer. "Are you as fierce as you
look, Mr. Hervey?"
"No, only as people make me look," he responded
good-humoured ly. "If you sang flat I might be ex-
cused for a savage distortion of my features, surely!"
"Miss Playfair would never sing flat 'those pure
92 EXILE
sopranos never do," said Haines with the certainty of
the expert. "But she might go sharp, if she strained
her notes at all."
The girl turned her face to him wonderingly.
"What a wonderful ear you must have, or how keenly
you must have listened to know that already!" she
said. "You might have been studying me and my
voice for years and I only met you yesterday!"
"Some days count in eternity," said Haines
quietly.
Barbara thought privately that he was trying to be
clever, and she wished he wouldn't. She always
thought that a truth must be an epigram if it did
not rest upon a material statement. A fine day to
Barbara meant that it was not raining, but she had
an uncomfortable impression that to Haines it might
have meant that his soul was at peace with itself.
Yet she liked Rodney Haines, and liked him more
and more with each hour spent in his company. He
was so deft and tactful, and so kind; and then he
was always at her elbow, and that meant that he was
the immediate thing in her mind. She was not biassed
in favour of one man or another, and the one who
was nearest had her interest. When they motored
over to Reserve the following afternoon the two
ladies were escorted by the Colonial Secretary and
Mr. Merryn. The Admiral was busy in the dockyard
harrowing the soul of his chief of staff and the secre-
tary over next week's cruise, and Rodney Haines took
his place with Lady Stroud. When they reached the
works, however, Hervey was waiting for them, and
naturally dropped into place beside the Governor's
wife, leaving Haines to follow with Barbara. Mr.
EXILE 93
Merryn brought up the rear with Lady Stroud's sun-
shade. She had contracted a habit of giving him
something to carry, as one does a well-bred retriever,
when he had no one to escort perhaps to console
him, perhaps to keep him in gentle training.
The waterworks are supposed to be, and perhaps
are, the most important buildings in Exile; but it is
as much what they represent as their appearance that
is imposing. They stand in a gap between the Rocks,
lifted high over the plateau of Reserve, and are partly
built upon what was actually the old bed of the river
that had watered the city of the Phoenicians. When
Richard Hervey first came to Exile, fifteen years be-
fore, he was prospecting for the Government, who
were considering the possibilities of finding oil in the
desert-land beyond the chain of hills of which the
Rocks are the outliers. Hervey came to burrow for
oil and report; but the devil of energy was in him at
five-and-twenty, and he burrowed for water as well
as oil, having learned its value in Exile. At that
time there was, as Haines had told Barbara Playfair,
an Eastern Telegraph station where the Marines' mess
now stands, a gunboat in Fort Bay (which was then
a small coaling station for tramps), and a condensing
plant to supply fresh water for the few who cursed
their lot at being quartered on a few miles of rock
and desert; but that was all save for the Arab popu-
lation, who haunted the European settlement like
scavenger dogs. Hervey messed with the E. T. staff,
and asked ageless questions that nearly got him tum-
bled over Fort Head into the sea. Like Arthur
Clennam, "he wanted to know," and nobody could
inform him because it was nobody's business to find
94 EXILE
out. Where was the old city of the Phoenicians
exactly, and why was it embedded amongst the Rocks
rather than on the fine natural harbour of Fort Bay?
Whence had the Phoenicians got their water, and, if
there had been a considerable river to make Exile a
port of such importance to them, where was that
river now? Rivers large enough to float Phoenician
galleys and form a trade route for their merchandise
do not generally run dry or dwindle into mere pools.
To which the E. T. staff responded, "Dry up your-
self, or get out!"
Hervey laughed, and went to dig in Reserve.
There was an Arab village of sorts there, even in
those days, and the Arabs could tell him more about
the formation of the Rocks and their origin than the
Europeans. Reserve plateau was the result of vol-
canic action, but the convulsion that had spewed up
the Rocks in ages before that of the Phoenicians had
not been followed by the extinction of the forces
below, which a few million years later tore out a
chasm in what were then green mountains, and poured
boiling lava in sheets upon the face of the living earth,
stilling it to death. Incidentally it had buried the
Phoenician city and altered the course of the river,
which had been swallowed up in the earth's wounded"
breast. The Arabs, however, showed Hervey traces of
the old watercourse, choked with volcanic dust and
refuse and the debrtis washed down from the moun-
tains, sometimes buried under the lava, but unmistak-
ably there and leading through the rocky chain down
to the coast.
"If we could recover the water supply it would
make Exile second only to Malta!" said Hervey (it
EXILE 95
must be remembered that he was twenty-five). "We
could have a floating dock. There's draught enough
there for the biggest ship afloat. And we should have
fresh water for a garrison. But where is the river?"
The Arabs pointed downwards, and showed him a
further mystery. Six months before there had been
a slight earthquake shock, not an unknown occurrence
in Exile, but productive this time of fresh fissures
in the Rocks. "Since this had happened the surface of
the Rocks which formed part of the chasm torn by
the volcano was sometimes wet. It must have been
the wall of the old river bed.
"The Phoenician city was on a lower level," said
Hervey. "The lava overflowed the whole crater, and
the convulsion shifted those solid rocks as a chess-
player moves a pawn. The river's there still, it runs
right under the desert, and probably comes from the
mountains in Arabia. After a rainfall the water level
rises now, because the earthquake squeezed up some
of the fissures in the rock and stopped the underflow
of wafer, so that it had to dribble through higher up
somewhere. Tlmt's how the face of the rock gets
wet."
It took him another month to find a vulnerable
spot. The deposit of ages, assisted by the lava, had
formed a cement almost as solid as the Rocks them-
selves, but Hervey knew that the earthquake must
have opened a crack through which the patient, per-
sistent water had worn its way drop by drop in search
of its old channel. In the course of many more ages
it might have worn its way through again, even if
not assisted by some fresh convulsion of Nature. But
when he became convinced of the existence of the
96 EXILE
river and of its possible recovery Hervey's task was
only begun. If he tapped the river, at the spot which
was the only one possible in that encasement of rock,
it would pour down the face of the cliff and be quickly
lost in the shifting sands of the coast beyond Fort
Bay a coast so dangerous that it made its own de-
fences, but of no use for docking ships. The engineer
handled water as a good horseman handles a horse
for his own purposes, and not its natural inclination.
Guided by the wet rock faces he judged the depth of
the river from the surface, and began to bore to find
its distance from the face of the cliff. This was work-
ing by faith rather than by sight, and he bored four
or five times before his patience was rewarded; but
to carry the precious fresh water into the settlement
of Reserve and further on to the telegraph station
meant sinking a well and erecting a pumping station.
Hervey went home with the river in his pocket, as it
were, instead of oilfields, and offered the Government
fresh water of life and a naval station from a barren
wilderness. It was then that he learned the vitreous
nature of departmental routine, which as a geologist
should have interested him. He had thought himself
a discoverer, and that he deserved praise from the
Empire; but the Government of the day was not
pleased. It had sent Mr. Hervey to find oil as a
paying investment, and it did not approve of young
men who returned with schemes for a full-grown
colony that would mean undoubted expenditure and
a doubtful return for the capital invested. If Exile
had not been of strategic value Hervey's boreholes
might have remained as a monument to British im-
perturbability, but certain developments in the trade
EXILE 97
of the Gulf brought the grinning Rocks of Exile into
ominous public notice. The young engineer became
an unexpected authority, and went out again with a
staff and facilities. Followed the waterworks and
the dockyard though the latter was not his job. His
life work lay in Reserve, and his record was the
group of flat-roofed buildings that looked like bar-
racks designed by an Arab architect. It was not an
obvious result for fifteen years of iron determination
and tenacity; but the man's real achievement lay in
the whole settlement of Fort Exile, the indirect result
of a genius of will power and personality.
"When I look at the Fort and at Reserve, and at
the docks and the garrison, I see Hervey," said Rod-
ney Haines. "I don't need to be shown the water-
works and told how he recovered the river he is
everywhere. The Club is Hervey, and Government
House, and the cutting through the Rocks. They
all took their life from him, and are the outcome of
his personality."
"But I think the waterworks are wonderful!" said
Barbara, lifting shining eyes from the contemplation
of Hervey's great cisterns and filter-tanks, out of
which the water flowed into the main reservoir and
was carried thence by pipes into Reserve. The cen-
trifugal pumps were worked by electricity, and it was
for the more centralised position of his dynamos that
Hervey had coveted Hassan's business premises in
Reserve. The humming of the pumping engines and
their motors made the waterworks seem a very vital
spot in the heart of Exile, and Barbara gazed down
fascinated from the starting platform above the
throbbing, rhythmic machinery. "I love this it's so
98 EXILE
alive!" she said. "Those engines, and the wells, and
the water are the thing in itself after all are they
not, Mr. Haines?"
"No, they are only the result," he answered ear-
nestly too earnestly for her careless smile. "The
thing in itself is really Hervey it is the power that
brings it all to life that really counts."
She shook her charming head. "I don't think so.
I like results, not causes. When you play the violin
it is your music that I enjoy, not the practice that
you went through first."
"But the music is me!" he argued gently, with
his eager eyes on her frank face. He so much wanted
her to understand that his restless face sharpened
with the effort. It was like teaching a child.
"I'm afraid I can't follow that," said Barbara, with
a little laugh. "I must have something definite that
I can see, or hear, or touch. I mean, it would not
satisfy me to know that you were capable of playing
the violin if you did not play it to me."
"If the gift is there it is bound to find expression,"
he said. "And the expression is only the material-
ising of oneself." Then his blue eyes grew almost
wistful with a look that Mrs. Everard had often
noticed and that had gone to her heart. "You could
not like my music without liking me, could you,
because it is me?" he said coaxingly.
Barbara fixed her clear eyes on him for a minute
as if considering the case. There was no shadow of
a thought in them, nothing but the receptiveness of
a child.
"Of course I like you!" she said kindly. "But
I should like the music anyway, if any one else had
EXILE 99
played to me as well." She walked on over the bridge
that led from the engine-houses to the men's quarters,
and over Rodney Haines' heart as well, quite uncon-
scious that he had dropped behind. "Mr. Hervey,
I am so hungry!" she said. "Do you think I could
get any halwa in the bazaars, or should I be poisoned ?
I like halwa."
"Barbara, you are a dreadful baby!" said Lady
Stroud, laughing. "You are always munching or eat-
ing things all day. My husband gave her some halwa
to taste," she explained to Hervey. "I think it filthy,
but Barbara takes to it like a native."
"It's sweet," said Barbara serenely. "And it's only
like rather bad apple paste."
"I can give you something better than halwa," said
Hervey with the indulgence he showed to animals or
children. "I ordered tea to be ready at my house, in
case you and Lady Stroud would like some."
"Oh, how joyful!" said the girl, strolling along by
his side as they made their way back to the car.
"Have you a house in Reserve? I didn't know. Do
you live here much? I thought every one lived in
the Fort."
"I have an old Arab house, adapted to my needs.
But I don't live here much I only put up in Reserve
when I am wanted on the spot. It is too hot to be
pleasant in the town as a general rule."
She thought how nice he was, and how simple,
though he was so clever and had done such wonderful
things. Rodney Haines' constant appeal to her un-
awakened mind flattered her, and yet at the same time
gave her the feeling of a child listening to longer
words than it understands. Hervey had not said
ioo EXILE
anything that was at all tiresome, in spite of being
such an important person. But then Hervey was not
yearning for a new intelligence to dawn in her kind,
candid eyes and answer him soul to soul. She was
to Hervey a pleasant girl who even liked halwa and
would enjoy the tea he had provided. He wanted
no more of her, if she had but known.
"It is such a relief to feel that one of those houses
is clean!" said Lady Stroud as the motor set them
down at a great carved door in the heart of the town.
"How did you manage it, Mr. Hervey? I had to call
on Al Sitt Indahu Hassan the other day, and the
house is so stuffy, and I'm sure they never beat the
dust out of the cushions !"
"It took a good month to get it sanitary," said
Hervey, laughing. "I took it over from three families
who had all camped here at once poorer class Arabs,
who lived with their goats and hens and cats all
together, to say nothing of the babies."
"Disgusting! I have never been in the poorer
quarters; I am not allowed, as the Governor's wife.
But Mrs. Everard goes everywhere with the Mission
sisters, and I believe they give her the most dreadful
things to eat and drink."
"Worse than halwa ?" said Barbara gaily.
"I did not know that Mrs. Everard went in for
mission work," said Hervey in an indescribable tone.
Its venom was so subtle that Lady Stroud uncon-
sciously began to apologise.
"I daresay they are a farce; I don't believe any
Mahomedan ever was converted to Christianity. But
I believe Mrs. Everard only goes because she is inter-
ested in Arab life."
EXILE 101
"How beautiful she is!" said Barbara almost fer-
vently. For the first time her eyes grew dreamy, and
something that was almost like a shy devotion altered
her careless face. "I looked at her across the table
last night, and I I wanted to kiss her! There is
something so wonderful in the lift of her upper lip."
"Why, Barbara!" Lady Stroud laughed and the
men smiled. The shadow on Haines' face vanished
again, and he turned to the girl quickly as if pleased.
"I wonder if Mrs. Everard for one moment guessed
what was passing in your mind ?" he said. "I thought
she was looking rather depressed ill something."
"I am quite sure she never thought of Barbara or
any one else kissing her," said Lady Stroud positively.
"I don't believe any one ever would, unless it were
her husband."
"It seems unlikely," said Hervey, with the same
quality in his tone that had cheapened the mission
work.
"Of course, one wouldn't do it," said Barbara,
laughing and colouring, as if rather shocked. "But
I should always want to."
"She has a beautiful mouth," said Haines kindly.
"The upper lip is very short and finely cut, as Miss
Play fair says. But she is so lifeless, or quiet, that
she gives me an unhappy feeling."
"She can be awfully kind!" said Merryn unexpect-
edly. It was almost the first remark he had volun-
teered, and he turned rather pink as he said it. But
after all, he had his reward. Barbara's eyes met his
with the sudden appreciation and understanding that
Haines had looked for in vain.
"Let us grant Mrs. Everard all the virtues. I am
102 EXILE
glad she is not here to demonstrate them, however,"
said Hervey coolly. "The presence of a goddess or
an angel is apt to have a paralysing effect upon con-
versation. One can only pray or sing hymns in their
presence."
"I was going to put you next to her at dinner last
night," said Lady Stroud mischievously. "See what
you escaped by not dining! You could not have
prayed, and it would have interrupted the courses to
sing hymns."
"I always thought she talked rather well, if she
did get interested in a conversation," said Rodney
Haines with his kindly smile. "When they first came
out you used to discuss all sorts of things with her,
Hervey."
"She was just fresh from Europe, and I read her
like the weekly papers," Hervey admitted. "That
kind of intelligence never lasts in Exile. She is
probably as dull as ditch-water now; but I can't say
I speak from experience," he admitted. "Here's your
tea at last, Miss Playfair."
They had entered the dark carved doorway as they
talked, made their way up a flight of stairs lighted
from above, and emerged into a kind of gallery open-
ing out of a room that was screened off by carved
woodwork. The gallery was really the sitting-room,
and, like many Arab houses, it extended round a well
that was' open to the rainless skies, and made a shaft
of light and air to the whole house. From the narrow
space between this well and the wall opened small
cupboards and bed places, but the gallery was wider
between the shaft and the carved screen, and it was
here that chairs had been set and Lady Stroud and
EXILE 103
Barbara sat down. A further staircase led up on to
the roof, where the women's quarters had been, and
where Hervey said he slept when in Reserve. The
Arab servants had brought tea up from the kitchens,
which were on the ground floor.
"You could have sat on a pile of cushions if it
would increase the Arabian atmosphere, Miss Play-
fair," said Hervey as he handed her the delicious
cakes and scones that his Arab cook had learned to
make "after long grief and pain."
"Oh, why didn't I think of it !" said Barbara, laugh-
ing. "Only I should be sure to spill my tea."
Haines had sprung to a small couch against the
wall, and was divesting it of cushions for her, his
action so light and boyish that Hervey appeared
ponderous beside him when he walked into the room
beyond, and returned laden with more cushions which
he flung at the girl's feet. Haines and she together
arranged them in a pile, and then with a little air of
including him, Barbara handed her cup to Merryn
while she slowly lowered herself on to the cushions
and sat with her feet crossed under her. It seemed
a perquisite of Mr. Merryn's position that people
always gave him something to hold or to carry as
consolation for not including him further.
"My legs are too long!" Barbara said, looking up
at Haines with laughing eyes. "Are all Arabs short-
legged people?"
"They don't wear modern skirts!" said the Colonial
Secretary teasingly as he stooped and drew the linen
skirt over the tip of a white canvas shoe. There
was something almost reverential in the action, as he
might have touched a shrine.
104 EXILE
"I think one wants to be dressed for the part,"
said Lady Stroud. "You look far more European
sitting on the floor, Babs, than you did on a chair."
It was one of Lady Stroud's most lovable charac-
teristics that she never suggested that people were
doing improper things. If her niece liked to sit on a
pile of cushions in Hervey's house she treated it as
part of the entertainment, and did not throw the
shadow of the Governor's lady over the laughing
scene. Barbara ate her tea on her improvised seat,
waited on by Rodney Haines and the silent Merryn,
and Lady Stroud talked to her host. She did not
know that Hervey's keen, sleepy eyes were quite as
cognisant of the faces of all three as her own.
"Haines has got it badly," thought the Govern-
ment engineer, without hesitating over a suspicion
that was only just beginning to make Lady Stroud
uneasy. "He's simply leaping into love with every
ordinary thing that girl says or does. It's the first
time for him, and he's going to be very sick before
he's through." Then it occurred to him that the
education of being in love was a process that com-
pleted the artist in man, and he was ruthlessly
pleased because there had always been one thing want-
ing in Haines' music a vague seeking, a falling short,
that Hervey had felt. It lacked inspiration for all its
perfection, and this horrible thing that was going to
happen to him might prove the magic touch needful
to complete it. Hervey was perfectly aware that to a
nature like Rodney Haines' there might be much
ecstasy in store and infinite pain. He vaguely pitied
the fellow, but for himself he hoped that it might
improve his music. Hervey possessed the cold-blooded
EXILE 105
fervour of the critic untrammelled by any experience
in the ordeal awaiting Haines.
After tea they went up on the roof to show Barbara
where the women mostly lived in Arab households.
It was a large, flat space, surrounded by little walls
some five or six feet high, and open to the sky. It was
impossible to see down into the streets save through
the narrowest slits in the walls, carefully grated in;
and this was all the means the Mahomedan ladies had
of observing the world outside their own homes. Yet
nothing happened within their sphere of vision that
escaped them, and for rumours further off they had
an unfailing source of supply in their household
servants.
"What a dreadful, shut-in life!" said Barbara with
a shudder, bending her tall head to one of the little
eyelet holes and peering through. "How can they
bear it? Has there never been a revolt of women
amongst the Arabs?"
"My dear, they like it !" said Lady Stroud, laughing.
"They are the goods and chattels of one fat, turbaned
man who boxes them up here with some henna to put
on their nails, and some gold tinsel to make em-
broidery, and that queer powder that scents their
clothes, and they are as pleased as Punch. Revolt!
No the more they are shut up the more they give
themselves airs."
"It must be intolerable!" said the English girl, with
her head flung back to look at the free sky overhead.
"They are in love with the master of the house, you
see!" Haines reminded her.
"They can't all be in love with him."
Haines laughed. "A rich Arab has no more than
io6 EXILE
four wives, and the rest of the females in his women's
quarters are generally widows of his relations, or his
own sisters or mother. They all live very happily
together."
"Yes, but 'I couldn't be happy with any man unless
I were free!"
"That is presupposing that you will always love
freedom better than any man."
She looked at him with puzzled blue eyes. Mr.
Haines was beginning to be clever again, and she did
not understand her own sentences when transposed
like that.
"I should be so bored!" she said quite frankly.
The sudden darkening of Haines' eyes might have
meant laughter or tragedy. He laid her cloak round
her shoulders, for Lady Stroud was ready to go,
and the movement was almost as if he enveloped or
protected her from something worse than the night
wind.
"You shall not be bored," he said lightly. "We
will all see to it that you have the whole world for
your playground, and no single Arab shall shut you
up on the roof!"
Barbara paused for a minute to allow Lady Stroud
to get into the motor first. The dust lay thick upon
the outside of the car, as it always did in Exile after
a few miles, and as the girl put her foot on the step
Lieutenant Merryn leaned forward and placed his
hand over the guard to save her white skirt. The
little courtesy must have made him very dirty, since
he was not wearing gloves, and he was an instinctively
clean young man ; but perhaps the dust on his fingers
in Miss Play fair's service was as much a consolation
EXILE 107
as holding her tea-cup. He said nothing, but took
his seat last in the car, and they drove away, Haines
still talking to Barbara. She had not even been aware
of the saving of her skirt from the dust.
Richmond Hervey was standing in his own door-
way to watch them depart, and was an appreciative
witness. He flung up his square shaven chin, and
laughed with genuine humour as he went to his own
car, which was waiting behind the Governor's.
Merryn's little unrequited service struck him as ex-
tremely ironical and rather suggestive. Why should
a man take the trouble to keep a woman's skirts clean
if she did not do so for herself? And she had never
even thanked him!
"Poor devil!" said Hervey grimly. "And that's
part of his honorary duties. A.D.C. ought to stand
for 'A Damnable Commission.' '
He had enjoyed the afternoon, and the presence
of two women whom he could honestly like pleased
him in his own house. Lady Stroud was deservedly
popular in Exile; Barbara Playfair had the effect on
men of a clean wind, or a mass of garden flowers, or
the upraised face of a child, even on Hervey she
brought a quieting influence as of something rather
happy that had happened near him, though not be-
longing to his own life. He wondered, if he had had
a young sister, whether he could have borne to see
her in Exile, whether he could have guarded her
enough; for, like all men who have been convention-
ally immoral, he was horribly afraid of such evil com-
ing near his own womenkind. Physical things had
grown to have an exaggerated value to him, so that
he could not realise that to women like Lady Stroud
108 EXILE
or girls like Barbara they hardly existed on the level
of everyday. It needed the shock of a tragedy to
force the question of sex upon their consciousness,
and their indifference was their safeguard. Hervey
would almost have isolated a girl on the roof in the
Arab fashion against which Barbara had protested,
because his own deeds had made mankind a menace,
though he knew that personally he would have faced
death rather than allow a breath of harm to touch
such a girl. And then suddenly in his thoughts he
saw Lieutenant Merryn's action in another light the
strong, clean hand shielding the girl's white skirts
from the dust of the car. That sort of thing was
not done for a reward, though she had not thanked
him.
CHAPTER VI
"Wife of my foe thus pleading before me,
There seemed no wrong;
With my mad passions that stifled and tore me,
Who could be strong?"
DORA SIGUSON SHORTER.
r I A HE Government engineer got into the driver's
seat of his car and took her gently out into the
busy streets of the town. It was growing dusk, and
he found it necessary to sound the warning note of
his horn to clear the parti-coloured crowd out of his
way, just as Mrs. Everard's driver had rung his silver
bells. Hervey was going down to the Chief Justice's
bungalow now, to keep his appointment with Mrs.
Everard. He drove slowly partly because he did
not want to overtake the Government House party in
front and apprise them of where he was going, partly
because he wanted time to arrange his thoughts and
get his statements against Everard clearly in his mind.
He shook off the kinder influence of the past hour and
hardened his heart, for he was quite certain that Mrs.
Everard had been in ignorance of her husband's mis-
handling of justice, and if she were still in ignorance
he meant to spare her no detail. He could not himself
have told why a savage desire to crush and wound this
particular woman had taken possession of him, but
he dimly realised that it had waited in the background
of his mind for many a long day, and that he rejoiced
IOQ
no EXILE
when the opportunity was put into his hands. He
remembered her composed white face last night when
she had asked for the interview, and the dazed grief
in her eyes. Those eyes were the only thing that
betrayed her, for her face was like a mask, even the
beautiful curved lips being under complete control.
She was a curious woman; he wondered how she
would take it whether the stabs of the accusations
he could make would bring any convulsion of her
calm, whether he could draw blood and make her
wince. There was a certain horrible excitement in the
mere anticipation, and he dwelt upon it with loath-
some fascination. He did not mean to spare her one
revolting fact she had never spared him the gall of
her silent aloofness and superiority, though she did
not know it. He thought it very likely that she did
not know it, and had merely passed him by as some-
thing immaterial and undesirable; but he hated her
none the less.
By the time Hervey's car rounded the foot of the
Rocks and turned up the ascent to the Everards'
bungalow the lights were coming out in Exile. They
shone like pale stars here and there amongst the lower
slopes of the Rocks, with a galaxy for the garrison,
and an electric crown for Government House. The
"Luna" purred with a deep vibration up the hill, and
Mrs. Everard heard it coming through the open
windows of the drawing-room. When Hervey was
announced she was sitting at the writing-table with
her head leaning on her hand, a pile of written chits
beside her, and her thoughtful eyes reading a list of
engagements propped up beside the inkstand. The
lights were up in the dining-room beyond the pillars,
EXILE in
but only one lamp was turned on over Mrs. Everard's
head to enable her to see. As Hervey entered he
noticed the light on the dull gold of her hair and the
curve of her neck and shoulders. She was wearing a
dark transparent gown, and had already dressed for
dinner, though it was not much after six.
"I am afraid I am late," he said with rigid polite-
ness. "I was showing Lady Stroud and her niece
over the waterworks, and they stayed to tea at my
house in Reserve. I came straight down when they
left."
"It does not matter," she answered in a perfectly
level voice. "I dressed early, to feel myself free to
talk to you when you should arrive. Won't you sit
there?" She made a motion to the chair nearest the
writing table a polished wood chair substantially
made, for Hervey's great frame demanded something
more than basket-work furniture and he sat down.
As he did so she was distracted by a horrible feeling
of still hearing the purring hum of his car coming
up the hill, and realised that she had sat and listened
for it in such tension that the sound at last had been
burnt in on her brain. She wondered how long, after
he was gone, after it was all over, she should still
hear that motor coming up the hill, and turning into
the compound. . . .
Hervey was looking at her with his critical, level-
lidded eyes. He speculated whether anything would
ever disturb that quiet face, the lowered screen of
thick lashes over the eyes, the short curve of the
superb upper lip; he laid a bet with himself that if he
could take her pulse it would not be hurrying one
jot yet.
112 EXILE
"My business with you to-night is purely business,
Mr. Hervey," said Mrs. Everard deliberately. She
was looking straight in front of her, and did not turn
her serious eyes in his direction as she spoke, while
her head still rested on her hand as before, the chin
supported in her palm. "You hold a certain letter
of my husband's, which was written in error."
"The Chief Justice paid me the unmerited compli-
ment of judging me by his own standards!" he said
with a kind of ghastly irony.
She bent her head a little, as if in tired assent. "It
was an error," she repeated. "He admits that. May
I ask, before I go further, if you have answered the
letter?"
"No," he said curtly. "It was a letter which will
answer itself, in time."
"Have you destroyed it?"
"I am sorry you think me a fool, Mrs. Everard !"
There was a pause after the harsh sarcasm. Then
he spoke in his turn.
"Do you know what was in that letter?"
"No, I have not read it," she said patiently. She
had never once looked at him, and yet she knew every
ugly alteration in his face anger, contempt, disbelief
in her, vindictive revenge, she could have counted
them over as they altered the deep lines round his
mouth and eyes.
"Your husband asked me to join him in a syndi-
cate to control and monopolise the silk trade," said
Hervey deliberately. "As you know, it is illegal for
Government officials to enter into large trading trans-
actions here, more especially with the Arabs in Exile.
Ali Hassan was one of the syndicate the principal
EXILE 113
member, I understand; and the Chief Justice and I
are both Government officials. Mr. Everard thought
his proposition balanced, however, by the fact that I
was already in secret a director of Moses, Kalif & Co.,
the Jewish agents. In this he had been misinformed,
but he was so sure of it that he used it as a threat
to ensure my consent. If I did not agree to join the
silk combine he was going to expose my connection
with the banking agency and their money-lending
methods, with which he was quite conversant. I wish
you to understand me thoroughly, Mrs. Everard!"
"I understand you thoroughly!"
"Perhaps it is necessary to inform you that I never
had any connection with any Arab or Jewish firms in
Exile. As a rule it would be quite unnecessary to state
that of any decent Englishman, but your husband
having explained his own standard to me, I think it
better to inform you."
"Yes," she said simply.
For a minute he hesitated. If he had not hated her
he thought he would have cynically admired her life-
less composure and the perfectly modulated voice. It
was impossible to tell what she thought or felt, or
how much she acquiesced in Everard's blackguardism.
If she were his accomplice throughout she was calm
through preknowledge of what he had to say; and
yet somehow he guessed that she had been ignorant,
until this minute, of all that had taken place. Her
composure was a thing almost beyond his imagination
for a woman to assume.
"In order that I might appreciate all the advantages
of the silk combine, however, the Chief Justice took
me into his confidence with a frankness that shows
1 14 EXILE
how entirely he believed that I was in his power.
He told me in that letter which he sent 'in error'
that the whole of the trade was practically in our
hands, or would be. As he had removed Lestoc,
Arabi, and Raschid Taima, our most serious rivals,
so he would get rid of Azopardi & Co., the only firm
of importance left. There was a warrant out against
them already for contempt of court the same dodge
he played on Arabi."
She interrupted him for the first time. "Wait a
moihent I do not understand. The case of Arabi
was for libel "
"Pardon me, Mrs. Everard, it was for contempt of
court, and was managed in this wise. When Lestoc
was made a bankrupt on the cabled word of a man in
Bombay, public opinion was pretty freely expressed,
but as the officials are not in the silk trade Mr. Everard
ignored it. Jacobs, however, went into Arabi's office
after the conviction and said to him, 'What do you
think of this sentence of the Chief Justice? Rather
severe, isn't it?' Arabi, who was a friend of Lestoc's,
flamed up into indignation and denounced the Chief
Justice as a scoundrel. Jacobs had his clerk with him
as a witness. 'That's enough/ he said. 'I'm going
over to the court-house to lay information against you.
It's contempt of court.' He went over to the court-
house, where Mr. Everard awaited him. It was a
planned thing. Arabi was in gaol next week and fined
a thousand rupees 'just at a time when his small
business happened to be in a crucial condition, as the
'silk combine' knew. Very simple, isn't it, Mrs.
Everard?"
"Go on."
EXILE 115
"You will see that Mr. Everard had reason to say
that he could, or would, remove all rivals out of our
way. He had already done so in various cases. That
public opinion which I mentioned, however, was a
spoke in the wheel of trade success, and to give the
syndicate a good basis he paid me the compliment of
thinking that there was no name so good as mine to
have on the directorate. That is the gist of his letter,
Mrs. Everard. It is all stated with that lucidity and
legal plainness for which Mr. Everard is justly
notorious."
For a minute there was silence. Mrs. Everard
seemed to be taking in his statement. Then she turned
to him for the first time, and with a little odd thrill
of triumph he saw that there was an unusual stain
of colour in her face, as if some one had flicked the
angry blood into it under the torture of a whip. Her
eyes looked almost wine-coloured as she turned them
on him, but there was not the least quiver in her face
except for a little pulse that seemed to be beating in
her cheek. He watched it with a very cruelty of
pleasure.
"And what price do you put upon the letter?" she
said steadily. "I am empowered to offer you any-
thing, without hesitation. There is a site, I think,
you want in Reserve for the power station. Would
that count?"
For a minute he was so furious with anger that he
could not answer her. That having failed in the bribe
of great wealth for the silk combine was a mag-
nificent trust scheme Everard should dare to offer
him another bribe, or unlimited bribery, struck him as
intolerable. The Chief Justice was judging him still
n6 EXILE
by himself, and the insult reached Hervey like a blow
between the eyes. He wanted to strike back at the
man, brutally and physically, but Everard was not
here he was skulking behind this impassive figure
of his wife empowered to offer any price to the man
who thought himself above prices. The only way of
striking at the husband was through the wife, and he
felt the rush of his passion in all his veins as he set
his will to crush them both in one fierce sweep of
contempt and scorn. The woman's beautiful, still face
maddened him too. Everard was a cur he would
have cringed. But here was something opposing him
almost worthy of the blow he meant to deal.
He rose deliberately from his chair, and leaned his
hand on the writing-table, bending a little towards
Claudia Everard with his stone-grey eyes on her
face.
"The site for the power station is not bribe enough,
Mrs. Everard !" he said with a slow smile. His voice
was as cold and steady as her own.
"Is there anything we can offer?" She ranged
herself unconsciously on her husband's side. "You
can name your price, Mr. Hervey."
"You are empowered to offer anything, Mrs.
Everard?"
She bent her head almost breathlessly.
"Even yourself ?"
In the silence that followed the word the little pulse
in her cheek seemed to beat almost audibly. Her eyes
had shifted from his when he rose and stood over her,
but she had not shrunk. The colour in her face, how-
ever, faded and left her as white as she usually was,
and her curved lips looked the redder by contrast.
EXILE 117
"I am empowered to offer anything," she repeated
tonelessly after a full minute; and even as she spoke
she remembered the panic terror in her husband's
face as he had hurled the words at her. Had he
thought of this meaning, too?
"The decision, however, rests with you," Hervey
said with the same mockery of courtesy. "In your
gift you have the only bribe I will take."
"That is your ultimatum?"
"Yes."
She hesitated, and then to his amazement spoke as
collectedly as if discussing a mere business proposition.
Would he ever understand this woman? Was she a
great criminal, or a martyr, or something of a
genius ?
"You forget," she said slowly, "that even if I con-
ceded that bribe, that it would be impossible for me
For the first time her voice died in her throat, but
her face was as set as marble.
"The details are not so very difficult," he said with
a cynical shrug, and even while he was speaking he
was surprised at the ease with which he sketched a
plan that he had never dreamed of until the moment
when he looked for an insult. "There is my bungalow
in the desert, and Hassan's Half-way House opposite.
What more natural than that you should go out to
Half-way House for change of air or you can go
to meet your husband on his return from Health if
you like, and by some alteration of his plans he does
not arrive!" His clean-shaven lips showed the be-
traying sneer. "Hassan's house is only partly fur-
nished not always ready for chance visitors. Under
n8 EXILE
the circumstances you would, of course, come to me,
and my hospitality is at your service!"
One great shudder seemed to convulse her from
head to foot. She pushed back her chair and rose
abruptly, but even now she did not falter, though she
did not look him in the face.
"Yes, I see," she said quietly. Then, "That is the
only price you will take for the letter?"
"That is the only price." The finality of his tone
was intentionally brutal.
She moved back from him a pace, that was all.
Her eyes had never met his again since he made his
proposition, and she turned from him now as if the
subject were ended for the time.
"I cannot answer you on the instant. Will you
give me twenty-four hours?"
"I am going cruising with the Admiral to-morrow,"
he said quietly, almost casually. "I shall be away a
week. You can write your answer for my return."
"Where am I to address it?" she said, and there
seemed some difficulty in the words. He wondered
why, when her control had been so marvellous up to
now.
"To my bungalow in the desert, please. I shall be
there for some days after my return," he said slowly
and significantly. "Good-night, Mrs. Everard!"
He did not offer her his hand. He walked straight
across the drawing-room and out of the door, leaving
her standing by the writing-table. She lifted her eyes
once as he passed through the doorway, and they
rested for a minute on his shoulders and the back of
his massive grey head. In the dead white mask of
her face they were alight and alive. His heavy foot-
EXILE 119
fall died out through the echoing bungalow, where
there were neither curtains nor draperies to deaden
the sound; but in her ears, much clearer than his
tread, was the sound of his approaching motor as she
had heard it coming up the hill, and long after the
real sound of it had died away into distance, taking
him with it, she still heard it approach with a hum-
ming purr that grew louder and louder in her ears
until she felt that it would deafen her to every other
noise for evermore.
CHAPTER VII
"Love is for no planet and no race.
The Summer of the heart is late or soon,
The fever in the blood is less or more;
But while the moons of time shall fill and wane,
While there is earth below and heaven above,
Wherever man is true and woman fair,
Through all the circling cycles Love is Love!"
SYDNEY DOBELL.
"A pretty woman left too much alone,
Her husband playing her the traitor's part
A child misunderstood a horse misused
These wrong God's Universe, and break my heart.
"The sin of those who sit in council seats
And bring red ruin on the helpless throng
The market places thronged with living girls "
"DARBARA!" called Lady Stroud, entering the
*-* drawing-room with an armful of ostrich feath-
ers. "Jacobs has brought these things for us to choose
from. My dear, where did you get that song?"
"I brought it out from home, Aunt Fanny," said
Barbara, swinging her long body round on the music
stool.
"I don't think it's very nice. I never heard you
sing it before."
"I don't know it yet," said Barbara indifferently.
"The third verse is rather pretty."
"But, my dear, the words! I can't think what is
1 20
EXILE 121
the matter with modern songs. It isn't only on the
gramophone," she added, laughing; "but children like
you stand up and sing the most dreadful things under
excuse of their being set to music."
"I never thought about the words," said Barbara,
opening her great clear eyes, as empty as the blue
sky overhead. "Except the third verse, and that's
about children leaving wild flowers to die on the roads.
You know how they pick them and then throw them
away. I can never bear to see it."
"Yes," said Lady Stroud a little doubtfully. "Well,
I think I shouldn't sing the second verse at all if I
were you. You haven't sung it to anybody, have
you?" she added a trifle anxiously.
"No." Barbara shook her charming head. "I
haven't learnt it yet, and you are all so critical !" She
left the piano and came over to the sofa, where Lady
Stroud had deposited the feathers. "Oh, Aunt Fanny,
how topping!" she said, lifting the long undressed
plumes in her hand. Lady Stroud motioned to a
native trader waiting between the pillars in the dis-
tance, and he came forward noiselessly on his bare
feet and stood looking from one to the other of the
English ladies with cunning eyes. He was an Arab
Jew, with a little scanty beard and aquiline features,
but he had something of the Arab grace if more of the
subtilty of Judah.
"Now, Jacobs, you are to sell to Miss Playfair as
you would to me !" said Lady Stroud warningly. She
was the best bargainer in Exile, and she knew the
value of the feathers and silks and curios as well as
the dealers. They did not attempt to cheat Lady
Stroud, accepting her with as much respect as a fellow
122 EXILE
rogue; but she paid fair prices and expected the best
for her money.
"What price are they?" she asked, lifting the long
white bunch of feathers that had enraptured Barbara.
There were four to the bunch, but when dressed they
would only make two plumes of any thickness.
"Twenty-eight rupees, ya siyyidha!" said the Jew
with a smile amongst the wrinkles of his old face.
He smiled very suddenly, and the next moment the
seriousness of the Oriental had settled down on his
face again and made it almost sad.
"Twenty-eight rupees that's about seventeen and
six each for your two feathers, Barbara," said Lady
Stroud practically. "You would have to give four or
five pounds for such beauties at home. These are not
joined they are all one feather. Well, do you want
any?"
"Oh, Aunt Fanny, I should love them! And those
dear little Marabout tips, and the natural ostrich!"
"Don't ruin yourself/' said her aunt, laughing.
"That's about three pounds' worth you have chosen
rather less, because the Marabout are cheap. I
want some white feathers myself. Those are not long
enough, Jacobs."
"I will send up more, ya siyyidha. I expect fresh
feathers in to-day."
"They come over from Somaliland," Lady Stroud
explained. "Very well, Jacobs, send me up a bunch
as good as Miss Playfair's. Have you your purse,
Barbara? Jacobs has one price, and I never try to
beat him down as I should another man. You had
better pay him now, or I will lend you the money."
"No, Aunt Fanny, I'll pay wait a minute." She
EXILE 123
ran off into her own room, returning with the silver
netted bag and the bargain was settled. Lady Stroud
had been unconsciously urgent that the purchase of
the feathers should be over and done with while the
Colonial Secretary was absent on his duties. She was
uncomfortably aware that Mr. Haines had a marked
tendency to pay for anything and everything that her
niece admired and to make her a present of it. He
did it so eagerly and gracefully that it was difficult
to scold him, and well nigh impossible for the girl to
refuse. As long as it was only little camel bells and fili-
gree brooches it had not much mattered, but when it
expanded into gold tissue and embroidered silko it ran
into a number of rupees that Lady Stroud could not
countenance. Some connection in her sub-conscious
mind between her husband's deputy and Barbara's
purchases made her say suddenly, "I thought Mr.
Haines was with you. What has become of him?"
"Why, he had to be in the office this morning, Aunt
Fanny he told you so at breakfast!"
"Of course I forgot. And he is lunching with
Major Dalkeith, who is in command of the Marine
Light Infantry here. Do you remember when he will
be back, Barbara ? There is that polo match this after-
noon; we must have an escort. If he can't come I
must send for Dr. Bride."
"I think I mean he said he would be up soon
after lunch," faltered the girl, reddening. It was in-
evitable that she should redden, the Colonial Secre-
tary's desire to return to Government House as long
as she was in it being too patent for concealment.
And Rodney Haines was not concealing anything. He
had not walked into love in his sober senses, as men
124 EXILE
of his age might be supposed to do. He had rushed
into it with a velocity that had left nobody any breath-
ing space. The Silverside had been gone for four
days, carrying' the Admiral, his Flag-Captain and
Chief of Staff, the Flag-Lieutenant, the Secretary,
and the Government engineer with her, and Mr.
Haines had been Acting-Governor during that period
and in consequence in residence at Government House.
It was one of the vagaries of Fate that he was in
such a position, for the man who should have been
Acting-Governor in the Admiral's absence was, strictly
speaking, the senior military officer, who was in com-
mand of the Marine Artillery. But Colonel Darner
had an unfortunate taste for cocktails at the Club that
had resulted in a bout of fever, and the Admiral with
great' relief had snatched at the excuse for putting
Rodney Haines in his place. It seems a far cry from
Colonel Darner and his pirate-swizzles to the new wine
of love; but the fact remains that they were the in-
direct cause of hastening matters for the Colonial
Secretary. He had had the advantage of being under
the same roof as Barbara, of meeting her at meals,
of seeing how she looked from the time she got up in
the morning to the time she went to bed at night, and
he had gone headlong into that mysterious experience
of soul and body which we call "being in love," and
was plunging deeper and deeper with each hour that
passed.
It was impossible that either Lady Stroud or Bar-
bara could be blind to the state of affairs, though they
might ignore it at present. Poor Lady Stroud felt
the agitation of the whirlwind that seemed to be en-
veloping Government House even though the Colonial
EXILE 125
Secretary had not made open love to the girl she
did him that justice.
"He is a nice man," she said to herself in the midst
of her worry. "And of course he is quite eligible
and satisfactory as to his family. But I do wish it
had not happened quite so soon, or when Jonathan
was away? Only a week in Exile and this tiresome
man on the verge of a declaration to her, poor child.
If it had happened a month or so hence, now "
Unfortunately love is a fever which cannot be pre-
dated or deferred like other engagements. If it is
never the right time to be ill it is hardly more so to
fall in love. Even Rodney Haines would not himself
have chosen the suddenness with which his fate had
come upon him had he been asked. He had been
comfortably immune for thirty-eight years of his life,
save for burning his fingers at a married woman's
shrine when he was assistant secretary in a minor
colony, and had been regarded as very charming and
very hopeless by mothers with marriageable daughters.
He had only been six months in Exile when Barbara
Playfair walked into the Club and straight into his
heart, and he had not been bound to any woman's
chariot wheels during that time. A "dear fellow"
was what they said of him a little baffled by his ready
courtesy that was almost devotion and his attentions
that were almost a flirtation. He was thought to be
able to take care of himself; he thought so himself
until he found that all his manhood yearned to one
slight, long-limbed girl sitting opposite him at meals
in tantalising suggestion of domesticity.
The chief difficulty in the situation was Barbara.
126 EXILE
Lady Stroud had not the least idea how the girl was
herself taking the matter whether she were attracted
or whether she were simply a little flattered. She
looked at her now, with that flush in her cheeks as she
gathered up the beautiful white feathers and buried
her face in them with a childish effort to disguise the
blush. She was nineteen ; it struck Lady Stroud with
a shock that the Colonial Secretary was exactly twice
her age. But then he looked so young, and that eager
boyish air had been so pronounced of late. Really at
times he seemed younger than Barbara, who could be
rather solemn.
"You had better put your feathers in a tin case and
have them sealed up," she said as her niece was carry-
ing them off. "You can't get them dressed or mounted
out here."
Barbara hesitated, and the blood deepened in her
face ; but she looked at Lady Stroud with young eyes
like pools of water. "I wanted to show them to Mr.
Haines," she said bravely. "He asked me to show
him if I bought anything "
"Oh," said Lady Stroud with a feeling of being
nonplussed. "You can show them to him after
luncheon then, and my ayah shall pack them up for
you later."
Barbara nodded and turned away, the feathers in
her hand. As she crossed the polished floors to her
own room Lady Stroud heard her humming, and
then suddenly her voice broke out into the song she
had been singing:
"The market-places thronged with living girls
These make the scheme of all Creation wrong.
EXILE 127
"For oh to see the bluebells, idly plucked,
Flung in the roadway where the cattle trod!
I find my Heaven turned a Court of law,
Man the defendant, and the plaintiff, God."
"She is nothing but a baby; she has not under-
stood a word of that hateful song," said Lady Stroud,
exasperated. "Children throwing wild flowers away,
indeed! I shall give Mr. Haines a hint to tell her
that her voice is not suited to the music. No, that's
not fair to her; I shall tell her exactly what it means."
At half -past two the Colonial Secretary drove back
to Government House, and sprang out of the car with
an impetuosity that suggested ominous haste to Lady
Stroud. He came in with the halting gait that ought
to have been a limp, and brought his pathetic, crippled
face with that new radiance on it into the sunshine of
his lady's presence. Barbara was sitting on the arm
of the deep sofa, balancing her long body and smoking
a cigarette while she discussed the advisability of
going to rest until a quarter to four, when they
started for the polo ground.
"If I sleep in the day I get up about four and wan-
der out to the compound I do really, Aunt Fanny!"
she said. "And I met the most enormous Arab carry-
ing a pail of water, and he thought I was a ghost and
poured the water all over himself! I'd put a white
wrapper over my pyjamas, you see; and I suppose I
did look rather Oh, here is Mr. Haines! Now I
can show him the feathers."
She was gone before Lady Stroud could recover
her breath, and returned almost as soon with the dear
possession, which she waved triumphantly before the
Colonial Secretary.
128 EXILE
"Are they not beautiful? I bought them this morn-
ing," she said. "And the old Jew was such a dear,
with corkscrew curls and bleary eyes. He made me
out a bill in Arabic 'look !"
"Why did you buy these without me?" said Haines
jealously. "I wanted to give you some." He took
the feathers that Barbara had been stroking against
her fresh face and laid them as if absently against
his own. Lady Stroud felt as if events were moving
rapidly, and had a sensation as of guiding a runaway
horse in her position of restraining Mr. Haines'
emotions.
"I think you have given Barbara quite enough
presents," she said decidedly. "She wanted to buy
these for herself. And, my dear child," she added,
turning to the girl, "what do you mean about going
out of doors at four o'clock? You really mustn't do
that kind of thing amongst native servants!"
"But I was so wide awake, Aunt Fanny! And it's
so tiresome to lie in bed and remember what happened
yesterday. I do hate thinking over yesterday, and I
never do unless I lie awake."
"The evening's amusement evidently does not bear
the morning's reflection!" said Haines teasingly.
"Why didn't you come and knock us all up to amuse
you?"
"I knew Aunt Fanny was tired, and I never thought
of you," said Barbara composedly. "Oh, Aunt
Fanny" her lips began to curl with delighted mis-
chief "your ayah was so shocked at my wearing
pyjamas instead of a nightdress! She thought I had
stolen Uncle Jonathan's. She wouldn't believe they
were mine."
EXILE 129
"Well, it is a little unusual!" said Lady Stroud,
rather put out, for Haines had thrown his head back
like a schoolboy and was laughing. "We have not
adopted them out here, for women. Does your mother
approve, Barbara?"
"Not a bit," said the girl, laughing in her turn.
"She thinks it's fast. She thinks that everything that
is hygienic is fast she would like me to sleep with all
the windows shut."
"She would think us past praying for in Exile,
then!" said Lady Stroud with a rather vexed laugh.
"For we have no windows only jalousies." She
wished that she could get away from the pyjama sub-
ject anyway it sounded so intimate. And yet Bar-
bara, with a cigarette in her mouth, talking of pyjamas
or anything else, could never be fast. Mrs. Playfair
was wrong the girl carried her character in her eyes.
"Well, anyhow, you must go and rest if you don't
sleep," she added, rising. "We have some people
dining here to-night, and I don't want you to look
washed out."
"Mayn't Miss Playfair sit up a little longer?" asked
Haines with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "If she is a
very good girl, and I promise to look after her? I've
only just come back, and I've been working like the
proverbial nigger (the real one doesn't!) all the
morning."
But his urgency was, unintentionally, Lady Stroud's
best advocate. Barbara took sudden fright at a tete-
a-tete and became amenable. "I've got to write some
letters I shall write in my room," she said, passing
her arm through Lady Stroud's and pressing against
her unconsciously, so that the elder woman felt the
130 EXILE
leap of a startled heart. "It is only that Aunt Fanny
wants to make me lie down, and I hate it !"
Perhaps he felt that this sudden avoidance of him
was a good omen, for he did not urge his plea. Only
at four o'clock, when the motor came round to take
them out to polo, the intolerable happiness in his face
caused the Governor's wife a deeper dismay, and she
began to calculate the days no, hours, minutes that
lay between her and the crisis she was inclined to post-
pone. When a man begins to look as if heaven were
round the next corner, it is time to think of the rate
at which he means to get there.
The polo ground at Exile is some way out in the
desert, on the road to Hervey's bungalow. It is a
level stretch of sand, boundaried by little red flags
that remind one of golf more than the mounted game,
and it is open to all the winds of the world. There
is a tent in which the men can re-adjust disordered
costumes, and a line of ponies under the superintend-
ence of Arab grooms. Also there is a board on two
trestles and several dozens of ginger-beer bottles and
lemonade, under the control of an old Somali who
sits on his heels and makes money thereby. He is all
the relreshment that the Polo Club know, and after the
match he packs his goods on the back of a waiting
camel and returns with them to Reserve, issuing forth
with a new stock on the next polo afternoon. The
popping of ginger-beer bottles behind the tent was
as familiar a sound at Exile polo as the click of the
sticks on the balls.
Lady Stroud's party found two other motors
already on the scene when they arrived Dr. Bride's,
with the American consul and his wife, and Major
EXILE 131
Dalkeith's. The cars stood in the open desert just
beyond the tent, and there was no shelter anywhere
or laws of limitation. If the whole population of
the Fort or Reserve had liked to come out and squat
in the sand to watch the game there was nothing to
stop them. But the Arab has his business as well as
the Englishman, and it does not consist in playing with
a ball. '
"I always think it would be so much more appro-
priate if they could train camels to the game!" said
Lady Stroud, tying her hat on a little more firmly
with her motor veil. The wind was blowing hard, and
every now and then little pyramids of sand whirled
up in the further spaces of the desert and fell in tiny
ridges. She spoke to Dr. Bride, who had come up to
lean on the door of the car and watch the play from
there. Barbara was too absorbed in the game already
to attend to anything else.
"What awful sticks you would want!" he responded,
laughing. "Think of the back-hander behind his
hump!"
"And the riding off!" added Haines. "Who is
playing to-day, Bride?"
"Two mixed teams. They've got a native officer
on a rippin' good pony. There he goes !"
"Beautiful!" said Lady Stroud admiringly, as the
graceful rider cantered past. "Isn't that Mr. Yarrow
on the grey?"
"Yes; he and the Vanburens came down with me."
"I noticed that Mr. Yarrow had a bad cut over his
eye last polo day," said Lady Stroud, levelling her
glasses. "Was that from a fall ?"
132 EXILE
"I wasn't called in if it was! I can only refer you
to the R.A.M.C."
"I hardly liked to sympathise about it, because one
never knows what it comes from," said Lady Stroud
confidentially. "So many of them look as if they had
been in battle after St. Patrick's night! Not that Mr.
Yarrow is an Irishman, but it seems to me that the
younger men fight indiscriminately."
"It's human natur, p'r'aps if so,
Oh, isn't human natur' low!"
quoted Haines dryly. "Puppies are always worrying
each other helps 'em to cut their wisdom teeth!"
"Yes, only it seems so childish. If it were at Eton
now but I never ask questions."
"Lady Stroud, you're an angel of understanding.
Ah, they're off!"
The bell had rung a tiny cracked sound in the
vastness of the unwalled desert and the ball had
been thrown in. The chukker started somewhat
poorly, but the pace worked up under the stimulus
of the forward players. It was a fairly fast game,
for the beaten sand was hard and true. Barbara
leaned forward breathlessly, her soul dawning in her
eyes. Action was the medium through which she
expressed her personality rather than thought, and the
open air her element. She looked upon games as
sacred. Lady Stroud watched her rather curiously,
and watched Haines too. He could not keep his soul
out of his face, after the manner of most Englishmen;
it kept welling up in his eyes, and his eyes were gen-
erally resting on the girl.
"He will speak very soon" thought Lady Stroud.
EXILE 133
"He would speak this afternoon if he could get her
away from the rest of us; but I do not think there
is the least excuse for him to ask her to leave the
car!"
She looked round the empty world, and found
nothing in the wall-less desert, the ginger-beer bottles,
or the line of ponies to befriend a lover. Barbara
appeared absorbed in the game and unaware of Haines*
proximity, though he sat next her in rather touching
patience for her chance word or wish. It was Dr.
Bride who really addressed her with some amusement
at her absorption.
"You like polo, Miss Play fair?"
"I love it!" said the girl, turning a flushed face to
him. The wind had loosened her brown hair in spite
of the motor veil, and a lock was tossing to and fro
between her eyes and her hat brim. "I enjoyed going
to Hurlingham last season better than anything!"
"Better than dancing?"
"Yes, on the whole. I love dancing, of course,
but it is always in hot rooms, and there isn't enough
space at most people's houses, and you get sleepy
and tired. Hurlingham was just topping!" Her eyes
shone like lapis lazuli.
"If you were a man, would you play?" asked
Haines. He did not care for polo himself. He could
ride, but he had never found his hobby in physical
exercise.
"Wouldn't I!"
"I have seen ladies play, fairly well too," said Dr.
Bride. "We must get Miss Playfair a pony and rig
her up."
Lady Stroud intervened. It savoured too much
134 EXILE
of Barbara's pyjamas, and she somehow dreaded
some boyish reference. Barbara's long legs seemed
always walking her into danger. "The difficulty is
to get ponies in Exile," she said. "This hiring re-
mounts system of ours is borrowed from Aden, but
it seems to work pretty well. What do you pay a
chukker, Dr. Bride?"
"One rupee. I believe the Aden fellows pay more,
but I don't know. It's cheaper to pay for the Govern-
ment ponies than to keep your own in Exile, anyway."
"Would you like a gallop in the desert? We could
manage that one morning anyway," Haines was say-
ing to Barbara. She nodded and smiled, but still kept
her eyes on the game till the chukker ended. "I should
love it !" she said then with her usual frank emphasis.
It was so soft that it hardly sounded like emphasis
only a girl's enjoyment. "I am simply spoiling for
exercise; Aunt Fanny doesn't realise it, but we never
go out except in the motor. I haven't walked a yard
since I arrived."
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked quickly. "I
will get you a pony, or take you for walks. You need
only tell me what you want I am here to do it for
you. You know," he added with a half -ashamed
laugh, "I am in your uncle's place for the nonce, and
it is my duty to look after you !"
And Lady Stroud, watching them, said : "He will
speak to-night if he gets a chance or at latest to-
morrow. It cannot be fenced off much longer."
But as a matter of fact he did not speak until the
day before the Admiral's return, and then it was as
much chance as deliberate intention. He had been
waiting for it, of course, but he had meant to do th?
EXILE 135
decent thing and ask the Admiral's leave before he
said anything, as Barbara was so young and in the
Strouds' care. Rodney Haines was a gentleman; he
had no least intention of taking advantage or behaving
badly. Only, unfortunately, he was also a man.
There is no record that God created Adam gentle as
well as man, and his sons are apt to revert to the
original mould under stress of elementary emotion.
There were no guests dining at Government House
that evening, as it chanced. Lady Stroud and Barbara
had played bridge at the Club in the afternoon, and
had come back to dinner alone. Rodney Haines had
been hard worked all the afternoon, and could not
even get down to fetch them; he looked tired and his
eyes were unusually large and strained when he ap-
peared at dinner. Lady Stroud noticed it, and said
that they must all go to bed early, or the Admiral
would ask what on earth they had been doing when
he returned to-morrow.
"You know we have been out every night since
you came, or have had some one here, Barbara," she
said with unnecessary remorse. "You have never
been to bed before one, and you get up so early."
"Yes, I know, Aunt Fanny I've enjoyed it so
much!" said Barbara candidly.
"Well, Mr. Haines looks worn out!"
"I'm afraid that's me," said Barbara, ungrammat-
ically sympathetic. "I dragged him out at six this
morning and we walked quite a long way."
"It was the best thing you could do for me!" said
the Colonial Secretary. "We none of us walk enough
in Exile. I hope you mean to repeat the prescription
every day." He did not mind feeling tired while
136, EXILE
those kind young eyes rested on him with self-re-
proach. He would have walked all round the coast
of Exile, and across the tongue of desert, if he could
feel her swinging along beside him all alone in the
strange chill of the morning, with the great sombre
Rocks stabbing the folded grey of the sky. He remem-
bered the cold, sweet curve of her cheek as he fed
his hungry eyes on her profile, and the maddening
desire to take her hand in his and feel the warm pres-
ence of her as they walked so decorously side by side.
. . . "You must not take my morning walk from me !"
he pleaded.
But Barbara was rather concerned to see how hol-
low his eyes looked in the light of the new electric
lamps, and she noticed anew that his face was almost
too sharp-cut in its fine lines. Haines was of a clean,
wiry build, so spare that he never ranked with big
men, though he was above middle height, and the soul
in him seemed always burning out the body. People
sometimes discovered his position with a little shock;
he had the keenness but not the shut-door face of the
mathematician, and might have belonged to the
Church or to Science as well as to the Colonial Service.
To Barbara he was the most interesting man she had
ever met, because he was most interested in her. But
his air of overstrain and nervous exhaustion to-night
made him doubly attractive. If you want a girl of
nineteen to admire you, draw a few lines in your face
she will never look at you without.
"I shall entertain you and Aunt Fanny to-night,"
she said when they went out into the compound after
dinner. "I am going to work the gramophone. You
EXILE 137
are both to sit quite still and do nothing; this is my
show."
But she was very considerate. She laid aside the
"Nightcaps" record and "I'll butt in!" and she selected
public singers rendering "Ave Marias" and "Sere-
nades" and brass bands playing Wagner (with the
doors of the wooden case half closed). It was a little
throaty perhaps, as gramophones often are, but very
soothing; and it really did not matter because Lady
Stroud dozed and Haines was not listening he was
watching the arc of light enclosing the radiant white
figure and the glossy head as Barbara moved about
the table.
At half-past ten Lady Stroud said : "Now, Barbara,
that's enough we really must go!" and carried off
her niece with her, congratulating herself that the
danger was past for another day, and to-morrow the
Admiral would be home. Haines and Barbara shook
hands a longer clasp than was strictly necessary, but
then she was so sorry to see him look tired! and all
would have gone well if in her hurry the elder lady
had not swept the younger away before she had re-
trieved the little silken bag in which she carried her
handkerchief and a cigarette case that Haines had
given her of silver filigree work. After she had been
five minutes in her room Barbara discovered its loss,
not yet having taken off her gown. There were no
bells in Government House it being a bungalow peo-
ple called "Tala henna" and an Arab servant ran to
answer. The partitions of the rooms, indeed, did not
reach the ceilings, but allowed a draught of air to
circulate straight through. If Barbara called, Aunt
Fanny would be certain to hear, and would send her
138 EXILE
own ayah to see what was the matter, or come herself ;
and she was so tired, poor dear ! Perhaps the servants
had not yet put out the lamp, and she could run across
to the compound and get the bag and return and no
one be the wiser. Barbara opened her door softly,
saw that the lights were not all out even in the draw-
ing-room, and ran noiselessly between the pillars and
through the door in the trellis-work out into the open
air. . . .
The Colonial Secretary had not yet gone to bed.
He had told the Arabs to leave a light in the drawing-
room which Barbara had seen and was smoking a
last cigarette under the flashing night sky. The lamp
in the compound had been removed only the faint
radius of those in the drawing-room shone through
the open jalousies of the bungalow and the trellis-work
that shut in the compound; but the night was alight
with stars, and Haines was lying back in one of the
deep canvas chairs, his worn face uplifted to them.
Barbara did not see him at first as she came stealing
into the compound looking for her bag, but his head
turned quickly, and for a moment he hardly breathed
as the light-footed filmy white shape drew nearer to
him in its search. The outline of her figure looked
almost nebulous in the uncertain light, and her face
was bent down over the chairs until she reached the
very one in which he sat. Then she started and gave
a little cry, as one who meets with Fate advancing' to
meet her from what looked a friendly land.
"Barbara !" he said out of the darkness, and had no
need to raise his voice, she was so near. She stepped
back as he rose, almost as if to run, for she was not
ready for what she saw before her indeed she was
EXILE 139
not ready, and she felt the desperate awe of a young
votary before the very fire of the innermost shrine.
Haines was holding out his hands to her, trying to
draw her nearer and stammering in his earnestness.
She caught the words "Love"; "Wife"; "For ever"
symbols of mighty emotions untried by her and
laid her own trembling palms in those stretched to her
as if impelled by his desire.
"I don't know I think I do it is too soon!" she
gasped in answer to his appeal, and there was a cloud
of tears in her blue eyes. Then the next thing she
knew was that she was sitting in the canvas chair, and
he was kneeling beside her with his head down on her
knees, and she supposed she must have refused him.
His attitude was so dejected that it frightened her
she had not quite meant that perhaps, only it seemed
too solemn an undertaking voiced in that "For ever."
"Do you want me so much?" she said, and she laid
her long slim hands half shrinkingly on the shorn
brown head, afraid that this might be too much of a
caress, but more afraid to leave it bowed so low.
He raised his face, and it frightened her. It was so
seared and drawn. She had thought that love was a
charming thing, akin to flowers and laughter and sun-
shine at the best a little prosaic, with the humdrum
joys of bread and butter and good comradeship. But
this was a raging fire that she had lighted a convul-
sion of Nature, an ocean depth unplumbed.
"Only if I can make you love me," he said thickly.
The thrusting aside of a temptation to take her in the
face of God or devil was like a physical wrench, and
made him sway under the exertion of his own
strength. His lips twisted a little as if with agony,
140 EXILE
but his eyes tried to smile, and that was worse to see.
He would not have her on the devil's terms he would
not. Only if God set His seal on the compact with
love.
But she saw the tortured movement and flung her
arms round his shoulders, her white breast above him
like a bird's. "I will do anything!" she said eagerly.
"I only meant you mustn't think I don't! I am only
rather frightened."
In moments of extreme stress Barbara told the
exact truth. Always literal, she found less difficulty
than a more complicated nature in expressing exactly
what she felt, and in this case it was piteously and
ominously true. She was "only rather frightened."
But he caught at the divine possibility of her former
words and almost laughed, not knowing that his eyes
were wet.
"May I take that to mean that you do?" he said;
and then, "Barbara, darling, do kiss me!"
"That's a little thing, as I am going to be his wife!"
thought the girl, and the amazement of the position
she found herself in did away with the lesser embar-
rassment. She kissed him rather shyly with the cold
soft lips of a child, and then added hurriedly, "For
good-night !"
"But you will come for a walk early?" he pleaded,
holding her as she rose. She leaned a little away from
him, as if afraid of more endearments, but his very
touch wns reverent. She was the embodiment of a
granted prayer, and prayer is holy.
"Yes," she said, and did not know that she would
have said it with less reluctance if they had not just
become engaged.
EXILE 141
"Then good-night, dear heart, and sleep well!"
He kissed her again, very tenderly, but she did not
this time return it ; and then she crossed the bungalow
to her own room, a different person from the girl
who had gone out to find her silken bag.
"I left it there after all," thought Barbara, sitting
down on her bed with her hands in her lap and not
attempting to undress. A curious irritation for the
triviality of the cause that had brought this crisis
upon her possessed her mind and would not be shaken
off. Her last thought as she laid her head on the
pillow that night was not of Rodney Haines.
"I will have a pocket in my next gown, whatever
the dressmaker says!" she said. "It is nonsense, this
always leaving things about, and having to go and
look for them! So many things happen." . . .
CHAPTER VIII
"He played my beautiful soul with the earnest eyes,
My friend ! my soul, if the soul is the part that can rise
To the heights of God, as with wings to the greatest
sublimities.
His long, firm hands on the music lingered, and strayed,
Longingly, lovingly I (did he know I was by?)
I sat in the shade . . .
He played, my beautiful soul with the earnest eyes!"
THEO. MARZIALS.
LADY STROUD was aware that Barbara was tak-
ing morning walks with the Colonial Secretary
before breakfast, but though she trembled she had not
as yet raised an objection. Objections are apt to
precipitate matters, and she was not so afraid of the
influence of the morning as of the increasing heat of
the day. If any one had told Lady Stroud that she
regarded the tropics as a forcing-house for the emo-
tions she would have been shocked into denying it;
but as a matter of fact she was apt of her charity to
attribute many human backslidings to the brazen
encouragement of the sun.
"It's the climate, dear," was her invariable comment
to the Admiral if he were betrayed into repeating a
particularly racy gossip from the Club. "Poor things f
What can you expect when the sun shines all day and
every day? It is so hard to repent under a cloudless
sky! England is so rainy she obliges you to think
of tears."
142
EXILE 143
On the day of the Silverside's return she came in to
breakfast with a tranquil heart; but a glance at Bar-
bara and Rodney Haines destroyed her complaisance.
Barbara was crumbling bread into guilty mounds all
round her plate, and declined to look at anything but
the table-cloth, and Haines was shameless with happi-
ness and too uplifted to conceal it. Lady Stroud met
his eyes across the table, and thought that they had
never been so big and blue. They were rather sad eyes
as a rule, despite their eager vitality, as if they were
"Touched with the tragedy of Every Day."
But there was no mistaking their expression to the
mind of the Governor's wife. How they shone ! She
would like to have boxed his ears, if it could have been
done with dignity, while he sat opposite to her with
that happy, handsome face, and spoiled the fish-cakes
and curry for her.
"Detestable man!" she thought to herself. "Why
couldn't he have waited till Jonathan was back? I
suppose he proposed to her in the middle of a dirty
Arab street, or amongst the flabby vegetables in the
market. He is rather a dear, too! If I were his
mother, I should want to hug him when he looks at
her like that."
Then she glanced at the girl's downcast face, and a
premonition of dismay made her kindly heart sink.
"She can't have said 'No,' or he wouldn't look like
that," she thought. "But she is taking it very badly!
Is it a fit of shyness, or the discomfort of secrecy?"
At this point Barbara raised her eyes with perfect
composure. "We walked right out beyond Fort Bay,
and looked at the dockyard, Aunt Fanny," she said.
144 EXILE
"I did so wish we had had Mr. Hervey with us; there
are so many things I wanted to know. Do you think
he would let us motor him out one day?"
"And we saw three Arabs going down to bathe on
the way, and Miss Playfair was shocked," added
Haines with dancing eyes. "She wanted to run away
for fear they should undress. It never occurred to
her until too late that they had nothing on already.
It was like that delightful story of Andersen's 'The
Emperor's New Clothes' !"
"I was not at all shocked," said Barbara resentfully.
"I was afraid there might be sharks. Mr. Haines had
just told me it wasn't safe to bathe there."
"It isn't, for people as tempting as you !" said Haines
audaciously. "The sharks don't like the taste of Arabs,
they resemble black bread in flavour, and your Exile
shark is a very dainty eater. He would fast all Lent
for a chance of you at Easter, Miss Playfair!"
"I think you are very nasty!" said Barbara with a
little shiver. "I forgot to take my camera, Aunt
Fanny. Wasn't it stupid of me?"
"How did that happen?" asked Lady Stroud grimly.
"You have never forgotten it before!" (She could
quite account for it in her own mind. )
"Why, we left it on the table in the hall!" said
Haines innocently, as if that were sufficient explana-
tion ; nor did Lady Stroud's glance at him abash him
he only laughed.
"I should have some more curry if I were you, Mr.
Haines," she said unkindly. "You have a lot of
work before you when the Admiral arrives. I expect
you will be closeted together all day, and we shall see
nothing of you!"
EXILE 145
Was there or was there not a little relaxing of the
muscles of Barbara's face at the suggestion, a little
smile of possible relief in her eyes? "And he is going
to tell me immediately after breakfast, before I have
even digested mine !" thought Lady Stroud with an in-
ward groan. "He will simply bubble over with happi-
ness, and I shall not have the heart to cast one doubt
upon the suitability of the thing."
She felt it all the harder because she would herself
have said that it was so suitable but for that one
teasing detail of Barbara's manner. The man was
sure of a governorship on his next promotion, good-
looking, young for his age, after all, why should he
not be thirty-eight to her nineteen? well off, and of
good birth. Only the curve of a girl's lips, the vague
trouble of her eyes, the long white fingers crumbling
bread round her plate! Lady Stroud tried to remem-
ber the details of her own engagement to the Admiral,
but it was all lost in rosy light. "We were ridiculous
but we were so happy !" she said in reminiscence.
When Rodney Haines followed her across the draw-
ing-room, as she knew he would, she felt rather despair-
ingly that her hour was come, and without even a
pretence of beginning her correspondence at the writ-
ing-table she sat down on the sofa and waited. He
came straight to her side and stood looking down on
her with those shining eyes that had forewarned her
across the breakfast table.
"Lady Stroud, I've done something very wrong
something you won't approve of !" he said.
"I'm sorry for that, Mr. Haines!" she retorted a
little pointedly. "My husband being away, it "
"Yes, I know," he said penitently. "Of course, I
146 EXILE
didn't mean to do anything to vex you when I'm here
in charge; but last night "
"Last night!" said Lady Stroud in spite of herself.
"I thought it was this morning!"
He gave a little boyish laugh and sat down beside
her. "You know all about it, don't you?" he said coax-
ingly. "And I want you to forgive me before I throw
myself on the Admiral's mercy. If I have you on my
side it won't look so bad for me, will it ?"
"You know perfectly well that you are irresistible
when you coax like that," said Lady Stroud calmly,
"and you ought to be ashamed of yourself through-
out!" She held out her hand to him with a friendly,
motherly gesture, and he bent his head over it quickly.
"You won't be afraid to give her to me?" he said
impetuously. She tried to say something about Mrs.
Play fair, but he cut her short. "Barbara says her
mother will say whatever you and the Admiral say!
Oh, I know it's a very short acquaintance, but it
makes no difference, I should think the same a hundred
years hence."
The pathetic, crippled look was almost gone from
his face ; but somehow she knew it was there must be
there always somehow, shadowing him, and she
dreaded to bring it back. She liked the triumphant
manhood of him so much, it was all so satis factory-
save for that teasing detail of Barbara's face at break-
fast.
"Barbara is very young!" she faltered.
"But you won't let that stand against me!" he said
anxiously.
"My dear Mr. Haines" (she had almost said "boy"
to the Colonial Secretary, who was eight-and-thirty!),
EXILE 147
"there is nothing against you. Most chaperons would
welcome you with open arms, and I have no doubt that
Barbara's mother can be talked over; but I have to
think of the child too, you know. It is so dreadful
when a girl does not does not know her own mind !"
she hazarded.
The next instant she wished she had risked anything
rather than dim the eager brightness of his face. "She
is so young!" she repeated lamely.
"Perhaps I ought not to have spoken yet but I
couldn't help it. Are you vexed with me?"
"No; but I somehow wish you could have waited."
"I've been waiting all my life for this." He looked
up with deep pathetic eyes that made her shiver. "It
is so wonderful!" he said. But she wished, all the
more, that he had fallen in love with a woman rather
than a girl. In ten years' time Barbara might have
understood that look and met it with an equal tender-
ness.
"Don't be in a hurry," she found herself saying
almost urgently. "Give her time; she is so so inex-
perienced."
"Yes, I know," he assented readily, but he did not
know. "Oh, I will be good to her I will be very
good."
"Yes, I know you will only don't be too good.
Don't wrap her up in cotton-wool to shelter her from
every wind. Remember, she did not want to be shut
off on the roof in the Arab fashion!"
She dreaded a confidence from the girl even more
than from the man; but Barbara spared her that em-
barrassment. When she reappeared at luncheon time
she looked just as cool and matter-of-fact as usual, and
148 EXILE
she stooped her tall head for her aunt's kiss of silent
congratulation with unexpected composure.
"I suppose that Mr. Haines has told you, Aunt
Fanny," she said. "I hope you do not mind our steal-
ing a march on you. I think he meant to have asked
Uncle Jonathan's leave first."
"These things come on one rather suddenly, don't
they, Babs?" said Lady Stroud kindly. "I daresay
your uncle can be persuaded to forgive you so long
as you are happy !"
"Of course I am happy !" said Barbara with a little
laugh, opening her large eyes. She seemed to have got
over her gravity of the morning, and was quite ready
to respond to Haines' teasing and mischief through-
out the midday meal. After lunch they sat about and
talked in the cool of the hall waiting for the signal to
announce the Silverside's arrival, and nothing could
have been more natural and unembarrassed than their
manner to each other and to her ; yet Lady Stroud had
never felt more relieved to see the Admiral's fresh-
coloured face and curly grey head than she did when
he appeared at last, and she had a sense of shifting a
great responsibility when she got him alone and broke
the news to him first.
"Well," said the Admiral dryly, "it seems to me
you've been pretty busy for a week. Here's Bunney
just telephoned up that there's trouble down at the
dockyard, and Murgatroyd met me on the pier with
a longer face than usual and the information that poor
Lestoc has died in hospital, and now you tell me that
my Colonial Secretary is engaged to my niece !"
"Jonathan, you won't be hard on him, will you?"
said Lady Stroud anxiously. It was noticeable that she
EXILE 149
did not say "them." "The poor dear is so happy; I
don't think," added Lady Stroud, with a wrinkle in her
kind forehead, "that any one ought to be quite so
happy as that. It seems somehow like forestalling
Providence. What is the use of Heaven if there's noth-
ing fresh to look forward to ?"
The Admiral roared. "One might as well try the
other place, eh? Hope he won't get sent down for a
change while still on earth. Reaction is the devil's
balance weight. I say, Fanny, he's not going to gush
about Barbara, is he?" The Admiral looked really
alarmed.
"Don't be an owl !" said Lady Stroud. "He's thirty-
eight, and a C.M.G. It is only that he looks so dread-
fully radiant." And she sighed. "What is this dread-
ful news about poor Mr. Lestoc?"
"Too true, I'm afraid. That Arab prison finished
him before the doctors could get him out. Of course,
I can't say so to any one but you, Fan, but my Chief
Justice ought to be tried for manslaughter."
"I do so dislike Mr. Everard I always have ever
since we came. I am thankful that his worst convic-
tions took place while we were home on leave. Poor
Madame Lestoc ! and all those children. Oh, Jonathan,
it is disgraceful that any man can have the power to
abuse power as Edgar Everard has done! Surely we
ought to do something !"
"Oh, come now!" said the Admiral easily. "I do
think he is morally guilty of poor Lestoc's death, for he
knew the man could never stand the sentence. But
Everard is well within his rights, as far as we know.
He came and talked it over very sensibly with me from
the first said he knew he was damned unpopular, but
150 EXILE
what could he do? Yale had let things go a good deal,
and showed too much leniency to the traders, and there
was a good deal of discontent in consequence amongst
the Jews. Everard admitted he'd been a bit drastic,
but there was such open contempt of court "
"Yes, I know he talked you straight over to his
way of thinking!" said Lady Stroud shrewdly. "He
could talk Exile into the belief that it was a rose-
garden. But he won't talk Public Opinion over now
that Lestoc has died. Jonathan, I heard a rumour that
there's a Petition against him praying for an inquiry,
which has gone home."
"Well, if there is, my dear, the Colonial Office must
see to it. I am not responsible, thank the Lord ! We
had better not know anything about the Petition, offi-
cially."
"I wonder if Mr. Everard knows! I imagine not.
He is at Health still on sick leave, but there is another
case to come up next month that murder out at Ban-
ishment. He must come back then."
"Ah, that's a case for a jury, or, as we call it in
Exile, assessors; he can't do as he likes there."
"Yes, he can, if he can persuade the assessors that
it was not premeditation. Colonel Darner was explain-
ing it all to me the other night. And they say that
Everard is on the side of the prisoner because the
wretched man's sister is one of those women you
know."
"I say, Fanny, you have been listening to scandal!
Is Everard really at Health since you know so
much?"
"Yes, really at Health this time, though I don't be-
EXILE 151
lieve he is ill he is never ill! His wife is still here;
but I think she is going to join him for a change."
"What sort of change ? For her or for him ?"
"Who is talking scandal now? I meant for her.
Not that she looks to want it any more than he; Mrs.
Everard always looks the same. She was dining at
the Club the other night with the Vanburens, perfectly
beautiful and perfectly indifferent. I sometimes won-
der whether any woman knows anything at all about
her own husband !"
"Good Lord!" said the Admiral, and put his helm
down hard a-port to avoid a dangerous course. "Her-
vey said Haines was booked to dine with him to-night,"
he remarked, reversing the engines of the conversation.
"I suppose he won't go now, eh ?"
"I think he will. He has been with Barbara all day,
so he really has no excuse to refuse. And men always
keep their engagements with Mr. Hervey."
She was quite correct in her forecast, and the
Colonial Secretary motored out to the bungalow in the
desert that night, to arrive five minutes before his host.
Hervey had been in unofficial consultation with the
dockyard engineers over the discovery of a fresh water
spring in the bottom of one of the docks, and had after-
wards gone out to Reserve to look into arrears of
business. He apologised for keeping his guest waiting
while he dressed, but turned him over to the piano ; and
five minutes later, while he changed into conventional
evening clothes, he heard the echoing house full of
melody, and smiled to himself over the folding of his
cummerbund.
"There's Tschaikowsky's 'Visions'! I knew that
152 EXILE
long-limbed girl was going to put the right stuff into
his music," he said. "Now I shall have to listen while
he tells me that she has blue eyes and a pink skin
as if I hadn't ordinary eyesight ! I'll forgive him if he
plays like that afterwards, though."
His strong mouth relaxed, and he stood for a mo-
ment listening. Haines was running his hands over
the keys as if he loved them he played the piano less
perfectly, but no less sympathetically, than the violin
and drawing the sweetness out of the deep changing
melody. He was still playing when Hervey came
downstairs and the gong interrupted.
"Come and eat iced melon there's a boat in from
Aden," said the engineer, dropping his heavy hand on
the younger man's slighter shoulder. There were only
two years between them, but at the moment they might
almost have been father and son. "My dear fellow,
you've got it badly, haven't you?"
Haines laughed he could afford to. "First time
out, you see," he said. "You try it !"
"No, thanks!" Hervey shrugged his broad shoul-
ders. "I am still too much interested in my own future.
There is no doubt but that love is a handicap. The
minute you care for anything or anybody you slip the
handcuffs on your own wrists. It is only those who
care for nothing but themselves who are free agents."
He sat down opposite his guest and took up a letter
lying by his own plate. "When did this come?" he
asked the butler in a different tone. The good-
humoured cynicism was gone. His lips closed again
more firmly, and his level eyes held nothing but their
own secrets.
EXILE 153
"To-day, sahib !" was the oracular answer.
It was from Mrs. Everard. Hervey played with it
in his fingers for a minute without opening it, with a
curious excitement in his blood. He expected a delib-
erately worded denunciation of himself and his insolent
proposal, and rather gloated over it beforehand. He
was feeling very virile, very full of vitality, from the
cruise, and he longed to use his strength and to fight
somebody or something. A physical quarrel being im-
possible, this woman should prove a mental foeman
worthy of his steel. He could imagine the outspoken
condemnation of her words before he read them, for
she would not mince matters she would thrust true
and straight. He longed to hurt somebody in his turn,
though he had not settled his plan of campaign as yet.
"Don't mind me, old chap read your chit!" said
Haines easily. Love had not impaired his appetite. He
was enjoying the iced melon as a lesser nature could
not enjoy, for it is only fair that immense capacity for
suffering should be counterbalanced by a frenzy of en-
joyment, even in trivial things.
"I have just got some white wine over from France.
It travels deuced badly, but try it. Othman, give Mr.
Haines some sauterne!" Hervey broke the envelope
of the letter as the golden wine rippled into the glasses,
and read it at a glance.
"DEAR MR. HERVEY,
"I am driving out as far as Half-Way House to-morrow,
to meet my husband, whom I am expecting to arrive either
that night or next morning. I am putting up at Half-Way
House, and should be grateful to you if you would see that
the place is not quite uninhabitable. Lady Stroud told me
that last time they were out it was falling into disrepair.
154 EXILE
I shall of course bring my own servant, who will buy food
in the village.
"With apologies for troubling you,
"Yours sincerely,
"CLAUDIA EVERARD."
Hervey folded the letter, slipped it into the envelope,
and put it in his pocket. It was still anybody's game ;
she had not accepted his conditions he had known that
she would not do so but she was temporising. Per-
haps she was obeying the letter of his plan to make a
last appeal to him ; or perhaps she wished to speak her
contempt rather than write it. He hoped it would be
the latter. It gave him more scope. Anyhow, he was
glad that the battle should be prolonged, that she had
not been strong enough to say the "No" she meant.
The blood leapt in his veins again with the longing to
fight. He looked across the table at Haines with a
smile, and there was exultation of a sort in his own
face.
"Well," he said, "and when are you to be married ?"
"Oh, within six months, I hope!" said the Colonial
Secretary. "The Admiral was awfully good; so was
Lady Stroud. They will help to tackle Barbara's peo-
ple. I hate long engagements!"
"I thought this was the first time out?" said Hervey,
and both men laughed. "How many long engagements
have you weathered?"
"None, thank God !" He drew a quick breath, and
his face flushed a little. "When you have reached my
age you feel you want as much as you can have to
offer a girl. I'm glad the slate is a clean one fairly
clean," he added in a lower tone, twisting the stem of
his wineglass in his fingers. No man would have had
EXILE 155
the humility or honesty to add that rider who was not
in love. Before he meets with the refiner's fire it seems
to him that a sponge dipped in the waters of oblivion
will make any slate clean enough. To Hervey the
scruple was absurd.
"What will you do? Settle down at home?" he
asked. "For Heaven's sake, Haines, don't raise Here-
fords or collect teaspoons ! Marriage is too often the
front door to a hobby, and a man with a hobby is worse
than a man with a grievance."
"No, I shan't leave the Service now," said Haines
simply. "I did mean to; there seemed nothing much
in it except undoing what tfie last man did and cutting
down the expenditure. Heavens ! we have never done
trying to reduce the Imperial Deficit Loan in the
Colonies! Some Governors save on the salaries of
their officials, and some on the agricultural grants, but
to be a success in the Service you must be a financier.
I hate cheese-paring. I thought this would be about
my last job."
Hervey's face darkened from its suppressed excite-
ment. "Yes, Exile sees the last of a good many of
us," he said. "My job's done too. I'm only fooling
about, cooling my heels."
"We can't imagine Exile without you, Hervey. It's
almost traditional." The younger man looked up, al-
most startled out of his own self-interest.
"Yes, and tradition is the most deadly of hindrances.
I ought to have got out of it five years ago either to
look for a new job or to retire to the other side of the
world with a fresh environment." He was restlessly
conscious as he spoke of the truth of his own words.
As long as the work was there to do he had done it, and
156 EXILE
had not had time for the baser amusements that had
ended in tempting silly women beyond their strength,
or outwitting weaker men. He had begun it in reaction
after the strenuousness of his work in Exile, and had
said it was good to take a holiday and play awhile.
But where had it led him? To such vapid affairs as
Mrs. Bride's, or the trapping of vermin like Everard !
He, who knew himself a giant, had sat down to play at
spillikins with dwarfs.
"When you've got some one to fight for it seems
worth while," said Haines thoughtfully. "I want to
get up top now, just for Barbara I want to give her
something worth having, <I want to give her every-
thing!" he said, and then laughed at himself shame-
facedly.
"I said you were in for it!" said Hervey good-
naturedly. And then a thought struck him and roused
a new interest. He had always imagined that Mrs.
Everard had had a deeper liking for Rodney Haines
than for other men one could hardly say more with
such a self -concealed nature and perhaps it was the
shock of Haines' engagement that had driven her into
temporising with an insult. Perhaps she cared so little
for herself now that she would even go so far as to
seem compliant, turning the occasion finally to a chance
to plead in her husband's interest. He had forgotten
Rodney Haines and his probable influence in her life.
It might be that that had outweighed the impulse to
strike him, figuratively at least, across the mouth ; but
he never doubted the impulse.
"Is she suffering?" he wondered with a curious
cruelty of interest. "It will be worth while seeing how
EXILE 157
it affects her. There should be something that will
betray her, however great her control."
Rodney Haines had brought the violin by request.
Hervey would almost have sent him home again had
he come without his fiddle, and he knew it and appre-
ciated the appreciation. There was no one to share
the musical evening, but the two men played on for
each other for an hour or so after dinner, Hervey at
the piano and Haines with his own instrument. Haines
usually preferred French music, and interpreted it as
he did no other nation's Berlioz (he played the
"Dance of the Sylphs" so that his hearers only vaguely
regretted an orchestra), Chopin, Saint-Saens, Ropartz,
and, before all, Gounod, whom he taught men not to
despise. Gounod is only to be properly heard through
the human voice or a violin. When it comes to or-
chestral effects he may be a composer, but he is no
longer a genius. Haines took his melodies and made
them living things. But to-night he chose Tschaikow-
sky rather than the Frenchman, and played the
"Visions" all over again for Hervey's benefit, until the
older man could have wept for his lost youth and the
spirit of romance that lies just beyond the horizon of
all lives. Haines had never played so before, but he
could never again lose what he had gained because a
soul had been born into his music.
"This," said Hervey when he was leaving, "has been
a great night." And then his thought ran on, and he
wondered what different sort of evening he should
spend to-morrow. Discord for the harmony, enmity
of a woman instead of friendship with a man. "Give
me my own sex for company!" he said out of the
knowledge behind him.
158 EXILE
Haines looked round the great echoing rooms affec-
tionately. They were excellent for sound, being bereft
of carpets and draperies. And because Hervey had a
garden there was not that lack of flowers that made
the Fort barren.
"I say, Hervey," said the Colonial Secretary, with
a half apologetic smile, "there's a thing you could do
for me if you don't mind. Can you spare some jessa-
mine? I think Barbara would like some."
The jessamine that grows in Exile or rather in the
desert, for nothing will grow on the Rocks is a larger
variety than the one at home. The flowers are thick
clustered, strong-scented, and tropically luxuriant, for
there are wells at Golgotha, and, though they are brack-
ish, certain things will grow. Hervey rang a bell and
told his butler to get Mr. Haines a big bunch of flowers
and put it in the car that was waiting for him "Any-
thing you can cut," he said laconically.
"Thanks awfully !" said Haines, with an earnestness
of gratitude that made his host smile a little dryly.
"There are so few things one can give a girl, out here !
Somehow one does miss being able to take her a few
flowers or sweets!"
"Send home to Charbonnel's. She needn't wait till
you get to England to make herself sick. I suppose
you would be ordering a florist's shop every day at
home, but we'll do our best for you."
He had never thought of giving Mrs. Bride or any
other passing love so ephemeral a thing as the flowers
from his garden. He had generally placed his cars at
their disposal for the time being, and had made sub-
stantial purchases of silks or feathers in the Arab
shops. In one case he had written a cheque for some
EXILE 159
bridge debts. Women preferred solid benefits, in his
experience; but the cases were widely different. He
wondered if he should ever be such a fool as to cut
goldmore blossoms and jessamine and Japanese lilies
for a woman, and what she would say if he did! It
was improbable, anyway. He was not a sentimental
person.
But Rodney Haines drove home across the desert
with a great bunch of sweetness making the night
odorous, and when he presented himself at Govern-
ment House the next afternoon (he resisted going in
the morning) he brought Barbara the scarce flowers
that only Hervey could grow in any profusion. She
thanked him very sweetly, but, the rest of the house
party being present, there could be no demonstration.
"That's a good-sized posy for Exile!" said the Ad-
miral, looking with kindly criticism at the tall white
girl standing by the teatray with her hands full of
flowers. "Rather suggestive of a bride, eh, Babs ?"
The girl flushed quickly, and made a movement al-
most as if she would put her flowers down. One of the
goldmore blossoms broke and fell, not, appropriately,
at Haines' feet, but, as it chanced, at Merryn's. The
Flag-Lieutenant was waiting as usual for a chance of
usefulness, and was ready to hand cups in silence. He
was not a talkative young man.
"You have presented Mr. Merryn with a button-
hole!" said Lady Stroud kindly, coming to the rescue
of Barbara's hot cheeks. The girl looked almost dis-
tressed Jonathan ought not to tease young people!
"Put it in your coat, and go and call on all the smart
ladies of the garrison, Mr. Merryn! What are you
doing this afternoon?"
160 EXILE
"I was going to play polo, Lady Stroud."
"There won't be much goldmore blossom left when
you've finished!" said the Admiral with a chuckle.
"Bride tells me that there was a scrum one week, and
the R.A.M.C. had to bind up broken brows !"
"Perhaps that accounts for Mr. Yarrow's!" said
Lady Stroud with obvious relief. She was so chari-
table that even a small doubt was abhorrent to her. "I
was really quite afraid he had been fighting. I believe
I told Dr. Bride so."
"Then that accounts for Bride's information to
me!" said the Admiral, the chuckle growing into a
great laugh. "He calculated on it reaching you and
affording a kind delusion. He's a good little fellow
is Bride."
"Yarrow's scar is now becoming an asset," said
Haines, with his eyes dancing. "He was at the Club
dance a night or so ago, and he was trying to impress
on Mrs. Vanburen that it was a birthmark and much
cherished in his family. I thought that showed in-
genuity."
"Yes," chimed in Mr. Smyth, the secretary; "he
said that an ancestor gained it in the Crusades from a
blow by a mailed fist, and it has reappeared at every
third generation since ! The Vanburens being Ameri-
cans, he hoped to impress them."
There was a laugh, which did not somehow include
Barbara or Merryn. The Flag-Lieutenant had not
picked up the goldmore blossom which still lay at his
feet; he fidgeted restlessly, and his good-looking face
was unusually embarrassed. As a rule there was noth-
ing to read in Mr. Merryn's smooth burnt face but a
healthy love of the open air. His eyes were blue, but
EXILE 161
not in the least like the blue of Barbara's or of Rodney
Haines'. There are as many variations of colour as of
harmonies. He was clean-shaven, being a gunnery
man, and his lips were rather full and firm. If his face
ever became animated it was usually at a mention of
sport; but on the present occasion he was displaying
an animated discomfort, had any one chanced to notice
it. He glanced at Barbara, but she was looking down
at her flowers, and there was nothing in the soft seri-
ousness of her face to deny or encourage. At last he
stooped suddenly, under cover of the laugh at Mr.
Yarrow's expense, and picked up the goldmore blos-
som, in his hand. He was still carrying it when he
made his excuses and went out to find his waiting pony
in the compound, but it was not in his coat as he rode
down the sandy slopes to polo.
It is possible that Mr. Merryn's thoughts ran on the
untowardness of Fate that sent one girl into a colony
teeming with young men and then bestowed her on an
official of eight and thirty, who might be supposed to
be happy enough in a respected record and good pros-
pects. There was really nothing left for the young
men to do except devote themselves to the married
ladies of the Fort, and this was productive of scandal
at the Club. Mr. Merryn may have felt inclined to
reproach Fate with the just plea that one girl was not
enough to go round. But ( it is much more probable
that he told himself that Exile was a beast of a hole
because there was nothing to shoot and still less to hunt,
and the soldier men had all the luck. There is m.
naval station at Somaliland, for instance, and even tf
you do go to China it is getting harder and harder tfc
obtain sufficient leave for a good shoot. Anyhow, he
162 EXILE
did the best he could with the resources at his com-
mand and played polo ; and being No. 2 made a notably
fine shot on the near side that sent the ball slick through
the other fellows' goal. It ought to have contented
him, but so cross-grained is human nature that I am
afraid he wondered if Haines had motored out to Fort
Bay with his fiancee, and wished he could see the great
breakers rolling in from Banishment just as Barbara,
looking out over the blue waters, wished that she were
playing polo !
CHAPTER IX
"Not with my soul, Level bid no soul like mine
Lap thee around nor leave the poor sense room!
Soul travel-worn, toil-weary would confine
Along with soul, soul's gains from glow and gloom,
Captures from soarings high and divings deep.
Spoil-laden soul, how should such memories sleep?
Take sense, too let me love entire and whole
Not with my soul !"
ROBERT BROWNING.
AT the Club next day they were discussing the
Petition which must by now have reached Eng-
land, and the chances of the Colonial Office giving a
satisfactory reply. Though the Petition had been
signed by no one officially connected with Exile it had
been privately known and approved by most of the men
present, who had backed the foreign consuls and the
European traders with sympathetic support. In the
strong feeling that existed against Everard they would
have helped the scheme financially had it gone to the
High Court, and in the dearth of interests in Exile it
formed an engrossing topic of conversation and specu-
lation. The cables, printed on flimsy paper and posted
in the reading-room of the Club, announced the arrival
of the mail by which the Petition had gone home with
a broken propeller, and a little knot of men were clus-
tered round them, reading over each other's shoulders.
"Glad she didn't go to the bottom, or it would have
163
1 64 EXILE
all been to do over again," said Yarrow, with a fine
disregard for the fate of the passengers and crew as
compared with the mails. "As it is she's three days
late."
"It would have been done again, anyhow," said Dr.
Bride doggedly. "If I had to give up leave and walk
round Exile to beat up signatures, I'd have got that
thing through."
"PoorLestoc!"
"Poor Everard before Exile has done with him!"
said Yarrow grimly. "I wonder what the sentence
would be for telling him once what we thought of him,
before it's all over!"
"Eighteen months," said Vanburen, the American
consul, cynically. "No one is going to get two years
and a chance of appeal in Everard's hands ! Is he still
located at Health, by the way ? Here, Hervey, come
and look at the cables." The Government engineer had
just entered the writing-room and strolled over to join
the group. "Have you heard if Everard has returned
from Health?" said Vanburen in a lower tone.
"I think not; but there is some talk of his coming,"
said Hervey, reading over the other men's shoulders
from his greater height. He smiled a little, as if in
some amused reminiscence. "The Chief Justice finds
that the air of Health suits him better than even Ban-
ishment at present." What he was really thinking of
was that ambiguous clause in Mrs. Everard's letter
"I am expecting my husband, either to-morrow or next
day" and he wondered whether there might be a
grain of truth in it, though the idea had been prompted
by himself.
"There's this case of the Haroun Ali crime coming
EXILE 165
on in a few weeks," said Smyth, the Admiral's secre-
tary, looking at the older man for an opinion. "Will
he dare to get the murderer off, do you think?"
"There is very little he has not dared at present!"
said Hervey, with a faint wonder that was almost ad-
miration in his tone. "Why should he not get the man
off? A little mercy would be a change, and sound well
when he comes to explain himself."
"There won't be much explanation of Lestoc. Did
you see him before he died, Doctor?"
"Yes, poor fellow !" said Bride, his face falling from
its usual cheerfulness. "He asked me to get up a sub-
scription for his wife and children. The business is
ruined, you know."
Several hands went instinctively into several pockets,
and the men's faces would not have made a pleasant
group of jurors had Everard himself been on his trial.
"And he used to be one of the few decent business
men here," burst out Yarrow. "Oh, it's damnable!"
"Put me down for a pony, Bride," said the Colonial
Treasurer, who was standing by. "The British ought
to bear the brunt of their own cursed system. That
one of our judges should have given such a rotten
show that's the thing I can't swallow."
"Switzerland ought to go to war about it," said
Yarrow hotly. "He was her consul we would if
they'd treated our man like that."
"Oh, shut up, Yarrow you're always going to war
about something. Didn't you have enough of it with (
the Germans? Hervey, what's your opinion? Will
the Colonial Office take the matter up on our Petition ?"
"They are bound to," said Hervey quietly. "There
may be some jibing, but it's only a matter of time."
1 66 EXILE
It was his firm conviction, and had been all along,
when the Petition was first mooted. A Petition as
representative as the one that had gone home, backed
by certain evidence that had accumulated since Ever-
ard's first sweeping sentences, was not a thing that
even the British Government could put aside. The
charges were grave and demanded an inquiry. He
marvelled that Everard, astute as he had shown him-
self, had not foreseen this ; but the man seemed to have
lost his head a little latterly and become drunk with
power. Secure in the legal knowledge that no action
could lie against him, he could discountenance an in-
quiry, which after all must take some time, even if he
had heard of the Petition, which it was probable that
he had not, as it was carefully engineered and restricted
to influential names. The one thing that had shaken
his nerve and filled him with craven terror was the
consequence of Hervey publishing the contents of his
own unguarded letter. That frank confession of ras-
cality, once knpwn in the bazaars, might have endan-
gered his personal safety, and Everard, who had no
moral fear, was the most utter physical coward. He
knew himself unpopular with the Arab population,
partly from his favouritism of the Jews and partly
from having interfered with their women. His house
at Banishment was becoming notorious not only for
the unmarried girls he had bought for the lower class
Arab in Exile thinks but little of his daughter's virtue
but for unfaithful wives who were suspected of hav-
ing been there. No charge so serious to an Arab had
ever been proved, or even his position as a Government
official might not have saved Edgar Everard; but he
alone knew how narrow the escape had been, and, once
EXILE 167
give the people the incentive of knowing that the Chief
Justice had not the moral support of the English, there
was more than a probability that they would take the
law into their own hands. Hervey knew this, because
he knew Exile and its population as no Governor had
ever known it in his brief tenure of office ; but Everard
knew it too, with his coward's instinct, and it had
paralysed him. His blunder about Hervey and the firm
of Moses, Kalif & Co. had been partly the result of
Arab treachery, for he had been intentionally misin-
formed through his women.
Hervey did not play bridge that afternoon, he waited
until the Admiral put in an appearance to have a chat
with him about the trouble at the dockyard from the
fresh-water spring; for the Admiral liked to be con-
sulted though he was extremely impracticable in his
views, and drove the engineering staff nearly wild with
a desire to rival Malta, regardless of geographical in-
equalities. Hervey did not mind, and while the Ad-
miral was lured into stating his opinions and having
them tenderly exposed in their foolishness, he did not
know that he was being humoured like a child. He
went off to play auction at six o'clock, with the firm
conviction that he had converted Hervey to improve-
ments which the engineer had just put into his head,
leaving Hervey to make his way leisurely out of the
Club and to his own car. He met Rodney Haines and
his fiancee coming in, Barbara with some of his own
flowers in the breast of her white gown.
"Come back and have a chat," said Haines cordially.
"Barbara and I have tramped out to Fort Bay and
back, and came on to look after Lady Stroud."
"She hasn't arrived yet. Where's Merryn?"
168 EXILE
"Playing polo," said Barbara without waiting for
Haines to answer. "Do come back, Mr. Hervey !"
"I can't, thanks, Miss Playfair. I have an engage-
ment."
For one fantastic moment he wondered what she
would say if she knew the purport of that engagement,
and that Mrs. Everard was coming out to the bungalow
in the desert. But her large, clear eyes were so empty
of all meaning in life save visible things that he was
spared a sense of shame, even in the speculation. She
simply would not understand, or if she understood she
would not credit it.
He turned away and got into his car in the driver's
seat as usual. But he did not drive as fast as usual
to-night, and his hard face was harder than ever
against the flaming sunset behind Banishment islet.
Perhaps even he was slow to meet the cruelty that he
had designed, though his bitter purpose never faltered.
When he reached his own gates he drew up at Hassan's
house instead of turning in and got out of the car.
"You can take her round to the garage," he said to
the Arab chauffeur. "I am going in here for a
minute."
His inspection of the house and interviewing of the
caretakers did not take him long. It was nothing but
a farce he knew that without prearrangement it would
be almost impossible for any lady to sleep there. Then
he walked over to his own bungalow.
"Mrs. Everard has written me that she is coming out
on her way to meet the Chief Justice," he told his but-
ler. "She meant to put up at Hassan's, but it is quite
impossible. I have been over there, and the house is
unprepared. They must come here of course. She
EXILE 169
does not know if Mr. Everard will arrive to-night or
to-morrow, but you had better prepare the big room
for them the one next to mine."
"Yes, sahib."
The order had been given in Arabic, and Othman
withdrew to see that the great chamber was ready.
The appearance of two guests at a moment's notice was
no unusual thing at Hervey's bungalow, and did not
inconvenience the cook. Hervey did not even trouble
to give extra orders about dinner or to superintend the
table. Othman knew his work. There would be plenty
of flowers, in spite of the generous bunch that had been
cut for Mr. Haines last night.
The master of the house heard the roll of Mrs.
Everard's car as he was looking over the afternoon's
chits, brought out by special messenger. It stopped
in the road outside, at Half-way House; but he had left
a message there, and he knew what would follow.
Each move of the game they were playing had been
carefully prepared, and he wondered whether she
would show any perturbation, whether she would fol-
low his lead ill or well. When she appeared a few
minutes later in her long motor coat, however, the veil
to save her from dust and desert sand was still wound
over her head and face, and served as an effective
screen.
"I understand that you are kind enough to invite
me to dinner," she said with perfect composure as they
shook hands. Her voice, coming from under those soft
grey folds, told him nothing save that she was a little
weary. "It is very good of you."
"More than that, I am afraid that you must let me
put you up," he said courteously. "I went over to
170 EXILE
Hassan's, but they were totally unprepared, and it
would be quite impossible for you to stay there."
"I am afraid I gave you very short notice," she
agreed quietly.
"My servant will show you your room and take your
luggage up," he said. "If there is anything you want,
will you tell him?"
"I think I should like a bath !" said Mrs. Everard,
with such extreme nonchalance that for a moment he
was nonplussed. Had this woman no nerves to shake
her, magnificent control? "The journey across the
desert is a little trying. I feel as if the sand had pene-
trated my clothes."
"Certainly!" said Hervey, recovering himself. "I
am so used to it I hardly notice it now, but to a lady it
must be a trial. Have you a servant with you?"
"My ayah. I suppose she can sleep in the servants'
quarters ?"
"Of course. Take al Siyyidha to her room, Othman,
and see that the ayah prepares a bath."
Mrs. Everard turned to follow the Arab up the single
flight of stairs to the rooms above, but as she did so
Hervey deliberately crossed the room to her side.
"Do you expect the Chief Justice to-night, or to-
morrow?" he said.
Mrs. Everard paused in her turn. "I am afraid he
will not arrive in time for dinner," she said. "If he is
not here by ten o'clock I am not to expect him until
to-morrow."
"Very well."
He moved aside to let her pass, which she did with-
out another glance in his direction. Hervey stood at
the foot of the stairs a moment, watching her as she
EXILE 171
ascended with an inscrutable face. She was a very
graceful woman, and her grey draperies clung round
her like some grey cloud. He saw the last fold of
them disappear on to the floor above, and then he
laughed a little, shortly, and there was a racing element
of excitement in it.
When the gong went at half-past eight he was
already in the dining-room awaiting his guest. The
rooms led out of each other in the fashion of Exile
houses, so that there was small reason for remaining in
the outer room before dinner. Hervey looked impres-
sive in evening dress ; his shoulders were so very broad
under the white dinner jacket, and his height made it
impossible for the rooms to dwarf him despite their
vastness. On the square grey head the thick hair
looked like burnished silver, and his face kept its own
secrets. There was nothing to say of him but that he
was a strong man, the strength might be qualified
with cruelty, or hardness, or strict justice, but the
bed-rock of his nature was strength.
The gong had hardly ceased reverberating before
Mrs. Everard's footfall sounded on the uncarpeted
stair, and then she was coming across the library, and a
moment later she appeared. Hervey had never seen her
so perfectly beautiful or so composed. Sometimes in
looking at her face he had been surprised by a sus-
picion of pain in the wide brows or curved red mouth,
but to-night there was nothing but a great tranquillity
as if she were supremely at her ease. He had wondered
idly if she would wear the same dark dress as at their
last interview, but her dinner gown was white with
long transparent sleeves to the wrist, and only open
sufficiently to show the curve of her throat and neck.
172 EXILE
He liked the way she had wound her dull gold hair
round her head, leaving a clean outline, and the absence
of any ornament or jewellery about her. Her skin was
really flawless, and how crimson her mouth looked by
contrast! That curve of her short upper lip was her
greatest charm, perhaps, if one excepted the curious
eyes with their winy colour beneath the smudged
lashes.
"What satisfactory rooms you have here !" said Mrs.
Everard as she took the seat opposite her host. "I had
forgotten the house ; I have been here so little."
"You do not favour me very often," said Hervey,
his level eyes resting on her across the clusters of flow-
ers which filled the centre of the table in honour of al
Siyyidha. He found her a goodly picture, no more.
Indeed, her composure angered him as always.
"I do not remember that you have asked me," said
Mrs. Everard quietly, with a truthfulness that was
more effective than excuse.
"You were not at the Club to-day," he said, to
change the subject. He could not very well admit that
he never asked a woman whom he found dull. Mrs.
Everard was not dull at the present moment, to his
mind, but she was still baffling.
"No," she said. "I was just going down when Mrs.
Vanburen called on me with a subscription list. Do
you know Mrs. Vanburen ?"
"In connection with a subscription list I do," he said.
"She is so charitable that she overreaches herself."
"I imagine that they have not much means, and her
natural generosity takes the form of a subscription
list."
"Oh, I grant you her virtues. But she is so anxious
EXILE 173
to have money to give away that she would almost col-
lect it from the people to whom she wishes to give it.
What was her object this time?"
"I have not the faintest idea. I do not think I lis-
tened. I only know that I subscribed seventy-five
rupees !"
They both laughed a little, but the situation struck
Hervey with a sense of unreality, like a scene in a play.
The flower-laden table, better appointed than any in
Fort Exile, except Government House, his "bare-footed
servants moving to and fro with the tempting dishes
(it was an excellent dinner), the beautiful woman fac-
ing him with her soft, unruffled face, made a charming
sensuous picture in which tragedy and insult and re-
venge had no place. And yet he felt that he and
Claudia Everard were far more a part of the tragedy
than of these outward semblances. And he wondered
how soon the tragedy would begin at what point in
the game the courtesies would stop, and she would rise,
outraged, to denounce him. It was impossible before
the servants. Perhaps she would wait till they were
gone. In his character of host he fulfilled his part per-
fectly in the meanwhile.
"I hope you will drink some wine," he said. "I
notice that very few ladies take wine in Exile, but after
your drive out I am sure you are tired."
"It is too hot to drink wine in Exile as a general
rule," she answered. "But I think I should be glad of
some to-night."
"Champagne?"
"I should prefer it."
He had ordered it beforehand, and had it put on the
ice that came out from the ice factory at Reserve. The
174 EXILE
golden wine frothed in the cut glasses like blood in the
veins of a god, and she sipped it as if she enjoyed it,
without affectation or any demur. Suddenly she leant
across the table towards him, the glass in her hand.
"Will you please wish me happiness?" she said.
If the Sphinx had awakened from its long silence
and propounded another riddle he could not have been
more mystified. But there was no betrayal in his face
as he bowed to her, and stretching out his hand clashed
his glass lightly against hers.
"I hope you have not kept the whole of your good
fortune to yourself," he said. "Surely you will wish
it back to me !"
"Everything you most desire," she said with the
same serenity. "I never knew a better phrase than that
old Biblical beatitude, 'Grant thee thy heart's desire,
and fulfil all thy wishes !' "
"The difficulty with most people is to know their
heart's desire," he said with a slight shrug. "So many
of us drop the first treasure clutching at the second."
"And lose both?" she said. "I am a very single-
minded person. I have never hesitated over my heart's
desire."
Was she thinking of that letter, fast locked in his
safe upstairs? Did she think there were more ways
than one of obtaining it? He wondered how such a
woman would hold a revolver, and whether those white
hands would falter with death in their grip! He
thought not. ' There was a certain cold suspicion in
his face turned towards her now. He began to realise
that, despite her calm, her eyes had never once met his.
She had kept them indifferently on her plate, on the
menu, on the room, anywhere but on him, as if she
EXILE 175
knew they might betray her. Even now she was look-
ing at the flowers with a little softening of her perfect
face into most tender beauty.
"One needs to live in Exile to appreciate jessamine
and lilies," she said.
"Haines carried some off last night to give to Miss
Play fair," he said deliberately; but his cold grey eyes
lightened. Here, if anywhere, was the vulnerable spot
in her armour. He watched her covertly to see if that
reference at least would not touch her.
She did not, apparently, wince. A sudden silence
seemed to fall upon her, and wrap her in a deeper mys-
tery. Her eyes, beneath those thick lashes of hers,
seemed to muse upon the flowers; but still she never
raised them.
"Haines is so hopelessly in love that he could hardly
see the object of his affections," he went on harshly.
"The girl would probably have preferred a jack-in-the-
box or a peg-top, anything she could have played
with. Who wants to sit down and contemplate a lily
until it withers? Certainly not Miss Playfair!"
"But peg-tops and jack-in-the-boxes are not obtain-
able in Exile," said Claudia Everard with gentle irony.
"He might perhaps have found a Japanese toy in the
bazaars, if you think it would have pleased her better."
"He wasn't thinking of what would please her he
was pleasing himself with his conception of her. Peo-
ple who fall in love generally do so with their own
ideal, not with the honest reality."
. There was another painful pause. He felt the pain
of it through her silence, and wondered whether Haines
himself had guessed !
"Is that your idea of falling in love?" she said at
176 EXILE
last with a fine little smile. "It is not mine. The ideal
becomes the reality, just as the reality merges into the
ideal. Love is a touchstone that goes beyond impres-
sions, and reaches the thing in itself. Ideal and real
are only impressions."
"You go too deep for me !" he said, hiding a vague
discomfort under his blunt rebuff.
"Anyhow, I do not think we need fear for Mr.
Haines. Whatever the issue I think he is gaining a
great experience."
"It is putting something into his music that was not
there before, anyhow," said Hervey, his cold eyes light-
ening. "Miss Playfair is not the sort of girl who
suggests inspiration, but she is having that effect on
Haines. I believe she is musical too. I have not heard
her sing yet."
"Have you not?" said Claudia with a fine little smile
playing round her lips. "She sang a song one night at
Government House of which she did not understand
one word they were very wonderful words! and
then she very nearly sang 'Because' when Mr. Merryn
asked her. Mr. Haines just stopped that perform-
ance."
Hervey gave a short laugh. "The French version
is not bad," he said. "It is the maudlin sentimentality
of the English that has damned the thing. A reference
to the Deity always fetches the public, or the cheerful
statement that though severed on earth they are the
more certain to be united in Heaven. I always wonder
why, since the logical conclusion is to the contrary."
"It annoys me so when people make appointments to
meet you in Heaven exactly as if it were the teashop
round the corner!" said Claudia; and the corners of
EXILE 177
her mouth trembled into a faint, apologetic smile, as if
she feared she had been a trifle drastic over Barbara's
singing.
"I know. 'Behind the fifth angel on the right, and
don't miss the seraphim, please !' I believe they think
the angelic choirs will take the place of the band at the
Carlton."
She rose for the meal was finished and walked
leisurely before him into the further room. Here their
coffee was brought to them, and he offered her a
cigarette. She lit and smoked it, and he sat and
watched her with half -closed eyes. There was some-
thing piquant, almost bizarre, in this armed truce be-
tween them. When would she break it ? Her indiffer-
ence, the idle fall of her gown, the very smoke ascend-
ing in exquisite spirals from the cigarette, seemed to
hedge her round with safety and left him at a disad-
vantage. There would be something rude, almost ill-
bred, in mentioning the letter now or his vile sugges-
tion. He kept an obstinate silence, leaving it to her to
break down her own reserve ; but she never spoke of it.
They talked in desultory fashion for half-an-hour, and
had it not been for the impatient expectancy in his mind
he would have found her charming. He remembered
that, when she and her husband first came to Exile,
he had known them fairly well for a short time, and
Claudia Everard and he had drifted into a kind of
friendship. Then a growing distrust of the Chief Jus-
tice had made him go less and less to the house, and
the finish of his work had taken the initiative from him
and left him to seek distraction in worse ways. He had
begun that series of entanglements that had ended the
other day with Mrs. Bride, and had shunned Mrs.
178 EXILE
Everard because he had asked nothing but friendship
from her. Gradually the baiting of women became less
and less of an abstraction, but their dance of death
still amused him, and the more empty and unsatisfy-
ing it became the more he disliked the atmosphere that
seemed to hold Claudia Everard aloof, until he had
come to hate her. The various stages by which he had
arrived at his present state of mind and degrading pur-
pose drifted across his memory as she talked to him
again as a friend, graciously and freely, until he felt
at last that her humiliation was the only thing to restore
his self-respect.
A deep-voiced clock somewhere in the house chimed
ten, and Mrs. Everard turned her head to listen.
"I am afraid it is no use to expect my husband any
longer," she said. "He will not come to-night."
He waited patiently, but she made no further com-
ment on the matter. For another half-hour she talked
on indifferently, and then rose to say good-night with
the same unbroken calm.
"If you will excuse my going to bed so early?" she
said with the very slightest lift of that entrancing upper
lip. It was almost too slight for a smile.
"I am sure you must be tired after your journey!"
he replied, taking her cool, unresponsive hand in his.
"It is so good of you to put me up! I should not
have slept a wink over the way, I expect," she laughed.
"I am sure the beds are not clean, and I should have
fancied that the Arabs had slept in them."
"It has been a great pleasure!" he said with fine
irony.
"Good-night!"
She turned from him with the same careless grace,
EXILE 179
and he thought he had never seen a head so beautifully
set on a neck as hers. Every curve of her was as per-
fect as a statue's, and like a statue's as uncompelling.
She crossed the large room deliberately, to the stair-
case which opened upwards from its further end, and
then as deliberately came back. He was still standing
where she had left him, beside a little table that held a
box of cigarettes, ash-trays, and a match-box. She
walked up to this table and laid something upon it
nearest to where he stood. It was the key of the room
he had assigned to her. Then without the least droop
of her eyelids she turned away again, and this time
really ascended the stairs and left him.
Hervey stood absolutely still, looking down at the
key. His face had not altered any more than hers,
save that a certain excitement had come into his eyes
which was very foreign to them. He thought again of
those small white hands and some weapon. . . . Was
that what she meant to lure him on to? If she asked
for the letter first he would know at once what to ex-
pect. His feeling now was not any desire for her
not even the animal desire for her beauty so much as
the excitement of portended battle. It was to be a fight,
fought out to the end and he had longed for a fight,
longed to use the maddening flood of life in his veins,
to test his strength. He looked down at his flat, strong
wrists, like bars of steel, and did not doubt the issue,
even though she held loaded death in her hands. Once
let him get within reach, she had no chance. But, oh !
how he loved the excitement of the struggle ! The very
uncertainty of what was coming made life worth living.
He could have shouted with joy as if intoxicated. The
stultifying effect of the life in Exile was passing from
i8o EXILE
him, for this hour at least ; he could almost have blessed
the woman for the adventure.
It struck eleven before he moved. Then he picked
up the key and, dropping it in his pocket, went up to his
own room. Like many very big men he was light on
his feet, and he hardly woke the echoes of the echoing
house as he passed the door of her room in going to
his; but he wondered if she heard, and prepared her-
self. The servants had all gone to bed he had put
out the lights downstairs himself. He undressed and
bathed, got into his pyjamas, and then listened. There
was no sound in the next room, and for a moment he
wondered if after all she had made her escape. Then
through the wall he heard a low voice singing singing
the French version of "Because"
"Lorsque j'entends ton pas, comme en un reve,
Le folle espoir de te revoir s'eleve
Et vainement vers toi je tends les bras
Quand j'entends ton pas!"
Hervey left his room quietly and walked out into
the passage. Her door was only a few yards beyond,
and he laid his hand on the handle and turned it. It
could not be locked, for the key was in his pocket. He
walked straight into the bedroom, without knocking,
and when inside he put the key in the lock and turned
it, so that they were locked in together. If she had a
weapon he was ready.
Claudia was standing on the other side of the room,
brushing out her thick, soft hair. There was no light
save the long bars of moonlight through the opened
jalousies, but the white blaze showed her to him as
plainly as by day. She put down the brush on the
EXILE 181
dressing-table and, flinging back the mass of her hair
over her shoulders, came to him across the room.
There was no faltering in her step, but as she neared
him he did not recognise her, for her face was trans-
figured. The marble whiteness was gone, and in its
place was a rosy flush which somehow seemed to en-
velop all her body and make her pulse with life. There
were tears in her eyes hanging on those dense lashes,
but the maddening upper lip trembled into the tenderest
laughter. As she reached him she lifted both arms and
laid them round his neck, putting up her mouth to his
like a child but he was too tall for her, and did not
stoop his head in the extremity of his amazement.
"Don't you understand ?" she said in a broken whis-
per. "I love you!"
His arms had folded round her mechanically, as they
might have done round a child, and he stood holding
her as if he did not know what in pity to do with her.
It was not till she drew his head down to hers that their
lips met, and then he began to tremble and pant like
some wild creature first trapped.
"Are you making a fool of me?" he said thickly;
and his eyes were almost murderous with the fear of
losing what he had hardly gained.
"Look at me and see," she answered fearlessly,
dropping her head against his shoulder with a little
confiding gesture that made him draw her savagely
closer. "Oh, Richmond, don't be so stupid! Can't
you understand?"
"But " he stammered, his face half -buried in
her soft, faint-scented hair. "No woman has ever
loved me. They have been afraid of me, and and
they said it was hypnotism, but never love. I shouldn't
182 EXILE
know what to do " He broke off with a half-angry
laugh, and thrust her away from him. "I don't believe
it!"
She stood quite patiently, waiting, only the little
smile in her eyes that were raised to his. And as sud-
denly as he had let her go he caught her again, gripping
her in his arms so that he hurt her and she caught her
breath. "Make a fool of me if you like, but let me
believe it !" he said. "For God's sake let me believe it !
Tell me every beautiful lie you can think of, and kiss
me as if you meant it, or I shall go mad and kill you."
"I should not mind if you did," she said in a low
voice. "So long as it was you."
And then there was a sudden silence, and had they
listened they would have heard the great free winds of
the desert blowing through the moonlight. It was very
light in the outside world, and even the garden was
only barred with black and silver as the wind swung
the shadows of the date-palms over the white walls of
the bungalow. The palms made a curious insistent
noise, like the rustle of stiff silk. But the man and
woman in the locked room saw and heard nothing
save each other. Looking down at her as she stood in
the jealous circle of his arms, he saw that her eyelids
were drooping as one on the verge of happy sleep, and
beneath her lashes the colour of her eyes was as deep
as wine.
"Claudia, it isn't all a dream, is it?"
She opened her eyes fully at that, and her expression
was rather grave. "You mustn't think that," she said
earnestly. "I want you to feel sure. Of course it is
all new and strange to you, but I have known it for
two years."
EXILE 183
"But you couldn't have cared for me all that time!
Not from the first?"
"Yes, soon after we came here. I didn't understand
what it was at first, and it made me very unhappy.
Then it seemed to take possession of me, and I gave up
struggling. It was as if a god suddenly entered an
empty shrine. I had only to hide my face and worship.
Only, I thought you would never know."
"I ought to have known. Look what I have missed
for two years! Why didn't you tell me? somehow."
"Why, I have been telling you, with every breath I
drew 1" He heard her low tender laughter in the moon-
lit darkness, and drew his lips lingeringly over her
throat and neck. "And then there were the others,"
she said with a rather troubled breath. "I never knew
that you might not really care for one of them some
day."
"Don't !" He winced a little. "I know I deserve it,
but now that I have found you and love together it
seems impossible that I could."
Again she laughed a little, with the half-sad tender-
ness one gives to a child. "You think you love me?"
she said very gently.
"Give me time to prove it only time!"
"Oh, Ritchie," she said almost pityingly, "you don't
know the A. B. C. of love yet! Some day you will
look back, and but I could only reach you this way.
You couldn't understand another language yet. And
some day everything will take its proper place."
"I am ready to learn," he said almost humbly.
"Only, don't let soul quench sense I'm too human."
"Sense is just as divine," she said quietly, and her
arm clasped him reassuringly with a little soft pressure.
184 EXILE
"What iron muscles! It is as if your strength had
become materialised."
"Did I hurt you ? You must blame your own sweet-
ness. And I never knew I never guessed "
"Why did you ask me to come to you if you did
not love me?" she said a little wonderingly. "I was
nearly breathless that day ; it came like a streak of light
the chance of my life. I dared not look at you, or
you would have seen."
"I suppose I always loved you," he said slowly,
"and it was that that made me so angry. I wanted to
break down your reserve even to hurt you, and to
make you suffer, if I could only force you to feel."
"You thought I should refuse!"
"I thought you would denounce me turn on me
tell me what a cur I was. Even this evening I won-
dered well, I wondered if you had a weapon !"
"Ritchie!"
"And then you came across the room like that
one glow ripe for me and love. Claudia ! say it just
once more. I can't believe it yet."
And she put her lips to his and formed the words
"I love you" slowly, between the kisses.
CHAPTER X
"Look down, dear eyes, look down,
Lest you betray her gladness.
Dear brows, do nought but frown,
Lest men miscall my madness."
W. E. HENLEY.
T T had been arranged between them that she should
go home after breakfast, before the heat of the
day. A messenger was to come from the Fort with
any chits that might have arrived, and she had made
certain the day before that there should be an envelope
in her husband's handwriting. Then it would be easy
to say that he had changed his plans and was not stay-
ing at the Half-way House, and Othman could order
her car and be cognisant of the whole affair.
They had parted at dawn, but they met at the break-
fast table with a new and deep content in their eyes.
The servants did not wait, and as soon as they were
alone he laid his hands on her shoulders and looked
down into her face with a long hungry gaze, as if he
would lose no line of its beauty.
"I do not think I can part from you," he said.
"I think you must; there is your work to consider,
and your position. I will not do you the least harm
if any sacrifice can avoid it."
"But you forget that you are sacrificing me, too.
Claudia, when will you come to me again?"
185
186 EXILE
"I do not know." The brightness of her face fade. 1
a little, and her eyes were troubled.
"You know, of course, that this cannot go on. I
must have 'you entirely. There is no question about
that?" He spoke with the full force of his will behind
the quiet words.
"Then I think we must go home. There would be
less scandal in Europe. I am afraid that yesterday
I hardly looked beyond the moment. It seemed as if
the world ended there !"
"When you blush like that you make me think of a
rose on fire," he said, and his voice was not quite steady.
"Tell me when to throw up my appointment here, or
to take leave, and I can be ready in twenty-four hours."
"I must think," she said a little pleadingly. "I
must think doubly for you, as I see you will not for
yourself."
"What does it matter? Nothing matters now, so
long as you do not repent." His hands on her shoul-
ders grew heavier, and he looked hard into her face.
"You do not repent, do you ?" he said hurriedly.
She looked up in sheer amazement, her face glorified
again by that curious radiance that had dazzled him last
night. "Repent !" she said slowly. "I do not think I
could find it in my heart to repent, even if it injured
you with the world, and that is the only thing that
could trouble me. It cannot injure us in any other
way so long as it is love and not lust. I feel as if one
half of me had been wanting all my life and I had just
become complete. One cannot repent of that!"
"I never saw eyes quite like yours before!" he said
suddenly. "I used to think they were wine-coloured.
I suppose it is because they are both violet and brown."
EXILE 187
"Do let us have breakfast !" said Claudia, laughing.
"I am growing so nervous with being criticised that
it is taking my appetite away." Then as he stooped to
kiss her she added in a whisper, "Ritchie, doesn't it
seem natural, our being here like this?"
"Do you feel that?" he answered quickly. "I think
we must have been living together in some double life
from infinity. I know all your tastes come and sit
next me, and don't put the table between us as it was
last night."
It was a merry meal, and a very happy one, nor did
either of them find that they did not want to eat.
People who commit conventional sins are only threat-
ened with conventional punishment, and just as far as
they are afraid of such consequences they will suffer.
But you cannot try Love in a court of law, or make
him subject to the statute-book. Lust indeed may
incur a fine and suffer social ostracism; but Love
laughs at such hindrances, as he does at marriage.
The only penalty that can be inflicted on him is the
sacrifice of body and soul on an altar that is not his,
an outrage of Nature that avenges itself daily.
"You said you liked the flowers last night," Hervey
said, when, their meal finished, they strolled into the
further rooms to wait for Mrs. Everard's car and to
smoke cigarettes. "Will you take some back with you ?
I should like to give you as many as you can carry."
And then he marvelled at himself, for he remembered
what he had said of Haines. Only twenty-four hours,
and lo ! he was doing the very same thing, and finding
flowers an appropriate gift with which to fill the
hands of his lady.
"I should love them," said Claudia; and then she
i88 EXILE
added demurely, "But are you sure that you would not
rather give me a peg-top or a jack-in-the-box some-
thing that I could play with?"
"Did you remember that? So did I and I thought
what a fool I was not to understand Haines, though
you must allow that you are not in the least like Miss
Play fair. I want to give you flowers, and jewels, and
the richest silks that can be bought everything that is
beautiful!"
"And material !" she added quietly. "Dear Ritchie,
give me something better. Flowers are always wel-
come, they seem to me symbolical. But for your jewels
I will have patient service, and for your silks trust and
faith."
"But don't you see that they mean the same thing
to men?" he pleaded. "We are very clumsy, but we
want to express our devotion that way we want to
give."
She flushed that sudden intoxicating colour all over
the dead whiteness of her skin. "I ought to under-
stand," she said in a lower tone. "I also wanted to
give, however material the gift."
He drew her against him for a moment, holding her
so that she felt the heavy throbbing of his heart under
his broad chest. "It means so much to me !" he said
rather pitifully. "It means that you are my woman
and I am your man. I am afraid I shouldn't believe
you loved me without it not one man in a hundred
would!"
"I know. That was why I gave partly. Oh, don't
think it means nothing to me, or that it is not a
pleasure." The word came bravely, but the clear red
EXILE 189
blood ran up even to the golden hair. "Only, it isn't
everything."
Perhaps he could not quite follow her as faithfully
as he wished, for he changed the subject. "I forgot,"
he said, and while he still held her he drew an envelope
from his pocket. "Here is the letter you asked for."
He watched her while she took and held it indif-
ferently. "It was the means to an end," she said
quietly. "Not the end from the means. But perhaps
I had better take it. I do not like to see the fear that
this caused, in any human being."
"I ought to tell you that it is not the only danger
threatening Everard," he said slowly. "Had that letter
been made public, what he feared was the Arab popu-
lation, and I know he had cause. But there is a Peti-
tion gone home to the Colonial Secretary praying for
inquiry into certain charges against him, which must
end in investigation. It may be a longer process than
the native rising which would have wreaked its ven-
geance on him, but it is bound to come. If he does not
know of this you had better tell him."
She did not look startled, only a little graver. "Yes,
I will tell him," she said. "I have been hoping that he
would go home that the scandal might be avoided
somehow."
She moved away from him swiftly as the sound of
the car fell on her ears, and a minute later Othman an-
nounced its appearance. Then she went up to her room
to cloak and veil herself, and in a few minutes returned,
the same grey, mysterious figure of her arrival last
night.
"Good-bye!" she said composedly, offering him her
hand in the presence of several of the servants who
190 EXILE
i
were in waiting. "I am sorry to have trespassed on
you in my husband's name; it was so stupid of me to
make a mistake about his plans but I am very glad I
came."
The secret daring of the words almost made him
smile. She had the advantage under her veil, and he
would have liked to see the shining of the deep-coloured
eyes, the lift of her pretty upper lip. "It is I who am
in your debt for a delightful evening," he said courte-
ously. "You saved me from my own company. If
Mr. Everard does decide to break the journey here,
will you let me know ?"
"I expect he will come straight through when he
does come," she said evasively. "Good-bye!"
He followed her out to the car and helped her in,
his hand for one moment on her waist, but he did not
risk a private word, for he knew in his own mind that
he meant to see her again very soon, with more oppor-
tunity for intimate speech. Then there was the whir-
ring of the starter it was a hired car, and old-fash-
ioned and she was rolling out of sight away into the
desert, soon a mere speck on the grey-toned sands.
But the face of all the world had changed since her
advent.
Claudia leaned back in her seat tranquilly, mind and
body at peace. She had neither scruples nor qualms,
which belong to lesser experiences, and the great forces
of her passion seemed to have swept ordinary consider-
ations aside. The merely titular claim of the man who
was her husband had never weighed with her, since
she was to her own mind no more than his house-
keeper; the restrictions of a conventional morality and
a social verdict only mattered so far as they affected
EXILE 191
Hervey and must be safeguarded only on his account.
As far as she was herself concerned she would have
walked out of her husband's house, and gone with
Hervey to the ends of the earth at a moment's notice;
but she was as careful for his future as she might have
been for her own son's. She wanted time for consider-
ation, as she had told him time to weigh the draw-
backs of a divorce, the scandal that would ensue, and
the necessity of his leaving Exile on her account. His
work there was really finished, but he might have
looked for acknowledgment from his Government, and
even honours. Influential men spoke of a K.C.M.G.
for him when he should go home, and an important
post. Both these he must relinquish for a life with
her. She was jealous for him, and would fain have
contrived that he should "eat his cake and have it"
after the manner of women. The masculine mind is
generally more philosophic with regard to the limita-
tions of the proverb. Anyhow, it required thinking
over.
When Mrs. Everard arrived at her own bungalow
she was informed that Mr. Murgatroyd had rung her
up last evening after she had started for the Half-way
House, and that he would call this afternoon if she
would see him. There was no necessity to telephone if
she would be in. Claudia turned a little cold as she
faced some new communication from her husband, and
realised the possibility of Murgatroyd following her
out last night. That he had not done so seemed a grace
of Providence. She sat down to wait and compose her
nerves.
He came at five and found her awaiting him, unal-
tered to her own consciousness, but with a new flushed
192 EXILE
beauty that kept his bewildered gaze on her. He was
always prone to sit and watch her out of cavernous
eyes, and she had grown used to it as one grows used
to the patient attendance of a dog; but to-day he could
not if he would have removed his gaze from the won-
der of her face. Her eyes seemed brimful of tender-
ness for all the world, and to include even him in their
wide radiance. He sat and basked in it, dazedly, like
some poor insect long denied the sun.
"Well, Stanley !" she said kindly, looking up at his
pallid, emaciated face. "Any news?"
"Edgar wrote yesterday very urgently. He wants
to know if you have accomplished anything; he must
return before the court sits, or or go further away."
He lowered his voice and spoke almost hoarsely in his
excitement. "He is so unreasonable!" he burst out,
still in that suppressed voice. "He is wrong to set you
such a task. I told him it was impossible for you or
any human being to get that letter."
"But I have got the letter!"
He remained staring down at her from his great
height for he looked taller than he was owing to being
so thin without attempting to sit down. His eyes
seemed to recede until they became mere pinpoints of
incredulity and suspicion. He seemed stricken dumb,
and yet he was still distracted by her new beauty even
from the shock of her words.
"Sit down, Stanley, and I will tell you about it,"
she said kindly. She had decided on what she must
say, and how explain her possession of the letter. "I
went out to Half-way House yesterday under the ex-
cuse of meeting Edgar really to get speech with Mr.
Hervey. He gave up the letter, but he warned me that
EXILE 193
there is a new danger on foot one he seems to con-
sider as unavoidable, a Petition to have Edgar's judg-
ments inquired into. Have you heard of it?"
"No ! But how did you "
"He admitted that Edgar was unpopular with the
Arabs, but he seemed to think this inquiry a more cer-
tain disaster for him. Stanley, what are we to do ?"
He did not answer, save by another question. He
still looked bewildered.
"But you have got the letter?"
"Yes, I have got the letter, but after all Edgar's fear
may have exaggerated its effects in Exile. The Petition
is a slower method of being revenged on him, but I
think the Europeans will carry it through."
"If you have got the letter Edgar will not care
he will snap his fingers in the face of their Petition,
and come back and carry the cases through."
"Oh, Stanley, he must not!" Her face altered into
real distress. "He must be made to understand how
serious it is I hoped he would go home."
"Not before he has got rid of Azeopardi. He has
vowed to clear Hassan's way and his own he will
get control of the silk trade whatever happens."
She was silent for a minute, thinking. "Perhaps he
had better come back, and I can talk to him myself. I
can generally make him understand," she said with
unintentional irony.
Murgatroyd did not answer, but sat looking at her
still under the shadow oi his hand, which he held over,
his eyes as if to screen them from the glare of the out-
side world, for the shutters were wide open. There
was something almost sinister in this scrutiny, or she
194 EXILE
fancied so, and she said almost sharply, "Will you tele-
graph for me?"
He started as if caught dreaming, and appeared as
nervous as she. "Oh, certainly," he said hastily, taking
a note-book from his pocket. "In code, of course."
"No, I think not. It looks more suspicious. We
must not lose a point. Simply put that we are expecting
him to-morrow, or next day, and add 'Please confirm/
He will understand that, and it will only look as if you
wanted to be sure of some arrangement already made
by letter."
He was busy writing the message to her suggestion ;
but suddenly he flung the book on to the table and
started up, surprising her so that she nearly rose also.
"He ought never to have dragged you into this !" he
said, with a criticism of the Chief Justice very unlike
himself. "He ought at least to have kept one thing
sacred. Why were you sent out to that man to run the
risk of being thought privy to it? Why "
"All Exile will think me privy to it, Stanley, they
probably think so now !"
"It is not a business for women," he said inco-
herently. "If Edgar chooses to take risks that is
another thing; he has a great stake. I do not blame
him!" he added defiantly, but when had he ever blamed
Everard? "He ought anyhow to have screened you."
She looked at him with that same surprise, wonder-
ing at his agitation. She had never known Murga-
troyd so self-assertive before in his own opinion,
though he could uphold Everard's. "It does not mat-
ter," she said quietly. "Perhaps he will let me go
home."
"Yes" he caught eagerly at the word. "He ought
EXILE 195
to send you home before there can be any unpleasant-
ness for you. I shall tell him so !"
"You !" she said with a little gentle mockery. "Why,
Stanley, he would argue you out of your opinion in
five minutes, and prove himself in the right and you in
the wrong. When have you ever been able to hold
your own with Edgar?"
"Never till now," he agreed unexpectedly. "He al-
ways seems so right. But in this I am sure that he is
not right, and I can stand to my colours when I have a
strong enough motive. You shall see." He rose to
take his leave, but lingered a minute looking at the
bowl of jessamine and goldmore blossoms on the table.
"What beautiful flowers!" he said gently. "I never
realised how one misses them in a room. And they
look so right here, with you." She did not answer,
save by encircling the bowl with her hands and drawing
it to her as if she drew a precious memory. "Is it the
flowers that have made you so happy?" he said.
"Happy !" she echoed a little startled, and the blood
rushed up over her pale face. "Do I look so happy ?"
"I have never seen you quite like this," he said ; and
she thought his voice was not steady. "There is some-
thing so wonderful something in your face. I
thought I knew every line of it I come here so much,
you see and now it seems that I never knew it at all."
She bent her face above the flowers as if to hide it
and touch them with her lips unknown to him. "I am
of course very relieved about Edgar," she said with an
effort. "And yes! the flowers were a great pleas-
ure!"
"Hervey gave them to you?"
"He told his butler to cut me a bunch."
196 EXILE
"I wish 7 had given them to you to bring that look
into your face they must have given you such intense
pleasure !" he said a little wildly.
She was dumb. Had any other man given her the
jessamine and goldmore blossoms they would have been
just flowers lovely in themselves, and welcome in
Exile, nothing more. She realised that what she had
said was true flowers were symbolical to her, given
by Richmond Hervey, they were not among his usual
gifts to women. When she looked up Murgatroyd had
gone. The removal of his long, dank presence was a
relief, especially with that oddness in his manner. She
wondered if she had betrayed herself, and rising went
to the mirror to look. It reflected the same dull gold
crown of hair, oval face, and proud sweet beauty; but
the eyes were full of a radiance that was almost
shamed, the lips said "Kiss me !" to an absent lover, the
blood came and went at his bidding even in memory.
She saw her secret triumphantly confessed in every
line of her likeness in the mirror, as if love had already
crowned her. With a sound between a laugh and a
cry she hid her face in her hands.
"That is the woman that he loves!" she said.
CHAPTER XI
"Our life is like a curious play
Where each man acteth to himself.
'Let us be open as the day !'
One mask doth to another say,
That he may deeper hide himself.
('Let us be open as the day!'
That he may deeper hide himself.)
And so the world goes round and round,
Until our life with rest is crowned
Ah, well is thee thou art asleep !"
ANON.
THE Chief Justice returned the next day. tjis
motor car ran straight into the Fort, without
stopping at Half-way House or in the village for water.
It was generally necessary to carry both water and
petrol in the desert, as well as lubricating oil, and if
the passengers' own strength could stand it there was
nothing to prevent cars running through, though they
started at daybreak to get in at night. Usually it was
the travellers who broke down, and not the automo-
biles. Those hours, end on end, in the intensity of the
desert were trying to anything like sensitive nerves
or a weak constitution. People stopped at Hassan's
because the last ten miles were intolerable, as much
as to feed the car. But the Chief Justice was made of
iron as far as bodily ailments went. The irony of his
leave at Health had been patent to half Exile when
he went out there "for a necessary change."/ He could
197
198 EXILE
sit five days a week all the year round and not feel it.
In the dusk of the evening he came once more, enter-
ing his bungalow less like a thief than he had left if,
but with uncertainty still in his watching eyes and head
turned over his shoulder. Claudia met him on his
entrance, and he could hardly wait the departure of
the servants from the room to hear her news.
"Well ?" he said feverishly. "Stanley wired me that
you were expecting me. That can only mean one
thing. You would not expect me as long as there was
danger in my return. Well?"
"I have got the letter, Edgar."
"Do you mean that that Hervey gave it up to
you ?" He stammered in his excitement.
"Yes."
"It isn't the right one then; he has made a fool of
you!" he broke out suddenly, with a bitter disappoint-
ment that made her look at him curiously. She won-
dered if he were going to cry. His absolute indiffer-
ence to others' welfare so long as his own was assured
had always made him invulnerable, since he had se-
cured his own by all the talent granted him. But now
that old fortification was down he seemed like a child,
with a child's want of settled purpose.
"No, it is your letter. I have read it," she said
slowly.
"But why did he give it up? What did he want
in return? What am I to pay him? How slow you
are in answering, Claudia!" He was almost in a
frenzy, leaning his hands upon the table between them,
his convulsed face thrust towards hers. She was look-
ing at him with a slow wonder that ever, years ago,
she could have thought him handsome. The narrow-
EXILE 199
ness of the face and the sensual lips seemed to take
from it any advantage of the straight, thin features
and brilliant, near-set eyes. Yet there were many peo-
ple who admitted that the Chief Justice was hand-
some, whatever their opinion of him. His wife sud-
denly saw that his face was ugly.
"He did not ask any concessions either in Reserve
or Fort," she said dully. "He would not listen to a
bribe of money. Do you not see that he could not?"
she asked with slow scorn.
"Oh, you mean it would have been dangerous, in
turn, for him ! But he had us in a wedge we could
not have used it against him. He might have made
what terms he liked !" He spoke almost with a gasp,
and she realised that he was putting himself in Her-
vey's place and thinking what he could have done him-
self how he could have wrung concessions, and
ground the last ounce out of a victim so at his mercy
as he had been at Hervey's.
"He did not set so much value on the letter as you
did ; he does not understand bodily fear !" said Clau-
dia. Her lips felt a little stiff, and she wondered if
this lesson that she had carefully taught herself
sounded as unnatural as it did to her. "There is a
Petition gone home to the Colonial Secretary praying
for inquiry into certain charges against you. He
warned me of it. Edgar, did you know? He seemed
to think it more final for you than the letter."
But he laughed, loudly and mirthlessly, as Murga-
troyd had said he would. "Let them petition as much
as they please!" he said. "It will be months before
anything is done, and by that time I It was the
letter that might have destroyed me, here, now, on the
200 EXILE
spot" and he shuddered. "Have you got it there?"
he added hastily.
She drew the envelope out of her breast and held
it towards him. He snatched at it, glanced at his own
handwriting, and began to tear it across and across
.without further investigation. Then as if changing his
mind he gathered the pieces into an ash-tray on the
table, and striking an unsteady match set fire to them.
"You read the letter? You are sure it was mine?" he
said.
"Yes, I read it."
The flames curled up recklessly, threatening danger ;
but there were no draperies to burn in this house. A
little black ash floated away on to the floor, and he
flicked at the remainder with his finger.
"I trust you, my dear if you have read the letter he
cannot have put me off with a hoax," he said with a
ghastly lightness. "There goes Hervey's power over
me ! The fool ! But tell me the details, Claudia. How
long have you had this ? God, what a weight off me f
Why did you let me stay out at that cursed place
at Health all this time ? You ought not to have kept
me there !" He was querulous in his reaction.
"I have only had the letter for some thirty-six hours.
Stanley wired to you as soon as I got back."
"But you were to meet Hervey more than a week
ago, at Government House. Did you not go?"
"Yes, I went, but he was going away with the Ad-
miral for a week's cruise. It was difficult to get an
interview."
"I see I see. You are always clever, Claudia you
never lose your head, or rush things. Well, and
then?"
EXILE 201
She had shuddered a little a long convulsion of
her straight slight limbs that shook her from head to
foot as he gloated over her success; but she answered
in the same even tone. "Then I went out to Half-way
House on excuse of meeting you returning from
Health."
"Capital! And he could not refuse to see you?"
"I dined with him that night, as they were not pre-
pared at Hassan's, and we talked it out."
"And then you came straight back? With the let-
ter?"
"I slept out there that night ; I had to. It was late
when when we had finished talking."
"Oh, of course I meant the next morning. But
I wonder he gave it up so tamely !" His elation faded
a little. He glanced up sharply in suspicion, not of
her, but of the man he feared. "Do you think he has
something else up his sleeve? some new dodge that
makes the letter useless?"
"Only what I told you the Petition. I am sure,
from his manner, that that is a grave matter, Edgar."
He snapped his fingers. "They may go to hell with
the Petition. The silk trade is ours!" he said as-
suredly. "We are as safe as a church. What beats
me is how you argued him out of his own 'down' on
me but Hervey was always a straw in a woman's
hands!"
The contemptuous arrogance of the tone met a sud-
den response in Mrs. Everard's impassive face. She
flushed to meet it, a sudden scarlet anger that faded
but left her face very softly proud, as if she took up
arms for something unspoken. Everard's narrow eyes
had again been fixed on the pile of black ash as if
202 EXILE
fascinated. When he chanced to raise them and looked
at his wife he seemed to find something there to catch
his attention.
"Of course you are the most beautiful woman in
Exile," he said, as if repeating a fact well known to
him, but impressed on him afresh. "A beautiful
woman pleading for her husband proved too much even
for his shrewdness, eh, Claudia ? I should like to have
heard you! You must have looked magnificent."
"It was a purely business interview," said Mrs.
Everard coldly. There was a faint disgust in her tone
that he seemed to appreciate.
"Repulsive, anyhow, for you, poor girl! And you
have never been one of his idols, even from a distance.
But you are a beauty all the same, my dear ! and you
couldn't prevent his seeing it."
He spoke with a certain triumph in the possession of
her as a useful asset; but she recognised something
more something that struck a shock of alarm all along
her sharpened senses. The mere thought that her ap-
peal to another man had been successful increased her
value in his eyes. The idea of her beauty attracting
Hervey however unwilling he believed it on her part
made it attract him also. He had a palate that must
be stimulated with sauces to make healthy food eat-
able, as Claudia knew; his mental palate was being
stimulated by Hervey's supposed admiration with the
same effect. He had lived in daily intercourse with her
for years, and had found her fulfil all the needs of a
figurehead to his household; but he had never seen
her excite more than the appreciation accorded a fine
picture by other men. Now already she felt his eyes
steal to her again and again, and that extra sense on
EXILE 203
guard over the sacredness of her love warned her that
if he had excuse he would move nearer to her touch
her.
She drew back, almost with a cry, and turned to
take refuge in her room. "You must be very tired,
and you have had nothing to eat," she said in her
ordinary voice. "I have dined already, but I told
Abdul to have a second meal ready. Do you mind if
I go to bed ? The last two days have been very tiring,
as you may suppose, and I slept badly last night."
He had no excuse to detain her, but he seemed
slightly disappointed. "I have not half done talking it
over yet," he said. "I want to hear exactly what you
said and what he said. But if you want to go "
"I do really; and I do not remember exactly what
was said. It was very painful, as you may imagine.
He guessed that I was not entirely in your confidence,
and he carefully unfolded all your plans to me, and
what you had already accomplished !" A faint bitter-
ness was on her lips in spite of her measured voice,
and he shrank from it.
"Yes, of course he would curse him!" he said
hastily. "Poor Claudia! Well, good-night!"
He made a slight movement towards her at last,
almost as if he would shake hands. They had not
kissed for years, and the mockery of a handshake
between them set her on her guard again. She said
carelessly, "Good-night!" and passed into her room,
locking her door behind her.
Then her limbs began to tremble, and she sat down
in a long resting chair, as if the strain had been greater
than she knew. It was not that she feared her hus-
band's discovery of what had happened between Her-
204 EXILE
vey and herself, for had it not been for Hervey's posi-
tion she would have told him and been indifferent to
any consequences to herself. But she was vaguely
afraid of something that she saw in men's eyes now
that love had crowned and glorified her. It was as if
she were radiated by an inward fire, and they, not
knowing of its source, yet craved to warm themselves
at its flame. She knew from her reflection in the glass
that her beauty had never reached its consummation
until now; there had been a something lacking, as it
might be in a nearly perfect work of art by an inferior
craftsman who had just missed the inspiration of
genius. Now that she had been completed and atp
sorbed in one man she was aghast at the effect upon
others who were nothing to her and who stood outside
the charmed circle. Murgatroyd's stammering be-
wilderment last night when he looked in her face had
startled her, though she could not extinguish the glory
that betrayed her; but her husband's dawning attrac-
tion to-day was far worse. It had even diverted his
attention from pressing the point of her unexplained
success in getting possession of the letter, or had given
him a reason, half-formulated, half-suppressed, in the
darker workings of his mind. He had not doubted her,
but he had doubted Hervey ; and out of the doubt had
arisen the competitive instinct of some men who cannot
desire until they see another do so. When she was
merely his legitimate property he had had no inclina-
tion for her, but the suggestion of her attracting other
men whetted his appetite as the sauces of the dinner
he was even now eating in the next room. It dawned
upon her that if she had had even the atmosphere of
EXILE 205
the prostitute she would have held his fancy longer,
and she shuddered.
After a few minutes she heard a sudden arrival in
the outer room, an exclamation of pleasure from her
husband, and voices. For a minute she nearly cried
out, in her excitement, her mood was so tense; but
one thing the burden of her love had taught her in
two years an almost perfect self-control. She forced
herself to sit still, listening, and then she recognised
Murgatroyd's voice. He had come round, late though
it was, to see his chief, and it proved a welcome inter-
ruption. She breathed more freely, and rising began
slowly to unbind her heavy gold hair. Edgar would
not at least think of her now he would not brood on
a dangerous new atmosphere about her. The voices
of the two men were only audible to Mrs. Everard in
an even monotone, and she could not catch their words.
After the first few sentences of greeting before the
Arab servant the subject uppermost in both their minds
found expression, and the Chief Justice burst into it
almost as breathlessly as he had done to his wife.
"Stanley, you know that it is all right with me?
Claudia got the letter !"
Murgatroyd did not reflect the exuberance in Ever-
ard's face even faintly, as he usually did. Up till now
he had seemed in some way a pale copy of the man
whose more brilliant personality swayed him, whether
Everard's mood were bright or dark. But to-night his
sombre eyes neither lit up nor responded to good
news.
"Yes, I know," he said tonelessly. "I came to speak
to you "
"I burnt it!" the Chief Justice broke in, rubbing his
206 EXILE
long fine hands in a kind of frenzy of enjoyment. "I
saw it drop to ash, and with it that cursed man's power
over me! I wish I could get round on Hervey I
wish I could hold him in my hand as he held me. I
would not let him go until I had squeezed the last drop
of resistance out of him! I'd pay back that ten days
at Health minute by minute !" He drew his lips back
from his sharp white teeth rather brittle teeth, slightly
pointed as cannibals' are said to be, but very white
and his restless eyes were full of ugly light. Had he
been an animal he would have shown the whites of
them. But his venom met with no more response from
Murgatroyd than his elation.
"Why did you send Claudia to him?" he asked heav-
ily, his lowering face turned on Everard with singular
intentness. "Why was she dragged into it at all?"
"Why, Stanley, you don't doubt Claudia! She is as
firm as a rock as safe as a church. She was my win-
ning card ; I did the best thing possible in sending her.
And she has proved it!" he added with a return of
his exultation.
"Nevertheless she ought not to have been mixed
up in a dirty job like that," said Murgatroyd, with a
sudden roughness that was so unexpected that the Chief
Justice almost started. "It is not women's work!"
Everard's eyes narrowed, stared at him, as if trying
to read him and to explain this amazing phenomenon
of his satellite with an opinion differing from his own.
"Claudia has the head of a man !" he said almost sooth-
ingly, as if feeling his way. "And what you seem
to forget she is my wife. If I trust any one with
my interests I must trust her."
The cloud on Murgatroyd's face seemed to darken
EXILE 207
until it became visible in the dull blood rising under
his sallow skin. He turned with what in him might
almost be suppressed fury on his dominator.
"No, I do not forget that she is your wife but it
seems to me that you did," he said fiercely. "Is there
nothing you hold sacred, Edgar, that you will not use
to your own interest? Did you not remember that
she might meet with rudeness, even insult, from that
man after what you had already done? You had no
right to submit her to it no right, I say !"
"Stanley!"
"I will be no party to the scheme if Claudia is to
be a victim to it," said the Crown prosecutor wildly.
"She ought to go to Europe to go home. She is
too fine to drag her down to our level, whatever we
may think fit to do. Make money for her as you like
pile it up to pour into her lap ! but don't soil her in the
making."
Everard had been watching him with those narrowed
eyes, incredulity, suspicion, and a certain mean shrewd-
ness chasing each other across his face like lightning
over the desert. As he ended he threw his head up
with a jarring laugh.
"It's pretty obvious what's the matter with you!"
he said coarsely. "Making a divinity of another man's
wife, eh ! I am not careful enough of Claudia to your
mind you would be a better guardian, you think."
All the dark blood receded from Murgatroyd's face
and left him ghastly, but he was not to be browbeaten
this time. "You can think what you please, Edgar,"
he said, like some despised thing driven to bay. "I
never said one word to Claudia you might not hear
I have never had a hope "
208 EXILE
"Claudia would hardly encourage you!" said
Everard with slow, stinging contempt, looking at the
long, sallow face and emaciated frame as if he looked
upon some repulsive reptile. "You need not trouble
to exonerate yourself. Claudia can contrast us at her
leisure, any day of the week." He smiled half inso-
lently, as if completely satisfied with his own face and
figure; and indeed he had never admired any man so
much as the one he saw in the mirror. "Nevertheless,
I don't care to have you lecturing me on my duty to
my wife, from the standpoint of your own dirty pas-
sion for her," he added with a sudden fierce brutality.
"You had better drop it, once and for all. I'll forget
what you've said this time ; but you'll have to put your
heel on your devotion to Claudia and let me hear no
more about it."
This was one of Everard's trump cards in dealing
with any nature weaker than his own the quick
change from scathing ridicule to savage brutality. He
had used it with effect all through his official career,
and with those unfortunately subservient to him. It
was noticeable that he never attempted it with his wife,
or with those whom he recognised as his masters in
life. Hitherto a mere hint of it had held the Crown
prosecutor in bondage, though there had been little oc-
casion to excuse even the worst of his judicial sentences
to him. Murgatroyd had not seemed too nice about the
misuse of power himself, nor was he scrupulous in
business dealings. This new feeling for Claudia
seemed to have stricken him suddenly mad.
"I have told you already," he said in a perfectly
steady voice, "that you can think what you please.
If you want to quarrel with me you must do so. But
EXILE 209
I will maintain that you are wrong if you allow Claudia
to be mixed up in this ; and you have no right to sacri-
fice her by sending her to plead for you with a man
like Hervey. It must not happen again, Edgar, what-
ever strait we are in."
For a minute the Chief Justice did not speak. He
was tasting the bitterness of finding that a ready tool
had blunted in his hand and threatened to injure him
if he risked using it too roughly. He and Murgatroyd
could not afford to quarrel with each other his quicker
brains saw that, while the slower man was too absorbed
in his devotion to an ideal to think of safety or any-
thing else. He was a grotesque knight-errant, but his
indifferent personality did not detract from the force
of his purpose, and he must be reckoned with. There
was a sudden change in Everard's manner as he turned
to him, almost moist-eyed and with a tremble in his
voice that was not all assumed, for when a man feels
the very stones under his feet threatening to fail his
stability he may well cry out on fortune. Murgatroyd
had been no more than a stone, but a familiar well-used
thing on which he depended for his foothold, and he
could have wept over his defection for the humiliation
of it as well as its danger.
"Look here, Stanley, I spoke harshly," he said with
the manner that unobservant people called "winning."
"But you made me mad. I love Claudia in spite of
our apparent indifference we are very dear to each
other and it would have been as intolerable to her as
to me to guess that you had thought of her in any other
light than as a friend." With that new impression of
her upon him he almost believed what he said ; and at
least, if he had not loved her of late years, there could
210 EXILE
be no doubt that she loved him f "Of course, I don't
wonder," he went on. "Being as intimate as you have
been, and Claudia's beauty, you'd have been a stone to
have resisted." He forgot that most men had been
stones to Claudia Everard up to now and had not found
it hard to resist at all.
Even now Murgatroyd did not meet his advances
with the enthusiasm he expected. He remained staring
at a bowl of flowers on the table the jessamine and
lilies over which he had seen her bend that radiant face
and he spoke sullenly still, though the anger had
died out of his voice also.
"I don't wish to quarrel with you any more than
you with me, Edgar. God knows I've admired you as
I do no other man, and I'd have followed you half-way
to hell! But this one thing can't be. I've never done
Claudia any wrong by my worst thought I've wor-
shipped her like a goddess but I won't see her dragged
through the mud with all of us."
"Perhaps you're right," said Everard, as if in grace-
ful concession. "I will talk it over with her, and she
shall go home. I may go myself before many months
are out," he added significantly.
They parted friends, but the bitterness was not out
of the Chief Justice's mind, whatever might be the case
with the Crown prosecutor. He had lost his power in
some strange way that he could not understand. He
could no longer talk over an unwilling witness to his
side, or convince men and women against their will.
He had been face to face with a mightier pleader than
himself, though he did not recognise it, and love had
risen triumphant above all the art and subtlety and
cunning of evil.
CHAPTER XII
"I have taken that vow
And you were my friend,
But yesterday now
All that's at an end,
And you are my husband and claim me, and I must depend.
"Yesterday I was free,
Now you, as I stand,
Walk over to me
And take hold of my hand.
You look at my lips, your eyes are too bold, your smile is
too bland."
JAMES STEPHENS.
THERE was a dance once a week at Exile Club.
The Marines' band came down to play, and peo-
ple danced in the big room upstairs, and sat out on the
landing outside if the wind were blowing too hard in
the verandah. It was rather too intimate in the Club
for successful dancing; there was no getting away
from your neighbours, and people sitting out were over-
heard by lookers-on, and the dancers ran into each
other round the walls or were jammed in the middle
of the room. Nevertheless it was an institution and
"something to do" in the listless phrase of those sta-
tioned there. Many a dreary festivity continues to
flourish in Exile for the sake of cheating monotony of
a few hours.
Barbara Play fair's first appearance at a Club dance
211
212 EXILE
took place after her engagement was announced, and
left every man in the Fort with a feeling of injury in
consequence. When you are meeting the same people
every day, and dancing with them every week, the ad-
vent of a new-comer is a boon that ought to be free to
competition for a month at least. Moreover, she was
a girl, and at the moment the only girl in Exile, except
the Vanburens' French governess who was not attrac-
tive. All the bachelors felt that the Colonial Secretary
had taken more than his innings in annexing her within
a week of her arrival, and all the married men grum-
bled because she would not now have dances enough
to go round if Haines took every other one, which the
beast would surely do. Barbara had, in fact, arrived
with a programme already much engaged, for besides
Haines' legitimate claims she had given Mr. Merryn
two and the Admiral one. The Admiral had been the
best waltzer in the Navy some years ago, and could
pick and choose still amongst the limited number of
partners. Fortunately for the surplus of men who
were still awaiting their chance, Mr. Smyth, the secre-
tary, did not dance.
When the Government House party appeared the
dance had already begun, being an informal affair ; but
the waltz stopped, and the Marines played "God Save
the King," to Barbara's intense delight. It was the
first time she had entered a room to the National An-
them, and she stared with all her blue eyes at her
uncle's objection.
"Silly nonsense !" said the Admiral. "I've told them
time enough not to treat me like a Punch and Judy
show unless it's some official affair and there's a big
EXILE 213
pot with us. 'Rooty-toot ! here he comes P I might
just as well take a drum and fife with me."
"Oh, but, Uncle Jonathan, I think it's lovely ! And
you're the King's representative ; don't you feel it won-
derful?"
"No, my dear, I don't, and the King doesn't either,
I bet, when they National Anthem him at every tea-
fight and penny-farthing meeting that he has to attend.
A sensible man like that, and a sailor too, don't want to
be drummed in and out of his ship when he's simply
going ashore out of uniform! Anyhow, I don't!
Hulloa! there's the Chief Justice, back at last."
"Hateful man!" said Lady Stroud in a cheerful
aside. "How beautiful his wife looks to-night!"
Mr. and Mrs. Everard were coming across the danc-
ing-room as she spoke to greet the Governor. The
Chief Justice walked well, with a certain grace and
vigour that made him seem younger than he was, and
his thin, handsome face certainly looked the better for
his change of air. There was something almost ag-
gressive in his smile as he shook hands with the Ad-
miral and Lady Stroud and was introduced to Barbara
something more than ever assured of his own charm
and power to please.
"Have you any dances left, Miss Play fair?" he said
at once. "I know if I don't get one now that I shan't
have a chance in another five minutes !"
"You promised some last week, didn't you, Bar-
bara?" Lady Stroud put in, without haste, but quite
firmly. "You mustn't forget Captain Bunney and Mr.
Yarrow."
"Yes, but we didn't settle what numbers," said Bar-
214 EXILE
bara literally. "And I never can remember without a
programme I'm afraid it is first come first served."
"I shall be the first to come!" said Everard con-
fidently. "Which are Mr. Haines' numbers even or
uneven?"
"Oh uneven!" The girl laughed a little and
flushed faintly at this wholesale allotment.
"I shan't try for a single uneven then. This is the
second dance Haines will have the third I know; I
will come for the fourth, Miss Playfair, and the eighth
with your consent."
"Don't be too generous, Barbara!" warned Lady
Stroud. "You will find you have only one to spare to
each claimant if you are to be fair."
"Miss Playfair doesn't want to be fair; she wants
to enjoy herself!" said Everard boastfully. "And it's
up to me to see that she does so." He laughed at
Barbara with a quick flash of his brilliant eyes and a
white gleam of teeth, which seemed to promise the
mirth and carelessness dear to youth, and she thought
him charming.
But when she came to waltz with Haines the next
dance, as Everard had foretold she found that he was
not pleased at the prospect of her dancing with the
Chief Justice.
"What made you give him a dance, child?" he said
quickly, guiding her skilfully in and out of the crowded
couples. He steered well, but he did not swing her
round and round with the solid activity that she called
dancing. "You could surely have made an excuse with
so many engagements already !"
"I never thought of it," said Barbara blankly. "He
EXILE 215
asked me, and he was very nice, and I do so admire
Mrs. Everard !"
"Yes, but" he laughed in a vexed fashion "how-
ever much you may admire a woman it doesn't follow
that her husband is a good sort, unfortunately. I had
rather that you had not danced with him."
"Don't you like him then, Rodney ?"
She looked a little troubled, a little downcast, having
failed already to do the thing he would have preferred.
Had he asserted an authority over her, even in so small
a matter, she would have resented it, no doubt, and in-
sisted on doing as she pleased; but he had somehow
given her a feeling that he was a little disappointed at
her lack of taste, and that she had not shown the right
intuition with regard to the Chief Justice.
"He is rather a cad, I think," said Haines frankly.
"I never thought him good enough for his wife, though
many people find her rather dull and pity him."
"They are a very handsome pair, I think," said Bar-
bara, but her tone still fell flat. "They are dancing
together now."
She was wondering what it felt like to dance with
your own husband, and whether years of married life
made any difference to the pleasure of it. She hoped
not. She was enjoying the motion so much, and
Haines waltzed very well even though he did not go
with the abandonment that she had hitherto preferred.
But she could not honestly say that she would rather
dance with him than with any man present just because
they were engaged, and it worried her that she did not
feel such a preference beyond question. He was so
tender and devoted, and at moments so impassioned,
that she would fain have met him at equal depth, feel-
216 EXILE
ing with real humility that he was giving her more
than he gained. She was always saying to herself,
"Now I really love him!" catching at the moment
before it came. But it never seemed to come.
Barbara was right in saying that the Chief Justice
was dancing with his wife, but it was the only time
that evening. He had urged her to go to the Club
dance, though she would have preferred his going
alone, and partly to escape his importunities, and
partly because it seemed a more normal and natural
thing to do, she accompanied him. She did not even
know who might be there, but her instinct told her
that Hervey would not be. He was still waiting for
a sign or a summons from her, and she had given
none. But she had no sooner entered the motor with
Everard to drive down to the Club than she began to
suspect it was a mistake. Since his arrival the previous
night she had kept out of his way, and as he had been
obliged to be in Reserve all day to see and consult
with Hassan and other members of the silk ring, as she
suspected they had had no opportunity for speech in
private. In the car she had felt him moving stealthily
nearer to her, and once he had referred to her mission
anent the letter with a suddenness that nearly made
her cry out.
"If Hervey could see you now, Claudia, he would
give up a dozen letters ! I don't wonder you got round
the surly brute. That blue gauze thing over your head
makes you enough to warm up any man even your
own husband, my dear!" He laughed softly, and it
had a wicked sound to her through the smooth running
of the car. "God! but he must have cursed me for
owning you !" he added a little thickly.
EXILE 217
Again she recognised that whetted appetite through
the admiration of another man, and her profile almost
sharpened in the restraint she put upon herself. It
seemed to her dreadful even to be sitting there beside
Everard, and she would like to have thrown herself out
of the car and run. Her dark distended eyes went to
the jagged outlines of the Rocks and rested there as if
their unassailable strength reassured her.
"There was no question of personal persuasion,"
she said icily. "It was a business matter. I told you
so before."
"You don't realise your own attractions, Claudia!"
he said with that horrible laugh.
She shrugged her shoulders and relapsed into silence
in the furthest corner of the car. Later on, when he
asked her to dance with him, she had no reason to
refuse. They often danced together because their steps
suited, "and for the look of the thing," as he had
frankly told her. But his clasp was noxious and sought
to press her nearer while she stealthily held away, his
eyes gloating on her face made her feel a little sick.
She wondered for the first time if he looked so at the
Arab women of Banishment, where he had that house
of which she had known nothing.
She would not dance with him again, though he pes-
tered her and almost sulked when she accepted other
men as partners. She had no lack of applicants to-
night, and her dull surprise was merged in thankfulness
for the means of escape. Sometimes, for all her face
and figure, she had sat out a dance or so, but one
seemed hardly over before another man was begging
for the next. She suspected the cause in herself, and
it made her blush and tremble.
218 EXILE
During the evening it chanced that she was sitting
with Lady Stroud had in fact taken refuge with her
when Barbara came back between the dances to re-
port herself to her chaperon. Perhaps Mrs. Everard's
eyes were sharpened by her own mental experience, but
it struck her as significant that the girl's partner was
Haines when she chose to remember this graceful duty.
Might not another man's time-allowance have been
shortened rather than her fiance's in that brief period
for talk during the "sitting out" ? Haines and she had
been downstairs, sitting in the darkest part of the
paved ground that served the Club for a garden, and
could not plead the excuse of being unable to find some
corner to themselves. Yet Barbara seemed quite con-
tent to leave this tete-a-tete and to sit upon the arm of
Lady Stroud's sofa and chat generally to one and
another in place of having her lover to herself. Mrs.
Everard looked at Rodney Haines with her direct, full
gaze and found his radiance undimmed. He still
moved in the glamour of his happiness, and his quick
smile was ready for the feeblest of jokes with Lady
Stroud. Then she turned to the girl whose long, slight
body was posed so carelessly on the sofa arm, and
found her looking down, with a non-committal air
that promised nothing. The pretty pose of her smooth,
young head was almost as if the weight of hair bowed
it a little from the neck, and Mrs. Everard kept her
fascinated gaze on her till Barbara turned deliberately
to her as if drawn by it.
"Mrs. Everard, I want to know if I may come and
see you some day quite by myself, and not formally?"
she said. The request suggested an impulsive caprice
that should have carried a smile with it; but she did
EXILE 219
not smile, and her empty blue eyes seemed for the first
time as if they were concealing a thought.
"I should like that very much," said Mrs. Everard
gently. "If you will tell me when you are coming I
will deny myself to other visitors."
Barbara nodded as if the suggestion were what she
wished, and then turned to Haines with the same delib-
eration.
"I wish you would get me some lemonade, Rodney,"
she said. "I am so thirsty get it before the next
dance, please."
Haines turned quickly, and his face altered even over
the trivial service. It seemed such a joy to do any-
thing for her that it was pitiful to Mrs. Everard's
understanding eyes. "Shall I bring it to you here?"
he said. "You won't have gone off to dance by the
time I get back, as you did with the Chief Justice, for
instance? Mrs. Everard, Barbara has been sitting in
dark corners with your husband !"
"I hope it was a clean corner, then," said Claudia
composedly. "Some of the Club chairs are very
dusty."
"No no I I will stay here do go and get it, there's
a good boy!" said Barbara hastily; but the instant he
had gone she turned to Claudia again.
"May I come to-morrow morning?" she said almost
eagerly.
"Certainly."
And then Mr. Merryn appeared, for it was his dance,
and was kept waiting until Miss Playfair had received,
and drunk, her lemonade. She went off with him, but
turned, her light hand resting on his arm, and said,
"Thank you !" to Claudia with that same new gravity.
220 EXILE
"Mrs. Everard is looking awfully fit to-night!" re-
marked Merryn.
"Yes," said Barbara, and there was enthusiasm in
her tone. "I think she is the most beautiful person I
have ever seen."
He did not answer this, perhaps because he was
watching for an opening in the crowded room to swing
her into the dancers. He was rather hot already, for
he danced as thoroughly as he played polo ; but Barbara
had no fault to find with the steady rush of their
rhythmic young feet over the floor. In silent vigour
they danced the waltz through, finding the same enjoy-
ment that a young horse does in the pace of his gallop.
When the music stopped they stopped, and Merryn
removed his arm from her waist, and she put her hand
on it again, as methodically as well-drilled soldiers.
To them it was all part of the Game dancing was a
game as much as tennis, and they played it to well-
authenticated rules. Being English they accepted the
Game and its rules as national standards.
"Jolly good tune," said Merryn.
"Yes, I like that 'It might have been' waltz, it was
the best last season," was Barbara's comment; and
they went out of the dancing-room humming it in
concert cheerfully:
"It - might - have - been - if- we had known.
All - our - hearts - told - us-in the-past;
But-another-came-between and-then-the-golden-chance-had-flown ;
It - might - have - been it-might have-been I "
They sat down in two chairs outside the dancing-
room in a very ugly glare of light ; but it could not find
a flaw in Barbara's smooth skin, or hardly detect a line
round Merryn's clean-shaven lips. The two young,
EXILE 221
satiny heads were as bright with health as the coat of
a thoroughbred in good condition.
"Are you playing polo to-morrow?" said the girl.
"Yes. Is Lady Stroud coming down?"
"I wish she were !"
"Why don't you ask her?"
"I think it bores her going every time."
"It doesn't bore you?"
"Oh, no; I love it!"
A pause. Across the passage, not ten feet away,
Mrs. Bunney and Major Dalkeith were carrying on
the customs of an affair suspected by half Exile, talk-
ing in bravado for their world to see, possibly arrang-
ing the sordid details of their next illicit meeting. But
in the young clear eyes of the couple facing them it
mattered not at all. They saw nothing but an uninter-
esting man and a passee woman resting between the
dances even as they were doing. (
"It's the gymkana next week," said Merryn. "You
must come to that."
"Yes, we shall come to that."
"Will you name a pony for me?"
"Yes, if you like."
"I mean, if Haines doesn't mind?"
"Why should he mind?"
"Oh, I don't know."
Blank silence again, while it is to be supposed that
they both pondered as to why Mr. Haines should mind.
The conversation could not be said to be witty or par-
ticularly elevating ; yet Mrs. Everard, meeting them on
their return to the dancing-room, thought she had
never seen two pairs of such serene blue eyes. There
was neither doubt nor disturbance in Barbara's face for
222 EXILE
the minute ; she looked like a careless child again, and
the young man with her was smiling at some stupid
joke, no doubt. Then Mr. Haines appeared to claim
Miss Playfair once more he had all the uneven num-
bers, as the Chief Justice had supposed; but Mrs.
Everard turned away.
She left soon afterwards. She had supposed that her
husband would stay on, as he sometimes did, and the
car return for him. She had told him, briefly, that
she was going home, and he had made no comment,
and with a sensation of relief that felt to her almost
light-headed she went to make her adieux to Lady
Stroud. There was no ceremony observed at the
weekly Club dances, and it was not unprecedented to
leave before the Government House party, who were
staying later than usual on Barbara's account.
"Are you going, Mrs. Everard ?" said Lady Stroud ;
and then in confidence, "I wish I were !" she added.
"May I stay and chaperon Miss Playfair for you?"
asked Claudia, pausing.
"No no; my husband will not leave at present,"
said the Governor's wife, thinking gratefully how kind
Mrs. Everard's eyes could be, and for the fiftieth time
that she was a really nice woman. She wondered also
that men called her face cold; it was so very tender
and womanly at times, and quick with sympathy. "I
am sure it is very good of you to offer," she said. "No
one else would have done so!"
"A chaperon has always seemed to me one of the
lesser martyrs !" said Claudia, and her irresistible upper
lip lifted a little with the suggestion of a smile. "She
has the reputation of a dragon soured by draughts !"
EXILE 223
"I wish we could do away with the custom and let
young people look after themselves !"
"But surely Mr. Haines could look after Barbara
now I"
"I suppose he could ; but the child coaxed me to stay
for a little, to tell the truth," Lady Stroud admitted.
"As long as I am here she thinks the Admiral won't
look at his watch ! He has been rather strict lately in
packing her off to bed."
Claudia did not comment; but as she went to the
dressing-room for her cloak she comprehended from
her own case that Barbara would drive home alone
with Mr. Haines unless the Admiral and Lady Stroud
remained with her, and the impulse that was hurrying
her home by herself lent her a fatal intuition for Bar-
bara. She wished that there were no fear in her own
heart to teach her Barbara's she wished that she had
not known ; and yet she did know, and almost dreaded
the girl's visit to her on the morrow.
Even as she was entering the car a man came out
of the club-house swiftly as if waiting for her and
helped her in. With a revulsion of her senses she
recognised that it was her husband, and that he must
have been skulking in the dark entrance and ready to
join her at the opportune moment. She turned quite
indifferently as she was taking her seat in the car.
"I am sorry to take you away, Edgar. I thought
you would have stayed longer. You need not leave on
my account."
"I am quite ready to come, my dear. I never in-
tended to let you go home alone !"
His solicitude was so unusual as to be a mockery
or a menace. But she leant back in her corner with the
224 EXILE
same quiescence, and hardly spoke on the way home
beyond a few brief comments on Miss Playfair's ap-
pearance, and even then with a half -suppressed yawn.
He, on the contrary, seemed alert to uneasiness. He
fidgeted restlessly and gave the chauffeur impatient
orders, and his voice had a vibrative quality that
sounded over-excited.
"She's a very jolly girl," he said of Barbara, with a
hint of patronage. "Nothing in her at present, but
marriage will alter that. She looks healthy too sort
of girl who could eat an apple with her front teeth.
That's a sure test."
"I think Miss Playfair's mind is as healthy as her
body," said Claudia coldly.
He laughed disagreeably. "Her build is more im-
portant a man looks at those long limbs and clear
skin, and doesn't worry about her mind."
"I think you wrong Mr. Haines !" said Claudia with
biting irony. Had this man beside her always turned
the ugly side of his nature to her like this, and shown
her the coarseness of his outlook, or had she merely
been blind and deaf? Her sharpened senses recoiled
now, at any rate.
"Haines is an ass! always was," said Everard
sharply. "Some emaciated blue-stocking would be
good enough for him and his fiddle, not that girl with
blood in her veins. She told me she thought we were
the handsomest couple in Exile! What do you think
of that?" He laughed a little satisfied laugh and
passed his hand half-fondly over his clean-shaven
mouth.
"I think that Miss Playfair shows the judgment of
extreme youth !" said Claudia, and it was then that she
EXILE 225
yawned. She did not wonder at his objection to
Haines, Everard's appreciation of people being entirely
influenced by their opinion of him. She had always
known this, but had thought it the natural vanity of a
clever man.
When the car drew up at their own bungalow she
went straight through the house and to her own room ;
but her husband had followed her with more speed
than she knew, and his voice at her own door arrested
her. It was lowered to a caressing pitch that she failed
to recognise across a lapse of seven years, and struck
her grotesquely, as a liberty, though he spoke common-
place words.
"Are you going to bed at once, now, Claudia ? Won't
you come and have a chat first ?"
"Is it anything particular?" she said, hesitating, with
a certain cold courtesy. "I am rather tired, and it is
past one o'clock."
"Oh ! I only wanted a little of your company. You
are worth looking at even if you don't talk, you know!
By Jove ! I never saw you looking better than to-night,
Claudia, I could have found it in my heart to make
love to you, in spite of being your husband!" He
laughed a little uneasily. "You are looking superb at
this moment."
She waited patiently, her hand on her door, for
something better worth hearing.
"Come and have some lemonade. I want a drink,
too ! My throat is as dry as the Rocks. You can spare
five minutes. Most women wouldn't need urging!"
He laughed consciously. "The little Playfair girl
would sit up with me till morning."
"I am going to bed I am tired," Mrs. Everard
22CT EXILE
repeated in civil explanation. She looked at him a
moment in slow wonder at his fatuousness. Did he
think to make her jealous?
"Well!" He moved nearer to her, his head a little
bent to her ear, and she felt rather than saw the nar-
rowed eyes like those of a beast of prey. "That's no
reason why you should shut me out ! It's a long time
since I have worried you, isn't it, Claudia? But I'm
your husband, you know I could if I would!"
The woman's figure stiffened, froze, as if cased in
steel. Her lids drooped over her deep-coloured eyes,
and her voice was carefully lowered as she spoke.
"The agreement was mutual!"
"You seemed to prefer it of course, I could not
force you against your inclination! I think I've been
patient."
That was the old Everard, turning words to his own
account, handling the very facts in her favour until
they evidenced against her. She knew that she had
her defence, but the horror of the suggested situation
froze the words in her throat. She could not think of
anything except the one giant reason why the very
thought seemed to pollute her. She even forgot his
recently admitted infidelities the Arab house at Ban-
ishment, a sufficient argument for any wife. She could
think of nothing but Richmond Hervey, and her hus-
band's mere presence near her made her mad.
"It is out of the question," she said, and she had
never pronounced words with so much difficulty.
"Come, Claudia, don't be cruel ! You don't realise
the temptations you have thrust me into by locking me
out of your room. I have always left the decision in
EXILE 227
your hands, but you don't know how hardly you have
treated me."
She listened to the facile lies with a kind of terror
of him growing on her. It seemed to her that he might
persuade Heaven itself of his injuries and her agency
in the case, in spite of the bitter truth. She was being
driven, and felt that she must end this now or never.
With a sudden movement she almost thrust him back
from her, and stood with her back to her bedroom door
as if she guarded her very soul there.
"It is impossible now or ever," she said, speaking
slowly. "I must tell you the price I paid for the
letter!"
"The letter!" Her success was almost more than
she had played for. His face went dark red as if
flushed by wine, and his eyes lightened in a curious
fashion that made them murderous. "Hervey!" he
said. "Not Hervey?"
She merely bowed her head, and there was a long
pause. It seemed to her that some minutes passed
while they stood there outside her door she with her
back still against it, her hands grasping the handle, he
with his shoulders thrust forward and his narrow,
working face like a snake going to strike.
"How was it?" he said at last, and his voice was
hardly more than a whisper.
"You had told me you must have the letter to offer
anything," she said monotonously. "Those were his
terms. He would take nothing else."
"And you consented ?"
"I stayed the night in his house."
He drew away from her, and walked through the
drawing-room to the pillars. Across the long vista she
228 EXILE
could see that the servants had left spirits and soda-
water on the dining-room table, and Everard poured
out some whisky and drank it off neat. She wondered
even at the moment if he needed it, or if this were not
half a dramatic excuse for the spirit, to him for his
sufferings as an injured husband could hardly be those
of a man who had loved and lived with his wife, or
the guarding of his honour very much to a man who
had none. For a minute she stood there still, watching
him. Then she saw him turn towards his own room,
and with nerveless fingers, her hands still behind her,
she opened her bedroom door and slipped in. The turn-
ing of the key in the lock seemed to relax the strain,
for once more she dropped down in her easy-chair and
clasped her hands over her burning eyes. A long, dry
sob wrenched its way from the depth of her lungs
without her will, and shook her whole body. She had
accomplished her own salvation, freed herself of a
danger too horrible to contemplate, but the reaction
of relief was almost more horrible than the moment of
peril. All she knew was that she had defended her
body because it was Hervey's, and her soul stood in
arms for his service.
CHAPTER XIII
"Et puis tu viens a moi, et je frissone,
Tu prends ma main, et tout mon coeur se donne
A toi en un baiser brulant d'emoi,
Car tu es a moi !"
GUY D'HARDELOT.
' I A HE Rocks had claimed their toll. A young man
walking in the sunshine of full day had sud-
denly become dazed, flung up his arms and staggered,
babbling of things that should be locked in decent
silence. Some Arabs, coming in with their camels
from a desert village, found him clawing helplessly
at the lowest stratum of his executioners and took him
into Reserve, where they left him at the hospital.
"The madness of the Rocks is upon him," they said.
"He has felt their breath."
"It is the radiation of the sun's light and heat rays
from the surface of the rocks," said the doctor, trans-
lating Arab imagery into English common-sense. "Not
sunstroke exactly, but a kind of light-stroke, one might
almost say. It affects the eyes. If I wanted to be
laughed at I should say the Rocks exercised a kind of
hypnotism on some people."
He spoke to Rodney Haines, who had met the Arabs
at the mouth of the cutting and directed them to the
hospital. The Colonial Secretary had ridden on him-
self as soon as possible to inquire for the victim, whom
229
230 EXILE
he knew slightly. He was one of the E. T. staff a
nice boy, who sometimes played bridge at the Club.
"Poor Smyth !" he said, and that strained mobile face
of his the face that should have belonged to a cripple
was shadowed by the other man's tragedy as water
reflects light and shade. "I suppose there is nothing
to be done for him?"
"Nothing, except to keep him in the dark. If one
could wipe the reflection of the Rocks off his brain
he'd be well in an hour."
"Will he recover?"
The doctor shrugged his shoulders. "He's young,"
he said in a non-committal tone. "I expect he's been
working too hard and out here too long. The E. T.
staff are all dead keen on wireless just now and spend
too much time up at the installation. The glare's
enough to kill a camel."
He would give no further opinion, but the disaster
haunted Rodney Haines. He was possessed of a
quicker sympathy than his fellows, and could realise
where they only heard. The Arabs had given their
own picturesque version of the finding of Smyth, and
the scene was as patent to Haines as if he had been
present. It seemed to him pitiful to think of Smyth,
upright in the common day one minute and the next
struck out of his course, making a zigzag track with
mazed eyes, to spit his soul out at the foot of the
Rocks. Men usually babbled of their religion, particu-
larly those who had professed none, or smote the
lavaed surface with the palms of their hands. Haines
shivered slightly in the sunshine as he rode back to
Fort, and thrust his pith helmet over his own eyes.
At the gate of Government House he met Barbara
EXILE 231
just going down to pay her promised visit to Mrs.
Everard, and stopped to tell her the news, so that she
carried it with her and Mrs. Everard learned it as soon
as Lady Stroud.
"My husband has gone into Reserve," she said, as
Barbara settled her long limbs in a rocking-chair and
began to swing lazily. "Perhaps he will bring back
better news."
"Is the Chief Justice likely to be back soon?" said
Barbara. She was secretly hoping that he was not,
though she had found him very pleasant at the dance
("jolly" was the word Barbara always used to express
a personality that made no great demands on her
own) ; but she did not know that her feeling was easy
to read in her transparent face until she saw Mrs.
Everard smile.
"I do not think he will be home until this evening
he has business with his clerks," she said quietly.
"Oh, I did not mean " began Barbara in dismay,
and then laughed at herself. "I did hope I should get
you to myself and talk to you," she admitted.
"There is no fear of interruption," said Claudia
gently.
But the girl did not talk. She sat gazing out through
the darkened jalousies for a few minutes with limpid
eyes that did not see the slits of the dazzling outside
world between the shutters. Her long hands were
linked idly on her knee, for even when mentally dis-
turbed Barbara Playfair was not restless, and on the
third finger of the left Mrs. Everard saw a quaint
filigree ring an Arab ring bought in the gold and
silver shops of Reserve, and worn as a pledge until
232 EXILE
the diamonds should arrive from England to take its
place.
"Mr. Everard is very handsome," Barbara said sud-
denly at last.
"Yes," Mrs. Everard agreed composedly. The
acknowledgment did not touch her new vision of his
face. She had decided that Edgar was considered
handsome long ago. "But he is rather too thin just
now."
"I suppose you were very much in love with him
when you married?"
Claudia waited a moment. It did not matter to
herself what she said. So great and wonderful a thing
had happened to her of late that her marriage seemed
to be very far away a trivial thing in comparison,
that had taken place while life was still immature. But
to this girl it might matter very much what she said,
and she spoke slowly, as if feeling her way in the dark.
"I do not think I was so very much in love; I was
very flattered and content, but a girl cannot have de-
veloped the same power of feeling as a man many
years her senior. I seem to remember my own feeling
as one of great surprise that so clever a man should be
satisfied with me as I was then."
Barbara's head turned quickly, and her eyes fixed
themselves on Claudia's face.
"But you must always have been beautiful!" she
said simply.
"Possibly ; but I was very undeveloped, and in some
queer way I knew that, and I meant to grow ! I think
that it is a risk for a man with a very agile brain, like
my husband's, to marry a girl without much experience
of life."
EXILE 233
Those blue eyes, a little wistful, were still fixed on
her face, and she found it hard to meet them. Bar-
bara's thoughts seemed to rise in them like visible
things, and Mrs. Everard had a frightened feeling
that she had only to look to read what was passing in
her mind.
"Did you find it very difficult to be what he wanted,
I mean ?" said the girl rather breathlessly.
"It is always difficult for a woman to be what a
man wants! The most selfish wives often seem the
most successful in married life, because they simply
go their own way and do not care if their husbands
are disappointed."
"I don't think I could do that," said Barbara simply.
"I should feel that I was not playing the game. It is
so dreadful to take so much and give so little."
"Even if the man is satisfied?"
"They are not satisfied," said the girl, with one of
her sudden glimpses of shrewdness. "They are always
waiting for more !"
Mrs. Everard was silent in her turn. She had a
thing to say and found great difficulty in saying it.
But out of her own mighty experience a compelling
force drove her into truth however overpowering the
sound of it. Truth is an inspiration and does not come
to us every day. Therefore with stammering lips and
another tongue it is decreed that we shall speak to
this people.
"There is only one thing that really matters," she
said baldly, "and that is the touchstone of love. If
you have the least spark of love for the man you are
marrying it may grow. If your heart is absolutely
empty of love for any man, it is possible that it may
234 EXILE
come tor your husband, though that is a risk that can
only be justified by results. But if you have the least
spark of love for any other man than the one you are
marrying, then it is sacrilege of the holy of holies. ,
You cannot know what you are doing, or you would
not do it. It is degrading body and soul alike. It is
the sin against the Holy Ghost."
She shut her lips on the last words, and there was
silence. Then, rather suddenly, Barbara rose to go.
She made no conventional excuse about getting back
before the heat, as people nearly always do in Exile
when in a difficulty; she simply held out her hand.
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Everard," she said;
but for what she thanked her Claudia could not tell,
because Barbara was not looking at her. Her eyes
were lowered once more, and her face was rather pale.
"If you hear any more about Mr. Smyth, will you
let me know?" Mrs. Everard said as they parted. The
telephone is such a constant source of communication
that news is never stationary in Exile.
"Yes, I will, certainly," said Barbara. She hesitated
for a second, as if she were going to speak, but she
did not, and a little later Claudia heard the motor roll
out of the compound and down the hill.
She had the bungalow to herself, and the empty
rooms breathed peace and silence save for her own
footfall. Though she had not told Barbara so, she
knew that Edgar Everard would not return that even-
ing, might not return the next day, though for appear-
ance sake it was probable. He had left a note for
her, delivered at breakfast time, in which he said he
had business in Reserve and should pass the night
there, but she had better keep his absence to herself.
EXILE 235
That meant that he was going to Hassan's, or possibly
some house of worse repute of which she knew noth-
ing; but she recognised that her confession of last
night would be the reason he would give for his moral
lapse if accused of it, and quite possibly he did wish
to go away from her and face this new revelation of
her character. She must be out of focus to his mental
vision, long used to seeing her as a mere complement-
ary adjunct to himself. She admitted coldly that he
had his standpoint and had probably suffered a shock.
But his absence was an indefinite relief, and the new
menace of his claim upon her successfully denied made
her almost gay. It seemed to her that she had put her-
self for ever out of his reach by her confession, and,
though she regretted it on Hervey's account, she did
not think that it could harm him even through the in-
genuity of her husband's hate. He could not accuse
Hervey of a wrong the price of which was his own
safety. He had demanded the letter at all costs, and
had put no limit on the means to its possession.
"Et quand divinement ta voix m'enchaine,
Je vois s'evanouir toute ma peine,
Et tout ton etre chante, et vibre en raoi "
Qaudia sang softly to herself as she moved about
the house, and her own voice was rich and happy in
her own ears. At midday the Arab butler brought her
a chit that had been delivered by hand, and then sud-
denly the blood rushed to her heart and beat behind
her eyes, denying her own impatience for the minute
and blinding her eager sight. For it was from Her-
vey, and she forgot that he had broken their compact
in her first recognition of his handwriting.
236 EXILE
"I cannot wait any longer you are trying me too far,"
he wrote, without further beginning. "You promised to
write, to tell me when I might see you. Do you know that
it is three days and over since you left me? You told me
that you loved me if you had, you would not have kept me
without a word. I do not believe it any more it was a ruse
to get what you bargained for; but it was an unnecessary
refinement of cruelty, because I had given my word, and
should have kept it anyhow. I know you will be alone
to-night I heard it by chance. I shall be at my house in
Reserve. If there was any truth in your protestations, you
will find the means of coming out to me waiting in the road
below your house to-night. I will send you a guide but
I do not expect you to come. No woman ever gave me so
beautiful a gift as you offered why should you be any
different to the rest? Perhaps I ought to thank you for
even having invented the lie.
"RICHMOND."
The blood had rushed to Claudia's white face as
she began to read and then left her as colourless as
before. Her eyes grew wet and then full of tender
laughter, and her upper lip lifted a little as if it kissed
the empty air. Of all fierce love-letters that a woman
ever received, surely this was the strangest ! Then her
face clouded a little as if trouble outweighed happiness.
The one thing that was unendurable was that he should
doubt her love. She had no means of reassuring him,
of communicating with him even, and it seemed long
to wait for night. The risk was nothing even if
Everard had returned she would have attempted it
now, in the cause of that doubt; but he did not come,
and towards evening she grew quieter because her mind
was made up and her plans arranged.
Her own room opened on to the verandah, and it
was not impossible to slip past the drawing-room and
EXILE 237
to the steps leading to the compound. The bungalow
was raised above the ground to allow for ventilation,
and she dared not jump from her own balcony on to
the gravel beneath for fear of arousing the Arab staff.
As it was she carried her reputation, almost her life, in
her hand ; but whatever happened he should not doubt
her. That was an outrage on her love and its "beauti-
ful gift." He had stated no time, but she was not
going out to-night, and at ten o'clock she told the
servants to shut up the house and went to her room.
Her heart seemed to beat time to the pulse of the
world, and the deliberate movements of the Arabs
lasted an eternity. At last, when the bungalow was
dark, and the sound even of bare feet had died away,
she wrapped herself in a silk shawl the darkest thing
she had and flung her grey motor veil over her head.
She had already opened her jalousies to the verandah,
and having put out the light she stepped into the dark-
ness.
Beyond her, all along the residential quarter of Fort,
the lights of other bungalows twinkled so brightly that
she pressed herself back against the wall aghast. It
seemed to her that if she could see them so plainly
their owners must see her. Then she remembered that
even if discovered by her servants she could say she
came out for the cooler air. She had often been on
the verandah later than this. She carried her slippers
in her hand and walked noiselessly past the drawing-
room windows, then on to the steps, and so like a
mantled ghost into the compound. It was darker here,
there being no lights from the bungalow. She moved
by the mud wall, and then remembered that the gate
might be locked. It was high and heavy, and to climb
238 EXILE
over was hazardous, though possible. But the latch
gave to her shaking hands, and a minute later she was
in the road, safe from observation, since it led nowhere
but to their own house.
She had not troubled as yet as to how she should
get back, though however late the Arabs locked the
gate it would surely be secure at dawn when she must
return. But all her heart was set on reaching Hervey,
her desire seemed to outrun her feet, and she had no
thought for to-morrow before to-night was fulfilled.
Not twenty yards down the road she fell back with a
suppressed cry, for in the shadow of the high wall that
guarded their own compound rose a tall turbaned
figure. He was a camel-driver, and the distorted out-
line of his camel was dimly visible behind him. She
had not thought how she was to reach Reserve had
perhaps looked vaguely for a car; but in a minute it
flashed across her mind that this was the safest dis-
guise, and she made a hesitating movement towards
the waiting group. The camel-driver did not hesitate
at all. He lifted a long black cloak, the kameese that
Arab women wear out of doors, and wrapped it com-
pletely over Mrs. Everard, head and all. She drew it
quickly across her face, finding the eyelet holes after
a minute, and grasping her arm he led her to the camel
and assisted her to mount. Then the beast rose with
hardly a sound, and swinging round went down the
steep incline, his driver leading him by the nose-rope.
It was a big bull riding-camel, and the motion was
not rough. Mrs. Everard sat on the native saddle, one
foot round the wooden peg, the other resting on the
beast's neck, her figure muffled beyond recognition in
the black kameese. The progress seemed slow com-
EXILE 239
pared to a motor or even a carriage, but the wide shuf-
fling stride carried them over the ground quicker than
appeared possible, and from her high position Claudia
Everard looked round upon the world as if she had
never seen it before. Above her towered the Rocks,
pointing jaggedly amongst the stars, and below her lay
the dark line of the sea and the ships at anchor. Fort
lay behind her, for they were rapidly nearing the Cut-
ting, and no motor cars passed them, for it was too
late for any one to be coming back from Reserve now.
All the life of Fort lay higher up on the rocky ledges,
where people were motoring in and out the curving
roads to each other's bungalows. There was a dinner
at the Bunney's to-night, and a meeting of the Debating
Society after it. She remembered it with a little still
wonder, as at something very far off instead of only a
few miles away. And still that swinging stride of the
camel carried her on through the flashing darkness,
whither her desire went before her. She knew that she
should never forget this ride the mystery of it, the
sense of lawlessness, of high adventure. She could
have laughed like a girl, and her blood raced through
her warm veinsv
Once or twice they passed other camels going home
to Reserve, ridden or led by Arabs, draped figures on
foot hardly discernible in the night for the ragged
natives of the day. Her own camel was so much
swifter and easier that Claudia seemed to pass them all
by as the rider of a thoroughbred passes mere traffic
horses. They came out of the cutting on to the broad
road leading to Reserve, and below them flared the
town, with a far-off mingling of sound going up from
its native quarter, the clamour of strange instruments,
240 EXILE
the chant of voices, and the echo of laughter. Along
the road they swung, past the dark prison and the court
house, and into the narrow byeways of the city. She
had never been to this house of Hervey's, and did not
know where it stood, but it was the same to which he
had invited Lady Stroud and Barbara to tea, and in
the heart of the streets. The Arab driver called to the
passers-by to get out of the way, and they turned and
looked at the veiled figure lifted high over their heads,
but without much curiosity. High-class Mahomedan
ladies go out by night rather than by day, and it was
not unusual for them to travel so. Had Claudia ap-
peared in a car, however thickly veiled, her secret
might have been suspected ; but the great bull camel was
a safe convoy.
They turned into a narrow alley-way, instead of
stopping at the carved doorway where the Govern-
ment House party had alighted. As the camel knelt
down the reek of the streets came up into Claudia's
nostrils, and through and over it all that strange scent
of powdered woods and spices that she had smelt in
Hassan's house. She had a feeling of a dream, oi
having come to her lover in just such a manner ages
ago, as she entered the door in the wall which opened
to the summons of her guide. There was another
man inside with a lamp, which he held high to throw
the light on a narrow flight of stairs, and without a
word having passed Claudia gathered up her draperies
round her and climbed up the stairs before him, emerg-
ing in a narrow room like a cupboard where she stood
still and waited. The silence in which she had jour-
neyed throughout seemed to her as part of the dream,
and it was not broken until the man with the lamp
EXILE 241
opened a door in front of her and said "Al Siyyidha!"
which is the term for a lady of high rank rather than
the more usual "Al Sitt." Then she stepped from the
cupboard-room into the big apartment where Lady
Stroud and Barbara had had tea, and the door closed
behind her.
There was light in the large space before her, though
that portion of it which was open to the upper air
showed only the black velvet of a night sky embroid-
ered with stars. The light came from two old brass
lanterns, and was softened from the white glare of elec-
tricity to a coloured glow. It shone on a great divan
piled with silk cushions, and a mass of potato flower
which was growing in some hidden tub or pot. The
trails of leaves and blossoms were welcome amongst
the tall palms that made a little green oasis near the
staircase, and all round the walls hung dull silk curtains
instead of wall paper. Draperies were so uncommon
in Exile that they made a welcome change. Rich-
mond Hervey was standing on the further side of the
room with his back to the door by which Claudia had
entered, near a bookcase from which he had taken a
volume and was reading it in a desultory fashion, as
if he had not decided whether or no to sit down to it
seriously. At the sound of the Arab's announcement
he tossed it aside, and turned quickly to the dark
veiled figure, standing still where it had entered.
"Claudia!" he said below his breath. "Claudia!"
His voice shook a little, and his hands were not
quite steady as he unwound the black kameese and
took her silk shawl from her. She stood still, letting
the disguising draperies fall from her to the floor,
where they lay unheeded. There was an instant's
242 EXILE
pause, as between the flash of cannon and the rever-
beration, and then his powerful grasp almost lifted her
into his arms, and he bent her head back with the
weight of his kiss. For a full moment her breath was
stayed, and when their lips parted she could hardly say
"How could you doubt me!"
"I never doubted you!" he answered, and there was
a little apologetic laugh in his level eyes. They were
usually the coldest thing about him, and now they were
the warmest. Claudia's own gaze faltered a little be-
neath them, and she flushed as generously as a girl.
"But you told me you did not believe it ! You said
I did not love you !"
"If I hadn't pretended to doubt you, would you have
come to me to-night?"
"Oh, Ritchie!"
"I was obliged to have you. I knew nothing else
would bring you so I wrote that." He stopped to
brush her eyes with his lips, the lids being still lowered.
"Was I very rude?"
"Brutal!"
"I'm not a bit sorry since it answered."
"Perhaps I can make you "
"No, my beauty! You won't spoil it? I have so
little of you, as it is! and it was three days "
His confidence was altering to anxiety, to dismay, when
she lifted her dense lashes and he saw that she was
laughing.
"You do deserve to be punished !" she said. "That
letter was outrageous. Well, what will you do with
me now that you have got me ?"
"Love you to death, I think !"
He lifted her gently and carried her to the divan
EXILE 243
where he laid her down on the piled cushions and sat
down beside her, his face towards her. "Now we can
talk in true Arab fashion," he said. "Do you like my
house, Idol?"
"Yes, indeed I do ! It is all part of the glad adven-
ture. I should like to wear Eastern silks and have that
strange scent in my clothes that Arab women have and
live here with you !"
"It is all yours at the word!"
She laughed a little. "It would be like living in
the Arabian Nights ! I wonder if we should all become
more Eastern and less British if we lived in real Arab
houses like this? I do think that Government bun-
galows are unnecessarily hideous. Look at the one
they have just built for the Admiral out at Health !"
"It is the mixture of styles that worries you," said
Hervey, with ironical gravity. "Of course the lower
part is Doric, but I think the upper part is Early Dog-
kennel!"
They both laughed, for the structure in question re-
sembled nothing so much as an ugly museum. "What
a comfort it is to talk to somebody who can see things !"
Claudia said. "If I had critcised the new Government
House to any one at Fort they would have reminded
me that it cost several thousands to build."
"Some people can never see beyond the , pence
column. Claudia, what is it that makes us so necessary
to each other? I don't know how else to express it,
but the want of you used to make me think I hated
you, and it was not until I understood that I realised
how I had been fighting the strongest thing that ever
came into my life."
"I can only explain it by a theory," she answered
244 EXILE
slowly, as if struggling for the right words. "There
is an idea some scientific men hold it, I believe
that every single soul in the world is only half that
somewhere or other there exists the other half that
makes it whole. It may be a great queen whose other
half is a monk, or a savage, or some poor criminal
working in her own prisons ! but somewhere or other
there is, or was, the other soul that makes her com-
plete. Of course, no one in a million ever chances to
meet with his other self. The whole world may lie
between death may intervene a hundred things may
happen. But if they do meet by some miracle the
desire no, the necessity, as you say is so strong
between them that nothing on earth will keep them
apart except some perversion of their own will. You
and I happened to meet that was all."
"And I was blind!"
"Not really; all that anger in you against me was
simply the resentment of your whole nature at being
thwarted, I suppose. You would have found out some
day quite possibly after I had gone away. That was
what I was afraid of."
He trembled a little, all through his big frame, as
if the risk he had run of losing her came home to him
suddenly. "I want to feel sure," he said hoarsely. "I
want to take you now and leave nothing to chance.
This is not a thing to play with."
But a shadow fell on her face. "It might injure
you, Ritchie! I ought to warn you I had to tell
Edgar Everard what I had done."
She lifted her eyes steadily to his face, not afraid
of condemnation, though as if asking for his opinion.
But he nodded, unmoved.
EXILE 245
"Quite right; I am glad you did so. I hope he
understood ?"
"Only what I told him." She was silent a moment,
and then her speech grew more hurried. "It was
necessary to tell him it was my own safeguard."
"What!" He laid his hands on her shoulders and
gripped her as if he feared to let go of her for one
instant. "He claimed his rights?"
"He has none !" she said, lifting those wine-coloured
eyes in quiet reproach. "But I had to make it under-
stood."
"You must not go back to him you must not leave
me again !" he said, and his voice was not quite under
control.
"Oh, yes ; it is quite safe now. That is why he went
into Reserve. I do not think the subject will ever be
mentioned between us again." She moved a little
restlessly, as if putting something distasteful away
from her. "Let us talk of something else," she said
"something happy."
"Then we shall have to go back three days."
There came a flood of sweetness into her face. "It
does seem an age since, doesn't it?" she said. "And
yet I have been very content. It was such a relief to
know that you knew."
"I know better now than I did then," he said slowly,
and she saw that it was true. There was something
gentler and more reverent in him, something more sat-
isfied and less eager to grasp at actual bliss. He sat
beside her with her hands in his, but he was so happy
in her nearness that he did not even kiss her again.
"I've been clearing things up getting ready for the
time when we are together."
246 EXILE
"I think I shall be able to go to Europe in a few
weeks," she said. "But if it can't be done that way
I will simply go."
"And meet me at the Port?"
"Somewhere."
He sat and looked at her again, with that gaze that
made her half shy and sweetly ashamed. "Do you
know that I thought you were in love with Haines?"
he said, and then drew a deep breath. "If you had
been, how it would have altered the world left it in
the dark!"
"Rodney Haines!" she said, and her dreamy eyes
came wide open with amazement. "Oh, Ritchie, how
could you be so intensely stupid ? I told you you were
stupid the other night, didn't I! How could I be in
love with Rodney Haines?"
"I don't know now. But you always seemed to
like him so much."
"Why, so I do. So do you. He is so pitiful, and
he will have to suffer so !"
"He is an artist and then his music is enough to
make any one love him. When he plays "
"When he plays I always want to kiss some one
else 1" said Claudia, and her mouth curved to an uncon-
scious invitation which he accepted.
"So you think Haines is going to suffer through
that girl?" he said while he still leaned over her, his
voice a caress that had nothing to do with the subject.
"She does not care for him at all!" said Claudia
thoughtfully, outlining with one slight finger the thick
growth of the grey hair on his temples. "She is not
capable of doing so. If she had been let alone she
EXILE 247
would have fallen in love with Mr. Merryn in the
natural course of things."
"With Merryn!" said Hervey, raising his level eye-
lids a little and smiling down at her. The smile, like
the love in his voice, had nothing to do with the sub-
ject. He did not care in the least about the Flag-
Lieutenant, but the touch of Claudia's fingers on his
temples was giving him acute pleasure. "But I don't
think they would ever think of such a thing."
"I said in the natural course of things," said Claudia
calmly. "They have never had a chance to think ! Mr.
Haines, with his intense personality, his eagerness, his
intensity, has swept things very much out of their
natural course."
He looked at her, still smiling, and drew the cool
palms of her hands again against his face. The harsh
contact of the clean-shaven skin ran over her nerves
like electricity. "How do you know all this, Wisdom ?"
he said.
"The girl came and talked to me more than she
knew. Her trouble is making her almost expressive.
Before that she was a fine, empty thing. Love is a
great education, Richmond ; even to come near it, when
you don't share it, is something."
"Yes," he said gravely. "It is impossible to be un-
conscious in the presence of a god, though you do not
worship and depart unblessed."
And then they were both very silent for a minute,
and the night went solemnly across the heavens with
all its stars in procession.
"Are you tired ?" Hervey said at last. "You had a
long ride here, and it is late."
248 EXILE
"A little. But this divan is very restful. And I
thought I should have to go back soon !"
"Not yet not for some hours. Would you like
to come up on to the roof and look at the city?"
He put his arm round her and led her up the stairs
to the women's quarters, where Barbara had protested
against the lack of liberty. They were safe from pry-
ing eyes under the high coping of the roof, but through
the narrow slits in the masonry Claudia could see far
more than had seemed possible of the packed white
buildings and the gulfs of streets running through
them. Hervey's house was higher than those near it,
and the uneven angles and elevations of the roofs
around made Reserve a city touched with magic, a
phantom jumble designed by genii. There was no
moon as yet, but it was quite visible by starlight.
" 'And at night we'd find a town,
Flat-roofed, by a star-strewn sea!"
she quoted,
"Where the pirate hoards come down
To a long- forgotten quay' "
He laughed, and took up the quotation.
" 'And we'd meet them in the gloaming,
Tarry pig-tails, back from roaming,
With a pot of pirate ginger for the likes of her
and me!'"
"Do you like ginger?"
"Of course, if it's pirate ginger! Was there ever
a more Eastern description? 'We could smell the
mules and musk!' I am so glad you know Chalmers."
EXILE 249
"I read a good deal. I have often read myself to
sleep up here, when there's a moon." ,
"Do you always sleep here?"
"Always, when I am in Reserve. The dawn wakes
me."
She threw her head back with a long sigh of pleas-
ure, to look up into the sky and see Orion, belted
with stars, the drawn sword in his hand. Of all the
constellations she loved him best, and it seemed as
if the angel with the flaming sword kept watch above
her.
"He has unlocked the gates of Paradise again,"
she said dreamily. "Richmond, I can think of noth-
ing more beautiful than to have the free sky over
my head and the stars to shine on me till morning
with you." She felt his hand clasping her own, and
the growing union between them that needed less of
touch and yet was divinely closer.
The streets had fallen upon quiet. All the busy
life of the city seemed to have died down with its
flare of lights, and in that sleeping mass of packed
humanity there were none more quiescent than them-
selves. The night went solemnly across the heavens,
with all its stars in procession.
*****
In the dawn she rode back to Fort, the forward
swing of the camel seeming too hasty now in carry-
ing her away from great content. The soundless
tread of the great beast's spreading feet and the stride
of the barefoot driver gave her the same dreamlike
impression of a dream moving in a dream through
the half-tones of the early day. The Arab is not an
early riser in Reserve, or if he is he keeps within his
250 EXILE
silent house, for the mud-caked streets were empty
save for the few natives coming into the town, who
looked with indifference at her as some Mahomedan
lady starting on a journey into the desert. Beneath
the kameese she sat in tranquil silence, her grave,
long-lashed eyes on the broad road and the Rocks,
which were stabbing the colourless sky with colour-
less outlines. When they emerged from the Cutting
the first faint light from the coming sun was quick-
ening the east, but she would be home before he rose.
She had not thought as to how she was to get into
the compound again, but as they reached the gate the
Arab driver stopped his camel close beside it, and
she found that without his kneeling down she could
step from the saddle on to the broad topmost bar
with perfect ease, and to descend on the other side
was easy.
"That is Na-sib!" said the Arab under his breath,
with his race's belief in luck or Providence.
He took the black kameese from her as she reached
the ground, flung it on to the camel, and disappeared
with the same swift noiselessness.
Claudia walked quietly up the steps to the closed
door, without haste or uneasiness, stepped aside on
to the verandah, and made her way along it to her
own room. The jalousies were unlatched as she had
left them; she slipped out of her clothes and into
bed, and when the ayah came to call her some hours
later she was sleeping sweetly.
CHAPTER XIV
"Not unto us, O Lord ;
Nay, Lord, but unto her be all things given
May life and light and earth and sky be blasted
But let not all that wealth of love be wasted.
Let Hell afford
The pavement of her Heaven!"
HENRY CUST.
IT happened that the next morning was the one
on which Mrs. Everard had a lesson in Arabic.
Her teacher arrived about ten o'clock, and they sat
in the hard, clean drawing-room with the electric
fans going, pouring over their Arabic grammar, or
in limited conversation about "Kaleel wa Dineah"
(the "Arabian Nights"). Said was a young man,
with the most beautiful type of Arab face, beardless
as yet, deep coloured, and grave with the gravity of
his race. He smiled seldom, but when he did so it
was so winning that it made Mrs. Everard greedy to
see it again. She lay in wait for it throughout the
lesson, tempting him with her poor Arabic, or in-
quiring for his family. He was a Bedouin and mar-
ried to one wife already, though he looked barely
twenty. Mrs. Everard was a diligent pupil, but she
left the problems of Nahwooh, and turned from "Ism
kana" and "naib Alfael" to beguile him into local
interests.
"Is your house finished yet, Said?"
251
252 EXILE
"Not yet, ya Sitt. But in a few weeks it will be
ready."
"And where are you living now?"
"With my family. There are many houses in the
village."
"I must come and see your village some day, Said.
Is it far?"
The Arab looked pleased. He had a deep admira-
tion for the beautiful wife of the Chief Justice,
though he hated the latter with all the fearlessness
of his race and for reasons which Claudia did not
even suspect. Everard's excesses in Banishment were
inevitably known to the tribes as far as Health and
out beyond into the real country of Arabia. He
was "ibn kelb" (the son of a dog), and infinitely de-
graded from the Bedouins' point of view, since he
not only stole his neighbour's wife if he could get
her but drank and took cocaine. Said knew far
more of the private life of Claudia's legal husband
than any white man in Exile, where it was only the
outline of a scandal, and it concerned him that Sitt
Indahu Everard should remain in the possession of
such a one. Had it been his own sister or cousin he
would have made her quarrel his own, though an
Arab wife is so much the property of her husband
that she has hardly any wrongs; but Said was suffi-
ciently educated to know that the position of a Euro-
pean lady makes such scandals as Everard's a gross
insult to her.
He answered Claudia's inquiry by stating that his
village was some two miles from Golgotha, where
Hervey Sahib had his house.
"If ya Sitt would tell me the day on which she
EXILE 253
would be pleased to visit us I would bring my jamal
for her and show her the way."
"But if I ride the jamal (camel), Said, you must
go on foot, and it will be a long walk for you over
the sand!" said Claudia kindly. Her heart had leapt
in her side at the mention of Hervey's bungalow,
for she saw an opportunity for a meeting with him
after the expedition. She could order a gharry to
drive out to Golgotha, and, leaving Said and his
camel there, stop at the bungalow on her way home.
"It is not too far, and the jamal is a young one,
so that I must lead him," said Said, and one of his
rare smiles made his face beautiful exceedingly. "Ya
Sitt would be frightened if he started to jump and
play!"
"I should not only be frightened I should fall
off!" said Claudia laughing. "I have seen a 'buck-
ing' jamal" (she used the English word). "But I
am very fond of jamal-riding, Said, and I shall like
to come. Would next Saturday suit you?"
Saturday would suit Said very well, and the mat-
ter was arranged. They had talked in Arabic
throughout, and Claudia had spoken fairly fluently.
The lesson was now over, and the young teacher
made his farewell, moving with the grace of a free
people, and neither awkward nor subservient in his
obeisance. Said was a teacher in one of the Govern-
ment schools in Reserve, and spoke English with
more ease than Claudia did Arabic; but his home
was out in the desert, and he rode out there on cer-
tain days in the week.
As he departed he met a visitor coming in, who
turned sharply and stared at him with a lack of
25.4 EXILE
manners that Said associated with white men. He
disliked the Crown Prosecutor nearly as much as the
Chief Justice, and found him hideous into the bar-
gain. Murgatroyd's ungainly body and livid face,
with its cavernous eyes, seemed to the young Arab
those of a person accurst by God. Indeed, he shud-
dered, and made a sign to avert the evil eye as they
passed each other.
Mr. Murgatroyd was fortunate in finding Mrs.
Everard willing to receive him, for at this hour she
usually denied herself to visitors. But she had hardly
risen, and was still fingering the lesson books when
he was ushered in.
"Good-morning, Stanley!" she said quietly. "Ed-
gar is still in Reserve ; he went over yesterday about
the Haroun Ali case, I think. Have you come to
luncheon?"
"No, thanks! I know Edgar is in Reserve I met
Hassan." He spoke jerkily, with more than his usual
awkwardness, which she attributed to that strange-
ness of a few days since and his betrayal of himself,
or, even more probable, to his difference with Ever-
ard on her account
"Who was that young man who. was leaving the
house as I came?" he said suddenly. His long fin-
gers had seized and were crumpling the pages of one
of her text-books, and she noticed the signs of agi-
tation with wonder.
"A young man!" she repeated slowly. "I don't
know. I have seen no one, I think, except yourself
this morning?"
"Well he was an Arab; but he was coming out
EXILE 255
of your front door for all the world like a whit*
man!"
"Oh!" (She almost laughed at the race distinc-
tion, though it was common in Exile.) "That was
Said, my Arabic teacher. He is in the Government
schools, and I cannot treat him quite like the serv-
ants."
"He is no better!" he said brutally. She glanced
at his twitching face, and thought she liked him least
when the bullying side of his nature was uppermost.
She had heard his views on the natives before, and
always suspected them as gathered from Everard.
"Arabs are all of a piece," he said.
"What, Hassan? Jacobs?" she asked with faint
sarcasm, naming the two most powerful of the mer-
chants in whose grip this man as well as her husband
might be supposed to be. "I could hardly ask Has-
san to go out through the servants' quarters, if he
came to see Edgar!"
He writhed a little, visibly, as if her irony were a
whipcord she hardly knew that she wielded, but he
did not pursue the subject, though some connection
with it might be in his mind unknown to her. For
what he said was, "I could not sleep last night this
arguing with Edgar I am useless against him!"
"I know," she answered with her old gentleness.
"I am so sorry I am afraid I was the cause." Her
wonderful eyes dwelt on him pitifully, unconscious
of their own tawny velvet. But the spell of them
seemed to hypnotise him again, for he stammered as
he tried to speak.
"Couldn't sleep up all night went for a walk
along the Reserve road "
256 EXILE
Her breath seemed suddenly to stop, and her heart
flashed a message of danger to her brain. "Up all
night" and "On the Reserve road I" What had he
seen? What had he thought? Then her forces mar-
shalled themselves to defend Hervey whatever hap-
pened to her, and her calm was quite unbroken as
she spoke.
"Poor Stanley! You ought to see a doctor if it
goes on. Insomnia is the beginning of the end out
here."
"I was down on the road down there," he went
on, unheeding her, and pointing to the windows
fronting on the burning world. "And I saw an
Arab, with a camel carrying a woman come up
here."
"Up here!" said Claudia in a slow puzzled tone.
"Are you sure? What time was it?"
"Just at dawn. They passed me on the road."
"And did you see them come back? For there is
no outlet this way."
"No," he said, and his eyes fell. "I went on up
to the Garrison I did not want to spy!"
There was silence for a moment, while she drew
her breath. If what he said were true, he had not
seen the Arab return without her. But the suspicion,
anyway, must be dealt with.
"Well, if they did come here, I can only suppose
one of two things either it was some Arab from
the desert who had missed his road and discovered his
mistake, or else he came to see someone in the house-
hold. One never knows what one's servants are
doing, of course, but if I inquire they will only tell
me lies."
EXILE 257
Her steady eyes were looking straight at him, com-
pelling his stealthy glances that could not meet them
fairly. Poor wretch! he had never been much more
than a pale reflection of her husband, and now that
that support was removed he seemed all abroad,
floundering helplessly to stand on his own feet in a
new position. She pitied him intensely as she watched
the emaciated hands playing with her lesson-books,
for in the warmth of her happy love her nature was
expanding and ripening. She found herself capable
of an infinite charity, where of old she would have
been cold and impatient.
"What did you think the Arab was coming here
for?" she said. "What did you think yourself?"
He put his hand to his head, in a helpless, bewil-
dered fashion like a child might do. "I don't know
I was afraid" he began. Then, "Do you think
it could have been the same man ?"
"The same man!" she echoed blankly. "What
man?"
"That boy that teacher who has just gone," he
said hastily, as if bitterly ashamed and yet obliged
to speak. "It occurred to me as I came in. He gives
you lessons he is young, and handsome in the Arab
fashion. He might have known that Edgar was
away "
"Said!" she exclaimed, her breath almost taken
away by the outrageous suggestion. "Said seeking
to get into my house at night or in the dawn! Oh
no no ! He is a strict Mahomedan, and newly mar-
ried. You do not know the better type of Arab.
Stanley, I think Said would kill you if he could ever
dream what you thought of him!"
358 EXILE
His eyes fell again from their wild glance at her.
"It is very natural!" he said in a low voice. "You
never see yourself you do not seem to think of your
own power as other women do." He gave a long
sigh, and an uneasy silence fell between them. Then
he turned from her as abruptly as he had begun the
interview. "Well, I thought it right to tell you," he
said. "I'll go now; you want rest after your les-
son."
"Wait a moment, Stanley," she roused herself to
say. "Even if you won't lunch I want to speak to
you. I have something to ask you."
He sat down heavily in the chair she indicated and
leaned his elbow on the table, making a penthouse
of his hands over his miserable eyes. From that
screen he could look his fill at her without appearing
to do so.
"Since Edgar first spoke to me about his plans,
and and the letter," she said thoughtfully, "I have
had time to think a little, and to take in what he
said, as I did not do at once. This Lestoc case,
Stanley it went against the man, of course, and
ruined him financially?"
He shrugged his shoulders doggedly. "He got in
Edgar's way!" he reminded her, as one to whom he
need no longer wear a mask.
She did not flinch. "Yes," she said patiently. "But
he had nothing besides his business, had he? No pri-
vate means ? I think I heard once that he was a pros-
perous man, but everything depended on his trade."
"I daresay."
"Of course, no one could discuss it with me, and
so I never heard. But his wife and children I did
EXILE 259
not know Mrs. Lestoc, but I have seen her in Re-
serve. I am sure there were children."
"I daresay!"
"And what became of them all those months he
was in prison? And afterwards, when he went to
the hospital? And now, that he is dead!"
"I believe there was some money at first. And
lately there has been a subscription."
A sudden memory flooded Mrs. Everard's mind.
"Mrs. Vanburen and her subscription list!" she said
below her breath. "And I never took it in!" She
remembered the date of that call, and Mrs. Vanburen
asking her to subscribe. It was just before she drove
out to Hervey's bungalow for the fateful interview.
She had mentioned it to him. No wonder that she
had not grasped the object of the charity.
"It seems to me that I am in some sort respon-
sible," she said quietly, "as Edgar is not. At least
I feel it so. Will you find out for me exactly how
Mrs. Lestoc is left, Stanley?"
He glanced at her with those craven eyes, attract-
ed almost to awe. "Edgar will not approve," he said
quickly. "He will be angry. Particularly if it is
known that you are doing anything. Have you taken
that into calculation?"
"I am not taking that into calculation!"
The light caught her golden hair and seemed to
make radiant its dull coils. He blinked at it as if
dazzled. "Very well," he said; "I will find out for
you."
"And this case of Azeopardi," she went on re-
lentlessly. "I understand from Edgar that these
people also stand in his way?"
260 EXILE
"Yes."
"And they will have to go?"
"Yes."
"Except for that they are offenceless? They are
honest traders?"
Again he shrugged his shoulders. "As traders go!
They are none of them purists."
She seemed to meditate for a minute; for her
bowed lips closed one on the other, the irresistible
curve of the upper intensified. At last: "I think I
will speak to Edgar about this," she said simply.
There was that in the brief sentence that left him
stunned. His own daring in opposing Edgar had
seemed to him great; but he had been driven by the
all-sufficing cause of this woman before him. In
that his love had ennobled him to battle, above fear,
and without the thought of failure. Her champion
could not fail. But he had never gone so far as to
question the Chief Justice in his ruthless march upon
other men's rights never questioned his use of the
weapon of office in his hands. Now he felt that
Claudia was going to do both, and the very idea ap-
palled him. He could not even put the thought into
words, and rose a little dizzily to take this new
problem into the outer world.
"Good-bye!" he said baldly, not even offering her
his hand. "If I can serve you in any way you
know ." He faltered and stopped. His new
feeling was too strong for him ; it left him incoherent.
"Yes, I know," she said gently. "Good-bye, Stan-
ley!"
CHAPTER XV
"Indeed I know you thought you loved me, sweet;
You pitied me, and loved my love of you;
In all I said you heard my heart's swift beat.
'This heart that loves me so is warm and true,
A flower to wear, not trample 'neath my 'feet.'
Thus to yourself you thought that dear, dead day,
We sitting in the twilight still and grey,
Your hands in mine. When hands of lovers meet,
Not long, oh Love, before the lips meet, too."
PHILLIP BOURKE MARSTON.
r I A HE early morning in Exile is the best time for
photography, unless one goes out an hour be-
fore sunset. At midday the light is too rapid, and
the shadows have retreated, so that even the Rocks
look flat as paper and their tortured sides but slightly
grooved. Miss Playfair used to carry her kodak
regularly in her early walks with Mr. Haines, which
were now orthodox and unquestioned. Later in the
morning, when the Colonial Secretary was absorbed
in his duties, she would sometimes develop them
herself, for otherwise they must wait until someone
was going into Reserve, where there was a photog-
rapher. He was a Japanese, and did a thriving trade
between the idleness of the garrison and the vanity
of the richer Arabs; but Miss Playfair infinitely pre-
ferred to risk her films herself to waiting till it
should please Shushi to develop them for her, and
261
262 EXILE
she had the argument on her side that it is ill to keep
films on the spool in Exile. The Admiral had con-
trived a dark room for her at Government House
a mud-walled erection roofed with thatch after the
fashion of Arab villages, which filled Lady Stroud's
soul with the fear of fire. She had a secret vision of
Barbara absorbed in her pyro and bromide and slow-
ly cooked to death, or of Mr. Haines rushing in to
rescue her and their common demesne in a kind of
holocaust; but the Admiral was far more concerned
with the vivid light that would filter in through every
breathing space and the necessary ventilation and red
lights. There was sufficiency of water, though it was
precious, for Hervey's pipes did not extend to the
dark room; but the young sitt was popular, and the
Arabs carried many pails for her to "wash her pic-
tures."
The films once developed they dried quickly, and
then it was necessary to print them to see if they came
out creditably. Again, Shushi took too long, and
Barbara preferred to use her own frames even if she
took the proofs to him to be toned and fixed, for by
that time she had generally wearied of her labour.
There was only one place where the films would
print slowly enough to avoid a sudden rush of black-
ness that seemed to envelop the picture even while
one looked at it, and that was in the little room or of-
fice where the Flag-Lieutenant and Mr. Smyth, the
secretary, conducted their clerical duties. Mr. Smyth,
however, was frequently a work in the more impor-
tant office at the dockyard, and Mr. Merryn had sole
possession of the one at Government House, to which
he had a bedroom attached, both rooms being built
EXILE 263
on, like an afterthought, to the main bungalow. He
had also a flat roof, where he preferred to sleep and
was most enviably fanned by the cool night wind
that came off the sea; and so it came to pass that he
used his legitimate bedroom as a smoking-room, and
at first he used to retire there precipitately if Miss
Playfair wanted to stand her frames up in the office
window, until the young lady showed signs of vis-
ible resentment at this vanishment.
"Of course, if I am interrupting your work, I will
wait until you are out!" she said one day, standing
in the open doorway of the office. Behind her the
shadeless courtyard made an aching background so
that her white figure looked black, and only the edges
of her hair were burnt in gold. "I only want to put
the frames in the window; it won't take a minute.
And Uncle Jonathan told me to print them here!
He says it's the only place."
The Flag-Lieutenant had arisen precipitately, and
advanced to meet her with the instinct to perform
some service that was part of his duties. (Mrs.
Bunney always called it "A.D.C.-ing.")
"Oh, of course!" he said hastily. "Do come in,
Miss Playfair! May I put the frames up for you?
Won't you sit down while they print?"
"I don't want to interrupt you!"
"Please don't mind me; I want to find a list for
the dinner party next week that Lady Stroud gave
me. It's in my room."
Barbara looked at him with the limpid directness
of a child. "I am driving you away! I won't print
photographs here any more!" she said simply.
He flushed up to the short, curling hair, for all his
264 EXILE
tan. He was something of a schoolboy, this big
young man with all the amazing knowledge of the
Navy crammed into his good-looking head, and she
embarrassed him. He knew, for a reason that she
did not, that he ought to go into his bedroom and
hunt for mythical lists of dinner guests, but before
those child's eyes he was helpless.
"But you must stay to see that the films do not
over-print!" he said as simply as she.
"Very well, then; don't go away!" said Barbara.
"You make me feel a perfect nuisance when you do."
So again it came to pass that he stayed, and
reached up for the frames for her to open them and
see how the films were printing and then put them
back again. Merryn had beautiful hands for a man,
large and shapely, and he did not freckle as so many
fair men did in Exile. As they stood side by side
bending over the frames they were as unsmiling and
matter-of-fact as two children, and their conversa-
tion left nothing to be desired.
"I'm afraid that one's over-exposed. It's too
dense to print properly."
"It was the light over the sea. I never can man-
age it properly."
"It is very difficult to photograph in Exile at all."
"And yet it seems as if it ought to be so easy."
A pause, while another film was inspected and pro-
nounced "done," the two bright young heads almost
touching the two pairs of hands quite touching
over their task, but never losing their steadiness.
"Have you ever tried a stand camera?"
"No; it is so cumbersome to carry."
"It is, rather. But one gets some good results."
EXILE 265
"Plates are better than films, too, in a hot climate."
"Yes. I think that's the last. Can I do anything
more for you?"
"No, thanks."
After which Miss Playfair would carry off her
films, and Mr. Merryn return to his duties. He gen-
erally spoilt a good many pens between her departure
and the luncheon gong. Perhaps it was unfair to
interrupt him, after all.
On the day that she called on Mrs. Everard in the
morning she did not, of course, come to print pho-
tographs. But that afternoon she was at polo with
Lady Stroud, and the following day she had some
pictures of the game that were rather successful.
"Look! that's Mr. Yarrow scoring," she said, hold-
ing the films up to the light. "Haven't they come
out well? And I only used the fiftieth part of a sec-
ond."
"It must be a slower game than it looks," said
Merryn, with due gravity for the important fact.
"By Jove! Shushi never attempted anything like
this. He said it was impossible to photograph polo."
He stood a trifle behind her as she held the films up
to the light, his shoulder brushing hers. And now
for the first time both of them seemed conscious that
there was something wrong. Merryn moved to the
window, altering the opening a little. The office was
the only part of the Government bungalow that had
real windows instead of jalousies and a verandah out-
side which mitigated the light and made it possible
to print. Barbara took her frames to the darkest
side of the room, and with her back to the light be-
gan to put in the films and printing papers. Then
266 EXILE
she stood them up in the window, and sat down for
a minute while they printed. Merryn was less em-
ployed and more at a disadvantage. He shuffled the
papers on his writing-table, and wondered where the
Colonial Secretary was, and what he was doing, at
this particular, desperate moment. Also it occurred
to him that he would like to go home, or to be ap-
pointed to another ship. He did not think the posi-
tion of flag-lieutenant was good enough.
"I've got you in that second chukker," said Bar-
bara. "It's very good. I'll give you some copies if
you like."
"Oh, thanks! I will send one to my sister," said
Merryn. It is possible that he remembered how one
usually figures in amateur photography, and selected
his sister as a harmless recipient; but the suggestion
met with Barbara's entire approval.
"Yes, do!" she said; and then a little shyly, "I
didn't know you had a sister!"
"She is older than I am."
"Is she married?"
"Yes soldier-man. She's a good sport."
"Oh, she would be your sister, I mean." That
was unconscious flattery. "I can shoot a little with
a twenty-bore. I'm better at that than music!" said
Barbara below her breath. She must have felt her
own shortcomings keenly, for she was rather white.
"I'll see if your pictures are done," said Merryn,
and swung round to the window.
He gave them into her hands, but did not now look
over her shoulder. She handed the prints to him
one after another, and he expressed approval, even
of that in which he figured. And indeed, though only
EXILE 267
a snapshot, it was excellent the turn of the young
active figure, the tiny glimpse of a face, too small to
be grimaced and yet suggestive of him.
"I suppose I ought to give you the film one gen-
erally does if one takes people unawares," said Bar-
bara breathlessly. "But I should like to keep it, if
I may!"
"Oh, of course; it's awfully good never saw a
better of that backhander on the near side," said
Merryn stoutly. "It's a topping game, isn't it!"
"Topping. I wish I could play."
"You're fond of games?"
"I think they're the only things worth doing ex-
cept sport," said Barbara candidly. "I daresay I
shall like muddling round drawing-rooms later on;
but at present well, I'd rather look on at a game
than stay indoors!"
His eyes met hers by mistake and kindled. He
really had not meant to look at her, or to sympathise,
but when your own point of view comes out of the
mouth of the girl you a girl like Barbara Playfair,
human nature is sometimes too quick for training.
"Yes, I know," he said. "And then one learns a
lot by watching. Haven't you noticed that?"
She looked at him again with her empty blue eyes,
and her lips were parted.
"How well you understand me !" she said suddenly.
It was pathetic, because most people would have said
that there was little to understand. But even her
transparency had been mistaken for depth, and she
had suffered in striving to be what she was not.
Perhaps he realised the pathos in a sort of mad rage
that he must not help her. Perhaps at the moment
268 EXILE
the discovery of their mutual attraction was the only
thing that existed in their universe. They had drawn
closer together in their examination of the photo-
graphs, and before either realised it the two smooth
young faces had met. Then Barbara flung herself
down at the table again, burying her head in her out-
stretched arms, and Merryn had drawn back almost
as if stunned. There was no sound in the little office
but the girl's sobbing.
"You mustn't do that please!" he said at last,
almost roughly, laying his hand on her shoulder.
"My fault entirely apologise impulse "
She raised her head, but turned away her tear-
stained face, her shoulders still heaving. "We both
did it!" she said with her inartistic honesty. "It
wasn't you more than me. But what I feel is
it's not playing the game!"
Dreadful thought! A spoilt future or the muddle
of three lives would be better than this lost ideal.
His face expressed the concern he felt.
"I know," he said. "I won't offend again on my
honour !"
"I know you won't," said Barbara simply. "We're
on our guard now. But please don't don't avoid
me. I should feel so bad!"
She did not stretch a hand to him, but he came and
stood by her side, very manly and very British and
very unromantic in his concern. "I meant to go home
to get out of it somehow," he said. "But I'll do
anything you like dear!"
"I'm going in a few weeks," she said in a small
and woe-begone voice. "My engagement has
EXILE 269
changed our plans." She gulped over the word, but
swallowed it bravely.
"All right; I'll see it out. Don't bother," he said.
He looked down on the bright, smooth head for a
minute as a man might look his last, and he would
have been less than a man if his arms had not felt
very empty. But it never occurred to either of them
that they were unreasonable martyrs in their moral
attitude. It was their creed to play the game, and
this was their idea of playing it.
Merryn turned away, and collecting the photos put
them carefully into the black envelopes and laid
them on the table beside her. Barbara gathered them
up, and without any further farewell walked blindly
into the glare of the courtyard and back to the main
portion of the bungalow.
She was not present at luncheon, pleading a head-
ache, and as Mr. Haines was not present either she
was advised to lie down. People very frequently get
headache in Exile from the glare, and it is a real ail-
ment and not the convenience of excuse. Merryn
was not more silent than usual, and the Admiral had
Major Dalkeith to talk to, as he had fortunately been
invited. At tea Miss Play fair appeared much as
usual, her eyes a little heavy perhaps, but as frankly
indifferent to criticism.
"Yes, I know I look as if I had been crying," she
said composedly. "I thought myself how unbecom-
ing it was!"
Rodney Haines had come up to Government House
in time for tea and to take the ladies down to the
Club afterwards. He looked at his fiancee with his
strained gaze a little comprehensively; but he was
270 EXILE
the first to laugh that spontaneous, rare laugh that
made him younger than Barbara herself, or than Mer-
ryn, standing in attendance by the tea table as usual.
"Isn't that like a girl!" said Haines delightedly.
"She has probably had a shave of sunstroke, and she
is very annoyed because it is unbecoming! Babs,
I shall forbid your venturing out of the house between
breakfast and tea-time." He went closer to her and
dropped his jesting tone, the pupils of his eyes a little
distended as if with unacknowledged fear. "You
are not really ill, my darling? Is your head still
aching?"
"No, not now." The girl moved restlessly under
his gaze, but did not blush. "I felt very seedy about
midday."
"What had you been doing?"
"Nothing particular. Oh, I did go across to the
office to print some photos about twelve o'clock," she
said bravely.
"Too late for you to be out in the sun ; but it's only
a step across the courtyard 1" His common-sense
followed his anxiety, and seemed to puzzle him. Bar-
bara felt the double strain of her own misery and his
fatal intuition, and grew impatient in her youth.
"Never mind please don't fuss over me, now or
ever!" she said irritably. "I should simply hate it.
I'm all right. Get me some tea."
She flung herself down in a corner of the sofa from
which Lady Stroud was dispensing tea, and tried to
keep her eyes from straying to the tall white figure
beside her aunt. Merryn was leaning his hand against
one of the pillars that supported the bungalow, and
the whole weight of his body appeared to be thrown
EXILE 271
on to it, to judge from the position of his fingers. It
had made the finger-nails quite white, and Barbara's
keen eyes had caught the inner meaning of that fierce
pressure, and understood it and sickened to under-
stand. If it were to be always like this either he or
she must go home after all at once. They were
both brave enough to play the game, but she could
not bear it dragged out day by day. She had not
known what it was like to care like this she had
endured Haines' love-making with a certain shy
pride, half-ignorance and half -reluctance. But since
her lips had met those of the man she could love, such
license allowed to any other was a physical nausea.
A kiss may be an education in the emotions, or it may
be a passive thing, colourless and unimportant. But
it is, after all, a sense of touch, and a symbol
of a much greater intimacy. . . . Suddenly Barbara
blenched and saw her doom before her.
"I'm afraid we ought to ask the Everards to din-
ner," Lady Stroud was saying thoughtfully. "Of
course, I don't mean that exactly, because I am always
glad to see her; but we haven't had them since he was
back, and he is such a difficult man to entertain peo-
ple dislike him so!"
"H'm, yes!" said the Admiral. "They'll dislike
him more too, after the court begins to sit! I hear
the case is sure to go against Azeopardi."
"And that dreadful murder trial!" said Lady
Stroud. "If he lets the man off I am sure there will
be a rising."
"Tut, tut! Fanny you are not even to think of
such things under my administration, far less say
them!"
272 EXILE
"Oh, wefi, this is only a family party! But who
can I ask to meet the Chief Justice? There is no one
who likes him, except Mr. Murgatroyd."
"Well, that would make eight with ourselves, even
if we leave Haines out."
"Two ladies short!" sighed Lady Stroud. "Mr.
Merryn, do think of two kind, charitable ladies!"
Merryn started slightly, and put his cup down on
the little table; but he went back to his former atti-
tude the next moment, his hand on the pillar as if he
liked its support.
"We could ask Mrs. Cateret and Mrs. Smart, as
their husbands are shooting in Somaliland," he sug-
gested with an effort.
"But they are not kind or charitable at all. Mrs.
Cateret makes the most horrible faces when she tries
to be amusing, and Mrs. Smart turned her back on
the American consul the last time she was here. She
was really quite rude. They are both such disagree-
able women !"
"Perhaps that is why their husbands are in Somali-
land!" said the Admiral amicably. "For goodness'
sake let us work off all the unpleasant people together,
Fanny, and give up our minds to it for one evening !"
"That's all very well for you, because the one nice
woman falls to your share Mrs. Everard !" said Lady
Stroud, laughing. "How wonderfully well she is look-
ing! I passed her on the road to the Club yesterday
and she struck me afresh. I had to point her out to
Mr. Merryn as if he had never seen her before!"
"She is looking wonderfully well," Merryn agreed.
Mr. Haines had brought Barbara her tea, and sat
down quietly near her while she drank it. He was
EXILE 273
not watching her, and yet she was painfully conscious
of a new line between his brows and some shadow
on him as if reflected from her own pain. She strug-
gled against the feeling, but it was a relief when tea
was over, and a move was made for the Club. Bar-
bara said the air would do her good she did not want
to be left behind; and then in a panic fear wondered
if it sounded as though she did not want to be left
with her fiance. Mr. Merryn made his excuses, as
Lady Stroud had a sufficient escort in the Admiral
and Mr. Haines. He wanted to have a swim, and
would go out to Fort Bay, leaving the bungalow be-
fore the rest of the party. Lady Stroud and Bar-
bara went to dress, and the Admiral and the Colonial
Secretary stood in the compound, smoking, until the
ladies were ready. From his position near the open
door in the lattice Rodney Haines could see the empty
drawing-room, and his eyes mechanically waited, as
they always did, for Barbara's coming. The com-
pound was a place of memories to him, and a little
thrill like electricity always went through him at the
memory of that night when he asked her to be his
wife and first held her in his arms.
Suddenly he saw her, coming quietly across the
drawing-room. Lady Stroud was not with her, and
for the moment he did not realise that she had not
seen them in the compound. The Admiral, indeed,
had his broad back to her, but Haines was facing the
room. He saw her come back to the deserted tea-
table, hesitate, and then move to the pillar against
which Merry had been leaning. The girl turned her
head quickly, and pressed her lips to the spot where
his hand had rested so long.
274 EXILE
It was at foolish action, and an impulse that Bar-
bara's own conscience did not approve, for the next
instant she had turned away. But being only a girl,
and not a Stoic, the unconscious yearning of the senti-
ment was instinctive. It flashed across Haines' eye-
balls like a flame of fire the movement and the sig-
nificance of it. He had felt the presage of despair
with all the finest chords of his soul, though he had
not guessed he had not guessed ! Now the meaning
of the past weeks came back to him the days during
which he had waited with such perfect hope for the
dawn of comprehension in her, the clinging of his
own heart to the possibility of her loving him as he so
passionately desired. And all the while she had been
learning to love Merryn ! He did not hesitate or deny
his own disaster ; he was too quick-witted and intuitive
to make another mistake. The facts were all there,
clear and hard before his immediate consciousness as
if a god had dealt them to him, like blows.
He went on talking to the Admiral he never knew
how and presently Barbara joined them with Lady
Stroud, and they all went down to the Club. Haines
was very gay. He talked nonsense and made Lady
Stroud laugh, so that even her maternal instinct did
not warn her for him. But when they reached their
destination he excused himself from bridge, and asked
Barbara to come and sit near the low wall, by the
water. He had a feeling that what was to be done
must be done quickly. It was too dreadful a thing
to hesitate over like some ghastly operation that
must be done now if at all. He leaned forward in
the dusk and touched her left hand lying listlessly on
her knee. Behind her the sunset was working the
EXILE 275
old miracle over Banishment, the bronze icebergs
piercing the bleeding wounds of the western sky. The
reflected light lay far across the water, and touched
Haines' face to a strange glow, as of some poor mar-
tyr waiting for the growing fire. He was rather seri-
ous, she thought, and there was a curious transparency
under his eyes.
"Barbara," he said, "I have made a mistake!"
His hand touching hers drew the little loose Arabic
ring off her third finger before she could move. Other
people in the Club saw only that Mr. Haines and his
fiancee were sitting side by side and that the man had
touched the girl's hands. It was hardly good taste
to be demonstrative in public well, they might have
waited till after dark! But what would you? This
was Exile and people were unconventional.
Haines straightened himself a little, and dropped
the ring into his pocket.
"There! is not that better? Don't you feel freer?"
he said, with a little cracked sound in his voice that
made her jump. "I think the headache will go now."
"I don't understand, Rodney!"
"Don't you? Does Mr. Merryn understand?"
"Oh, Rodney but we never said anything in-
deed ! And we never meant to. How did you know ?"
"Never mind, so long as I do know. You needn't
say anything to-night. I'll tell Lady Stroud later on
that we have changed our minds." His voice had
lost its melody, and he still spoke on that odd cracked
note that made her feel him a stranger. She was so
unhappy as yet that she could not even feel relieved.
"I am so ashamed of myself!" she said, with her
facility for speaking the exact truth.
276 EXILE
He turned upon her rather suddenly, almost as if
he could have been savage to her had he lost his self-
control. "Why are you sorry?" he said. "For fall-
ing in love at last? Don't be sorry; it is the one
real thing you have probably ever done, the only
awakening you can have. It is not a thing to be
sorry for no! no! It is the most refined way of
torturing a soul that even God could conceive. That
is why " he stopped abruptly and passed his hand
across his eyes a little wearily. "I'm talking non-
sense," he said. "And you can't understand, you poor
child! Good-bye, Babs. I am going to send Bride
to talk to you. Ask him to prescribe for your head-
ache!" He laughed again, softly, but the jarred note
was still there. Then he rose without any haste and,
crossing to the club-house, caught Dr. Bride and sent
him over to Barbara, jovial and evidently with no
suspicion that anything was wrong. The girl sat still
helplessly, with a feeling that something almost inde-
cent had happened. It should not have all taken.place
here, out of doors, with half-a-dozen people almost
within earshot! Then she missed the ring on her
finger that had made her so uneasy while she wore it
and slipped her right hand over her left. The dia-
monds would arrive too late from England now!
She drew her breath with a sound between a sob and
a sigh.
"Haines says he is bound to play one rubber, and
then he'll try to get away," said Dr. Bride with a
chuckle. "Awful thing bridge, Miss Play fair! It's
as solemn an engagement as a moonlight tryst! You
don't play?"
EXILE 277
"Yes, a good deal. But I have had a headache
all day."
Her eyes, wandering to the tables, really saw Haines
sitting down to the game with three other men. Per-
haps after all it was not so horribly serious as it had
seemed to break an engagement ! Perhaps that cracked
note in his voice was her fancy.
A little later she glanced across at the table again,
but Haines had gone and another man had taken his
place.
CHAPTER XVI
"By that faith I cannot share,
Fare thee well !
By this hopeless heart's despair,
Fare thee well !
By the days I have been glad for thee,
The years I shall be sad for thee,
The hours I shall be mad for thee,
Farewell !"
SYDNEY DOBELU
RODNEY HAINES made his excuses to Lady
Stroud on the plea of work. He had been extra
busy of late, and had thrown himself into his duties
with a fiery enthusiasm whose reason was obvious.
He wanted to leave an excellent record behind him,
and it was probable that his service in Exile would
end next year and that he might be promoted. He
was a valuable man over the finances of a colony,
and he was moderately sure of being made Adminis-
trator if not at once a Governor at any rate, he would
be backed by very high praise from Sir Jonathan.
He had always worked with the nervous force of his
temperament, but of late he had had the incentive
of a definite object in his future to spur him on, and
had spared neither brain nor body. Something of
the transparency which Barbara had noticed in his
face was due to this, for he had given her not only
the immediate worship, but the advantage of his train-
278
EXILE 279
ing in a service which asks more and more of the man
who means to keep in the front. Everything was to
be turned to account for Barbara past record, and
present experience, and future chances. Rodney
Haines did not only give love he gave service.
When he left the Club the sunset had faded away
behind Banishment, and the sudden night had de-
scended on the Rocks, darkening their outlines. There
was sufficient light in the entrance to show him the
roadway, but he walked like a man who is not quite
sober, stumbled, and swore out loud, to the surprise
of the Club porter. Haines was a man who never
used foul language, and the oath had not been of the
mildest. His own car he had a two-seater was
standing in the road, and he took it home by himself,
his servant not being on the spot. He drove quite
steadily, though the Club porter had come out into
the road to see him start, thinking that there was
something wrong. He had not only heard Mr. Haines
swear, but had seen his face.
The bungalow belonging to the Colonial Secretary
was beyond the garrison lines a little further up the
mountain side. It was perched in a niche of the
Rocks by itself, and had hardly any compound owing
to the nature of the ground. Haines was wont to
drive his car neatly through the gateway and back
her into the shed. To-night for the first time he
hesitated, and a panic fear dawned in his mind that
he could not make the turn he should lose control
of the brakes and slip backwards down the hill.
His face was very tense as he engaged the clutch,
and jerking 1 round the wheel scraped through the gate-
280 EXILE
way, and when he entered the bungalow he found the
sweat running down his face.
He got to his work at once, taking it up where he
had put it down that very afternoon to go up to
Government House for tea. His dread had been that
he would not be able to concentrate his forces, but
to his relief his brain was piercingly clear almost
unusually so. It seemed strung up to grasp certain
financial problems that had eluded him earlier in the
day, and he felt no tire, only an increased craving to
go on and on and not to give himself time to think.
He worked straight on from seven o'clock to ten with-
out pause for food, and then suddenly the impulse
stopped. He was conscious that he could do no more,
though he was not tired; he knew that if he went to
bed he should not sleep, but he had no intention of
going to bed. He put the papers in order for his next
day's work, locked his desk, and turned thirstily to
the draught of open air that came in through the
jalousies. His servants had been dismissed and had
gone to bed. Haines walked out through the window
on to the verandah and through the damaged gateway
into the road.
People were not yet returning from dinner parties
or card parties. There were lights in the Marines'
mess, but no motor passed him on the road. He
walked down into Fort and through the silent streets
of the Arab quarters out on to the road to Reserve
again. Overhead the sky was clear and rich with
stars, and the desert wind met him as he left the last
bungalows behind. He passed the mouth of the Cut-
ting leading to Reserve, and held on towards the
desert, skirting the foot of the Rocks. It seemed to
EXILE 281
him that his toiling feet would never get beyond their
boundaries and out into the dead sand, and he began
to have a sickening horror and fear of the Rocks as
of some animate thing that hated him and would rend
and tear. They made a background to the quickness
of his tragedy the undeserved pain that had passed
within their relentless walls.
It had all been so rapid, the coming of his love and
the passing of it, that it had not given him pause for
defence. He was conscious, too, that for him there
was only one way of doing the decent thing to do it
quickly. Had he allowed himself time to argue or to
reason it would have been in his own favour, and he
would have clung fiercely to his hold on Barbara, bat-
tling to make her care for him, clinging to every shred
of expediency and advantage that could give him a
shadow of right. And all the time he would have
known that without the essential thing his plea of po-
sition, or means, or devotion to the girl was as noth-
ing. If she did not love him he was digging his own
grave in binding her, for he would never have been
satisfied with less. The fine, quick nature that made
him an artist could not have solaced itself as a coarser
one might with the humdrum of failure. The discord
of their everyday life would have been always present
with him, despite any sophistry of "settling down"
and "getting on as well as most married people." For
after all it amounted to this, that she had not learned
to love him, and she had learned to love Merryn. It
was not a question of one man's superiority over the
other, it never is with a woman it was the one un-
controvertible necessity of her nature. Merryn was
her natural mate and Haines only a mistake of her
282 EXILE
inexperience. His nervous force had swept her off
her feet and taken her captive before she could get
her breath; but the captivity could not last before the
judgment of Nature.
Haines walked on and on into the desert, as he
supposed, but with the instinct of men lost in the bush
he began to turn in his own tracks and make a circle.
He first began to be aware of it in the horrid recur-
rency of the Rocks, whose nearing outline through
the night drove him out again into the sand to flee
from them. He struck miles into the desert as it
seemed, only to find them overshadowing him again,
until with a suppressed shriek he almost ran from
them. The first numbness of the shock of breaking
his engagement was passing from him, and he was
beginning to feel the live pain of it. The sickening
sense of loss was followed by a jealousy that seared
him to think of her in the arms of another man, until
the very dregs of his nature seemed uppermost, and
he set his teeth against the wish that he had held her
to her bargain, and gained the joys of the flesh at
least. He could have punished her there taken his
revenge and enjoyment at the same time; and a wave
of heat went over him at the thought, passed, and left
him shivering with cold. Passion was not less to Rod-
ney Haines than to more animal natures it was only
a refinement of the same sense. The fineness of the
man lay in the struggle that he made against a self-
indulgence that others would have excused as "nat-
ural" or "necessary."
It seemed to him that he had been walking for days
and days instead of a matter of a few hours when the
first light in the eastern sky began to show him his
EXILE 283
way. The desert lay out in ridges before him, speckled
with the dark bushes of the camel-thorn and dying
into dusk on the horizon. He had thrust the Rocks
behind him once more, and struck out for the long
road, now that he could see it like a brown ribbon in
the dawn, the unnatural music of the telephone wires
accompanying him on his way. The chorded notes
fretted his ear, and reminded him of the monotony
of one of Wagner's operas where the prolongation of
a single note is supposed to represent the flowing of
the Rhine. Mental and physical are so closely inter-
woven that the immediate effect of his trouble was an
absolute sickness and sudden trembling of the limbs.
The cold of the desert was intensified in the dawn,
and he drew his linen coat closer and shivered vio-
lently, but at the same time lifted his stricken face to
the lightening sky and pressed his damp hair away
from his forehead with both hands, discovering for
the first time that he was wearing no hat. The fact
suddenly awoke him to dim consciousness of ordinary
things and the decency of keeping a veil between his
soul and the world of men. He remembered that he
must go back, and hoped it would be early enough to
avoid recognition. They must not see him in that dis-
ordered state and with the face that he dimly sur-
mised he wore.
Without knowing that he had turned, he found him-
self hurrying along the road again, the implacable
outline of the Rocks still before him. But their sig-
nificance began to awe him as the sun came up and
struck their furrowed sides with greyish lights. He
tried to keep his eyes upon the road before him, but
they strayed stealthily to the Rocks, and an odd sense
284 EXILE
began to possess him that they were drawing him to
them. He faltered and stood still in the roadway,
looking back and forth like some hunted animal, while
the sun beat down on his uncovered head, and showed
in his face the ravages of the night. He was talking
to himself, and was aware that he must have been
doing so for some time. He heard his own voice
clearly.
"Hervey's somewhere near," it said. "Hervey's got
a house somewhere in those damned sands if I could
only find it. Hervey, old fellow, can't you take in a
poor devil who's being killed by those accursed
Rocks?" . . . Then it struck him how funny it was
to talk like that, and he burst out laughing, and the
sound frightened him more than the words. He
shaded his bloodshot eyes from the glare and looked
across the desert, and there to his right were the crests
of palms that proclaimed the wells of Golgotha and
Hervey's bungalow. Something seemed to break in
his heart, and he set off running to reach it, sobbing
dreadfully beneath his breath because of the fear that
the Rocks would drag him back and hold him ere he
got there. He babbled as he ran, stumbling among
the camel-thorns, and when still half a mile from his
goal he fell and lay face downwards in the broad day,
a limp heap of something white in the desert. He
looked so dead that two great vultures hung hovering
above him in blue air, undecided as to whether this
were carrion or no ; but fortunately his eyes were out
of their reach, hidden in the sand.
*****
Richmond Hervey was rung up early from the
waterworks, for there was some fear of a fall in the
EXILE 285
Cutting. The men engaged on the pipes that carried
the water to Fort had reported earth tremors in the
great tunnel and the appearance of small fissures in
the rocks. Hervey had already taken all precautions
by timbering to prevent larger falls, but the staff were
taken with panic, and unconsciously to themselves
had become dependent on his strength and judgment.
Hervey pealed his instructions through the telephone,
with footnotes to the effect that they were a nursery
of fools, and ordered early breakfasts in Reserve and
the car to take him through. There was nothing that
should not have been managed without him, and he
disapproved of incapacity. After his early fruit and
coffee he had half a mind to countermand the car and
leave them to learn adequacy by enforced responsi-
bility. In his judgment it would have been days or
even weeks before such slight warnings of danger as
he had seen would have resulted in a complete col-
lapse of the Cutting, unless some earthquake shock
(such as had originally showed him the existence of
the river) had again visited Reserve. In any case,
there had been no occasion for immediately closing
the Cutting, and he hoped to avoid doing so entirely.
But the motor being at the door, he decided that the
early drive would be refreshing after a hot night, and
took the wheel from his chauffeur. Half a mile from
his own gate his attention was arrested by an excla-
mation from the Arab, and he checked the car to allow
him to get down and investigate a heap of white linen
in the sand at a short distance from the road.
"Another murder case for the Chief Justice!"
thought Hervey with a grim smile. "I'll be witness
for the prosecution this time, as having found the
286 EXILE
body, and hear whether any of the assailant's sisters
or wives are of Everard's household in Banishment."
He checked his ironical thought as his man came run-
ning back with a pallid face and distended eyes.
"By Jove! I believe it is a murder!" said Hervey.
"Those cursed Arab knives again, and too much co-
caine, I suppose."
"It is Haines Sahib 1" panted the Arab as he reached
the car. "There is no wound upon him, and therefore
I think that he is smitten with the madness of the
Rocks and will die!"
But Hervey was out of the car before he had
reached the end of his sentence.
CHAPTER XVII
"And there was one that followed her,
With that unhappy curse called 'love';
Last night, though winds beat loud above,
She shrank ! Hark, on the creaking stair,
What stealthy footstep followed her?"
ALFRED NOYES.
TO some men a satellite is as necessary as their
daily bread, and forms the basis of their men-
tal diet. However brilliant their natural powers, they
cannot use them without an audience, and, though
they may be much stronger personalities than those
who minister to their vanity, it really seems as if
such Boswells were necessary for the development of
their Johnsons.
Edgar Everard was of this calibre. Though he had
been staggered by a sudden independence on Murga-
troyd's part, and resented it with all the mean capac-
ity of his nature, he was so dependent on the Crown
Prosecutor for food for his vanity that he could not
afford to quarrel with him. He realised this in the
moment of Murgatroyd's denunciation, and curbed his
own passion, promising himself ample revenge later
on. He knew himself Murgatroyd's superior in every
way that he counted an advantage, and he had just
gained an added hold over him through the knowledge
of his devotion to Claudia. That this very love should
be the saving clause to lift the weaker man into the
287
288 EXILE
nobility of strength was an idea which could not dawn
upon the Chief Justice, because he had not its capac-
ity in himself. He looked upon Murgatroyd's attack
on his own motives and actions as a momentary ebul-
lition of temper, and was quick to adopt an attitude
of tolerance that reflected credit on himself. All Ev-
erard's virtues were nicely calculated to his own ad-
vantage.
He had gone to Reserve, after Claudia's confession,
ostensibly on business connected with his clerks, for
the court would sit in a few days. But he did not pass
the night at Hassan's as Claudia would have concluded
he had done had she thought about it. Her own life
was too full to allow her to speculate much on her
husband in his absence, and had she known that he
was in one of the lowest houses in the native quarter
it would not have caused her more than a passing
wonder that men could call that pleasure much less
desecrate the name of love with it. Everard himself
would of course have charged his sins at his wife's
door, even though he thought her the victim of his
own salvation. And there are many better men who
would be equally illogical and dishonest with them-
selves.
As the hours passed with Everard, however, his
equilibrium recovered itself, and he began to arrange
the situation in compliment to himself upon his usual
lines. But he wanted an audience in order to shine
properly in his own eyes, and for this he looked to
Murgatroyd. He had made an appointment with the
Crown Prosecutor to meet him at the court-house in
order to speak to him officially about the murder trial ;
Everard had settled in his own mind that they should
EXILE 289
lunch together, and that he would heap coals of fire
on Murgatroyd's head by his own frank kindness, ig-
noring what had passed between them, though never
allowing Murgatroyd to forget it When they met,
however, he was really startled at the man's appear-
ance after his sleepless night, and his expressions of
concern were almost genuine.
"My dear Stanley, you look shockingly ill quite
ghastly !" he said with a plain spokenness that was by
no means complimentary. "You have been worrying
yourself, quite foolishly, for I never thought again of
what you said in the heat of the moment. Indeed, I
admired you for it !"
He could not conceive of any other cause of worry
to Murgatroyd more important than himself and his
own attitude ; but the Crown prosecutor flushed a dull,
ugly red through his livid skin, and his hollow eyes
did not follow Everard's every graceful movement
as usual.
"I did not sleep I walked about most of the night,"
he said.
"There! I told you you had been foolish!" said
Everard. He laid his hand protestingly on Murga-
troyd's gaunt shoulder, but there was a certain pleased
triumph in his smiling eyes. "You will never be able
to quarrel with me in earnest, Stanley you would
wear yourself to rags over it in a week!"
Murgatroyd did not answer for a minute. Then
he spoke with a gasp, as if he wrenched the words
from himself. "I went to see Claudia this morning.
During my wanderings last night, or, rather, early
this morning, I thought I saw a suspicious character,.,
an Arab, hanging about your bungalow. But Claudia
290 EXILE
tells me that she heard nothing it may have been a
friend of one of your servants."
"Keeping guard over my house in my absence, were
you!" said Everard, the pressure of his hand increas-
ing affectionately. "You are a good old watch-dog,
Stanley! But I expect that Claudia was right; Arab
servants are all thieves or harlots."
"You are very good to take it like this," said Mur-
gatroyd with a kind of stiff effort. "For after what
was said Between us I feel that I had no right to
watch your house, or perhaps to go and see Claudia."
He spoke more slowly than usual and with less hu-
mility. But Everard clutched eagerly at the conces-
sion.
"My dear Stanley! You know I trust you as my-
self. I am going to prove it to you by taking you into
my confidence what one man in a thousand would
not tell another. But I, as you know, am different to
the nine hundred and ninety-nine ! May I lunch with
you to-day, after we have done with Somers and his
depositions? I don't want to go home until I have
unburdened my mind."
Murgatroyd gave the invitation demanded of him,
but with unusual reluctance. It had been an unstated
law between them that his house was Everard's and
everything he possessed at his disposal. But his ser-
vility had gone from the moment when he rose up as
Claudia's champion, and was not to be so easily re-
established. He was moody and silent all the morn-
ing, save in his usual methodical attention to official
business, and not even to be roused by the Chief Jus-
tice's sallies, whereat Somers, the attorney, laughed
heartily. But having ordered things in his own way,
EXILE 391
Everard was not affected by any surliness on the part
of his tool ; he had never been more brilliant after his
own manner, joking even over the murder trial, and
openly flippant in referring to the Azeopardi case.
"If they do not take longer to dispose of than they
have to-day I shall not have a ten days' sitting, Som-
ers," he said gaily, gathering his sheaf of papers to-
gether with his own finely-moulded hands. Everard
thought his own hands artistic, and said they were
more fitted to play the piano than Haines', who had
coarsened his by using them for all sorts of hobbies.
As a matter of fact, the Chief Justice's were much
more fitted to pick a pocket. A criminal wants more
delicate fingers than a musician.
"I hear there is a good deal of talk in the bazaars
about this murder, sir," said Somers casually. "The
people are determined that Haroun AH shall hang."
"Are they?" The Chief Justice turned as swiftly
on him as a beast of prey, showing his sharp-pointed
teeth. "They have constituted themselves a supreme
court, then, in the bazaars!"
"Oh, well, sir, I only repeat what I hear!" said
Somers apologetically. "You know what Arabs are
they get excited over anything."
"I'll see a good many of them imprisoned if they
get excited over my judgments !" said the Chief Jus-
tice, with his eyes alight. "We shall want a new wing
to the prison before we've done, Somers. Talk in
the bazaars, do they ! I would like to hear them talk
in my presence!"
It was so obvious what would be the fate of any-
body who did that Somers was silenced. Murgatroyd
had not spoken, but as they drove away from the
292 EXILE
court-house in Everard's car he said heavily, "Somers
did right to tell you. There has been some disaffec-
tion."
But Everard laughed with a kind of savage intoxi-
cation. "There will be more before I have done, Stan-
ley! I will use the sword in my hand up to the hilt,
and leave a record behind me when I leave that shall
outlive me. Azeopardi must go, of course; and if the
assessors cannot prove premeditation I shall discharge
Haroun AH."
"Do you think the man innocent?" said Murga-
troyd bluntly.
"I think I have the power to discharge him!"
Murgatroyd did not speak again till they reached
his lonely bungalow, and then gave a brief order to
his butler about luncheon. He did not drink himself,
but he placed wine before his guest, and Everard's
eyes grew brighter still as he emptied his glass. With
the stimulant his tongue was loosened, and he began
to tell Murgatroyd what Claudia had told him, colour-
ing the confession from his own standpoint.
"Stanley, there is nothing my wife would not do or
bear for me! I see that now. At the time I was
stunned by her confession I could think of nothing
but my own wrong. But I see now that she did it for
my sake. I must forgive her because she made a su-
preme sacrifice of herself for my safety. Yes, I say
supreme sacrifice, and I use the word 'forgive' ! Many
men would not be wide-minded enough to do this, but
you know me you know that I have an extraordinary
power of grasping the realities of life and breaking
the bonds of convention."
His voice had risen, and became full-throated as
EXILE 293
when he spoke in court. Indeed, he was absorbed in
the vindication of his own attitude and almost obliv-
ious of his listener, who had never uttered a word
throughout the waste of words. Murgatroyd's
knotted hands were clasped on his knee, the fingers
twisting and untwisting like some creature writhing
in agony; but except for the involuntary movement
he was motionless, and as the two men sat with the
lunch-table and the wine between them Everard could
not see those working hands. He was enjoying his
own mental attitude, which must be an inevitable sur-
prise to his audience.
"I left Claudia thinking that she had estranged me
for ever," he said, flushed with the wine and his own
self -admiration. "I am going home to tell her that
this is not so that I forgive her! and she will be
ready to fall at my feet and bless me. Who knows?
This may be the beginning of a new and closer union
for us!"
If he had half -forgotten his listener he remembered
him in those last words and hoped to dip the sword
in venom for him. He knew that Murgatroyd loved
his wife, and intended to awake a physical jealousy
by the hint of his marital rights. Physical jealousy
was Everard's chief test of love, and he glanced across
the table with his brilliant shallow eyes to see if his
victim winced. _ Murgatroyd was looking at him
strangely, it is true, but what he said was ominous of
a thought that Everard could not follow.
"Do not be too sure!"
The Chief Justice laughed with a spice of triumph.
He thought the warning prompted solely by the wish,
and could afford to brush it aside. When he left,
294 EXILE
still dressed in the vision of his own generosity, he
laid his hand on Murgatroyd's shoulder again and
urged him not to stay away from his house on any
foolish pretext of misunderstanding.
"You will see a change between Claudia and me
when you come!" he said. "We shall look for you."
He was in a mood of high self-glorification that
lasted him all the way home. It was upon him still
as he entered his wife's presence, and he looked at her
with kindling eyes that saw her beauty afresh as
warmer and more desirable than he had ever known
it. And in that he judged rightly, for Claudia was
developing in her own heart-happiness as a flower
expands in the sunshine. He really thought that his
desire towards her was an admirable thing, and saw
himself in a halo of generosity, though his appetite
had been whetted first by the discovery of Murga-
troyd's devotion, and then by a strange inversion
through her confession of Hervey's terms for the let-
ter. Everard used swollen words about his honour,
but the situation had begun to pique his interest and
increase her value to him rather than the reverse. His
mind had reached a stage when a suggestion of de-
bauchery at least was necessary to stimulate his pas-
sions. He was a decadent, and if his wife had been
of the same type as himself he would have tried to
discuss it with her, and played with the details, even
while he professed a stereotyped repugnance. Had
they not lived so remotely from each other Claudia
would long since have lost the admiring attitude with
which she had entered on marriage with him; but it
had needed his own action to open her eyes, his own
self-revelation to expose him to her. She seemed to
EXILE 295
see him very plainly unveiled to-day as he came into
the cool shade of the bungalow from the baked world
outside, and she shuddered a little inwardly while she
looked up with a civil greeting.
"Stanley called here this morning, Edgar, and asked
for you. He was afraid that some Arab was trying to
break into the bungalow in your absence ; but I heard
nothing of it."
"I know, my dear! I lunched with Stanley. He
told me all about it. He is an old watch-dog faith-
ful old fool!" He seemed pleased with this phrase,
which had lingered in his memory as appropriate, only
enriched with the word "fool." "I have been talking
to Stanley about you, Claudia. I think I surprised
him."
"You surprise me."
"Why?" He did not wish his generosity to be
forestalled or guessed beforehand, and he spoke al-
most sharply. His wife was sitting in her usual chair
by the little table that had held her flowers, and now
held her work-basket, for she was stitching at some
soft white work, and her wine-coloured eyes were not
raised from her employment as she spoke. Everard
sat down on the other side of the table, his narrow
face thrust forward a little in his contemplation of
her.
"What surprises you, Claudia?"
"That you should discuss me with Stanley Murga-
troyd or any man."
"Oh, nonsense. Stanley is an old friend a faith-
ful old watch-dog to us both." (He certainly liked
that phrase.) "It was like speaking my heart out to
myself."
296 EXILE
"Or wearing it on your sleeve ?"
He did not heed the quiet irony, for he had got his
opening. "You will be more surprised when you hear
what I said about you, Claudia! I told Stanley of
your wonderful sacrifice for me yes, wonderful! I
used that word. My poor girl, you thought I left
you in just anger yesterday you thought my attitude
was that of the outraged husband; and so it might
have been with most men. But you did not know
me!"
He paused as if expecting some cue of admiration
or entreaty; but she was as silent as Murgatroyd had
been. She did indeed seem breathless with surprise,
for her busy hands had stopped their work, and her
eyes, dark with something like incredulous fear, were
looking straight before her.
"You told Stanley about that!" she said at last in
a low voice.
"Yes, and I justified you!" he returned, his voice
rising in triumph. "Oh, you may trust me, Claudia!
You need not fear even to speak of it to me. I am
struck with your courage your great devotion to
me. I think of nothing else. Do not be afraid that I
shall shrink from you. Yesterday you were able to
blurt out nothing but the bare facts. You may tell
me the whole story now. I shall only pity you, for
you were a martyr in my cause !"
Claudia's hands had risen instinctively to her breast
with a movement that was a characteristic of hers.
She pressed them hard over her raging heart, which
seemed as if it must kill her. The scene was hideous
to her, with its elements of grotesqueness and ugly
tragedy and the intolerable vanity and vileness of the
EXILE 297
man before her. If he had cursed her she could have
forgiven him better. For in a flash she realised that
he was curious ; he hated Hervey as a weak man hates
a strong, and would like to have stripped him of all
decency even by the means of his own wife's degrada-
tion. Had she not loved Richmond Hervey the thing-
would have shocked her with regard to herself. The
two together became intolerable.
"There is nothing to say, nothing but the bare
fact," she said, and her own voice sounded cracked
and hoarse to her from the strain she put upon herself
to speak at all. "You must resent it or not as you
please. But this must never be discussed between us
again."
He gave a restless movement of impatience. "But,
Claudia, you do not understand me!" he said. "I am
willing to forgive it." He looked at her half-furtively,
the heaving lines of her breast, the beauty that no
mental disturbance could make less, and one hand
moved stealthily as if he would fain grasp at it. "I
am willing to take you back!" he said in a whisper.
"I will make you forget all this to-night."
She did not cry out. She rose quite steadily, thrust-
ing her chair back with a force that grated on the
carpetless floor. But the face she turned on him was
like the Gorgon face that changed men to stone.
"There can never be a question of that between you
and me again," she said finally. "I have told you so
once before. You are mad to think it. Let me go
away to Europe at once if you are wise. But the less
that passes between us now the better. I have heard
from yourself what your principles are they are not
mine. You have used your power to ruin other inno-
298 EXILE
cent men, and you mean to do it again for your own
advantage. I warn you now that I am not of your
party, and you had better let me know no more of
your schemes. There is this Petition out against you,
of which I have told you already. You, as a judge,
know what miscarriage of justice means, and the con-
sequences to yourself of an inquiry by the High
Court."
Her voice had regained its music, and she never
faltered even though he started up, with his eyes flar-
ing. Before he could speak she had turned away from
him and gone into her room. He heard the key turn
in the lock significantly he heard the door closed
against him once and for all
CHAPTER XVIII
"Thou art like silence all unvexed,
Though wild words part my soul from thee.
Thou art like silence unperplexed,
A secret and a mystery
Between one footfall and the next."
ALICE MEYNELL.
SAID'S village was of the most elementary kind,
and consisted merely in the thatched huts of
half-a-dozen families, each in its own outer fencing.
There were no shops and no industries, Golgotha hav-
ing absorbed both the trade and the workers. The
women of the community, however, wove the mats,
each for her own family, with which the tiny square
huts were made, something after the fashion of a
Somali kuria, though they were hardly so skilful as
the Somalis. The huts were arranged in rows facing
each other, with a small courtyard between, and nar-
row passages leading from one of these miniature
blocks to that behind it. Even the outside wall, which
answered to the "ring fence" of an English landowner,
was made of rough matting. It was only the ovens
that were of mud.
Mrs. Everard had left her carriage at Golgotha,
where Said and his camel awaited her, and mounting
the beast, rode out the two miles across the sand and
the camel-thorn. In the dazzling distance the furthest
ramparts of the Rocks ran out to Fort Headland, and
299
300 EXILE
she kept them in sight all the way on her left; but to
the right there was nothing but the long ribs of sand.
Said hardly spoke to her. He strode on barefooted
over the desert, leading his camel, in a seeming great
content, for his dark face was serener than a smile
beneath the white turban. The camel was not yet full-
grown, but it moved easily, and only uttered the pro-
testing "Ha, ha-ha-ha-ha-HA !" at intervals when some
unknown cause disturbed its mind. It was consider-
ably smaller than the great bull that had carried Mrs.
Everard to and from Reserve, but seeing it by day.
light she was struck by the peculiar similarity to a lion
in certain points of the beast. In colour it was the
same greyish fawn as the lion ; the tail with its fringed
end was something the same, and the great width of
the head with its small ears was not unlike as seen
from above. Only the long, contemptuous lip and the
unfathomable eyes were totally dissimilar, and it is
these and the quaint body that mark its characteristics
to most people's minds. Mrs. Everard liked camels,
and rubbed her foot gently against the swinging neck
as they slipped over the sand in a gait between a run
and a walk. She liked, too, the high seat that enabled
her to look out widely over the desert as they jour-
neyed.
"Is that your village, Said?" she said at last "I
can see roofs amongst the camel-thorn."
"Yes, ya Sitt. It is not far." He led the camel
out of the narrow track they were following, across
rough ground that would have tried a less practised
walker, and a minute later they were outside the mat
wall and he commanded the camel to sit down. Half-
a-dozen donkeys and two other camels were already
EXILE 301
tethered there eating a scanty meal of hay, and Mrs.
Everard saw some lean hens scratching in the sand.
She stepped down from the native saddle and fol-
lowed Said inside the fence, finding herself almost at
once in a courtyard and the centre of his family.
Some of them she knew already Othman, his elder
brother, and old Mahomed, his uncle, who worked in
the pottery works at Golgotha; but the women and
children she had, of course, never seen before, as
this was her first visit. They were of a poorer class
than Hassan's household, but the faces were no less
beautiful, and in truth no less happy. Mrs. Everard
flung up the blue veil she had been wearing in the glare
of the desert, and they crowded about her, kissing
their own hands before shaking hers with that prettiest
of all salutations, and holding their children up for her
inspection.
Said's house was not yet finished, as he said, for he
was but newly married, so Claudia was ushered into
Othman's, which was typical of all the rest. It was
some ten feet square for it consisted of the one room
and all the furniture was but a row of cushions
placed all round it on the mud floor. The mat walls
were plastered on the inside to give them more sta-
bility, and were adorned with at least twenty saucers
of various patterns and shapes, from painted tins to
fine china. There were no cups, though a trayful with
coffee was brought in immediately afterwards by way
of refreshment. Apparently the saucers were re-
garded as supremely ornamental, and were hung on
the walls as Europeans hang pictures.
Mrs. Everard sat down on the cushions with the
family grouped round her while she drank her coffee.
302 EXILE
They almost filled the room the children in the centre
of the floor and Said and Othman standing in the
open doorway.
"And which is Said's wife?" she said.
A young woman leaned forward, smiling and show-
ing 1 a row of flawless teeth between full, curved lips.
She was much more mature in appearance than Said,
though they were probably about the same age, and if
not so beautiful a type as her husband, she was sug-
gestive of a natural maternity in the lines of her swell-
ing breasts and free hips. She sat on the cushions
with her dull red surra tucked round her, and looked
at Claudia with frank admiration. Indeed, the mur-
mured comments on their visitor's gold hair, fair skin,
and deeply marked eyes were almost embarrassing,
though entirely free from any jealousy. They liked
to look at Al Siyyidha as at some beautiful jewel, and
to listen to her low voice. One of the men had been
making nets, and a dozen laughing voices demanded
of Claudia whether she could net too. She took the
shuttle and needle in her hands and passed the twine
swiftly to and fro to show that she knew the stitch,
and the women clustered round her to see. It was
while they did so that her accustomed ears caught the
gist of an Arab phrase passing between the old man
Mahomed and Said, and her heart seemed to stop
beating as she followed the sense.
"If he does not kill Haroun Ali they will kill him!"
"Without doubt. But al Sitt were well rid of such
a lord."
Claudia gave the netting back into the women's
hands with a smile, hoping that her lips were not so
stiff as they felt. She had warned Everard of the
EXILE 303
unpopularity of his judgments as in honour bound;
but she had not felt herself further responsible if he
were impregnable in his folly, believing that his chief
danger lay in an investigation by the Colonial Office,
or more serious still by the Privy Council. Now the
clanger seemed to start up nearer at hand, menacing
him personally a disaster which he had only feared
through the publication of the letter he had written to
Hervey. For she could not mistake that phrase of
Mahomed's and Said's answer:
"Without doubt. But al Sitt were well rid of such
a lord!"
She had recognised the young Mahomedan's devo-
tion to her, a devotion such as a Christian might give
his patron saint, for Said did not rank her as he did
his own women, but rather as something miraculous
and without sex; but she had not realised his antago-
nism to Everard, or the tales of him that must pass in
the bazaars. She was feverishly anxious to get Said
alone and question him as to her husband's danger,
but she could not cut short her visit, and had to make
a tour of inspection of the other houses, which were
exactly similar to Othman's, and to see the shell of
Said's, which was rapidly nearing completion.
"It is a very nice house, Said!" she said kindly.
"And what will you put in it? You must let me send
you something for the furnishing!"
Said's wife smiled and dimpled with pleasure. She
loved presents, and no doubt Al Siyyidha would send
them something very beautiful that should outshine
all the rest of the family possessions. Said did not
smile, but his acceptance of her offer made Claudia
feel that the honour would be hers in giving.
304 EXILE
When they left the village, and Mrs. Everard re-
mounted the camel, the sun was already beginning
to slant across the sand, and the shadow of the camel
went before, a thing of the strangest angles on stilt
legs, running across the desert. Claudia waited till
they were back in the track and then leaned forward
from her seat and spoke.
"Said!"
"Ya Sitt?" He half paused, the camel rope in his
hand, his beautiful face uplifted to her in the evening
light.
"What is this that is being said about the trial of
Haroun Ali?"
"The people know that he killed the man, ya Sitt !"
"They think that he must die also ?"
"It is just!"
"And if he is discharged?"
"There is no saying. It would be well to warn the
Lord Judge!"
Claudia looked down at him wonderingly. There
was no alteration in the beautiful gravity of his face,
and she marvelled that he had been induced to say so
much, for her knowledge of the Arab told her that
had she asked Othman or Mahomed they would have
been blankly innocent of all knowledge, even though a
riot were impending the next hour. It was only Said's
respect for her that caused him to answer her ques-
tions, but she had a vague feeling that it would not
deter him from some public demonstration against
Everard if Haroun Ali escaped justice.
She leaned back in her seat in silence, thinking
what she ought to do. Undoubtedly there was mis-
chief brewing, or Said would not have admitted so
EXILE 305
much, but the difficulty was to check Everard's reck-
less abuse of his position and to avoid any connection
between her warning and her visit to Said's family
to-day. She was quite determined that the village in
the sand should not suffer, but she knew that revenge
would be Everard's first action if he traced any re-
ports of discontent to that quarter. She had made no
secret of her excursion, though they had hardly ex-
changed a word since the afternoon before. Everard
appeared to be sulking, his furious temper only await-
ing an outlet, and she had been worried as to her plan
of action. She did not want to appeal to Hervey if it
could be helped, her preference being to go to Europe
as soon as might be and break the tie to Everard in
that way; but 'she was aware that Everard would
oppose her now by every means in his power, and the
matter was further complicated by the revelation she
had had in the village.
As they neared Golgotha her thoughts turned in-
stinctively to Hervey as the way out of her difficulties.
She had meant to take the risk of calling at his house
under some conventional excuse, knowing that Said
would not talk of her; now she had an added reason
in the necessity to consult him. He was her Man, and
all the woman in her demanded that he should share
her burdens. They passed through Golgotha, with its
squalid streets and the crowded zareba, where the
Arabs from Health left their camels the while they
trafficked in sweetmeats and the tainted meat of the
market. From under her blue veil Claudia looked
with pitiful eyes at the poor, hunched beasts with the
packs still on their backs and probably saddle-sores
beneath. She was an active member of the S.P.C.A-
306 EXILE
in Exile, but it was difficult to get a perfectly new idea
into the heads of a race that has always been more or
less cruel, not from intention, but from ignorance.
"I am glad your camel is not like these, Said !" she
said with a shiver. "I could not ride one of those poor
ill-treated beasts."
"Their masters are poor they come from the Port
and the villages further in the desert," said Said
simply. The explanation seemed to him adequate, but
Mrs. Everard did not pursue the subject. She was
glad to get away from the little white houses and out
on to the road, along which she could already see the
crowns of Hervey's date-palms swinging in the wind.
Her eyes grew soft as velvet and her lips parted with
a quick breath. But it was Said who pointed to the
bungalow with his driving stick to draw her attention.
"There is sickness there, ya Sitt. A kawagar (gen-
tleman) was stricken by the Rocks to-day, and Hervey
Sahib found him in the desert.'*
"Another !" exclaimed Claudia. "Why, it was poor
Mr. Smyth, of the Eastern Telegraph, only a few days
ago !" The news had not reached her as yet, and she
inquired the name. "Do you know who it was, Said ?"
"I heard that it was Haines Sahib, the Colonial
Secretary."
Claudia almost uttered a cry of dismay. "Oh, Said,
it can't be ! Why, I saw him only yesterday going up
to Government House. How dreadful! I must stop
and inquire."
The carriage she had ordered to drive her back to
Fort was standing near to the entrance gates of Her-
vey's bungalow, but Claudia, without dismounting,
rode the camel in and up the drive, telling Said to go
EXILE 307
back and explain to the abuggi that she should not be
long, after he had left her at the bungalow. She dis-
mounted at the door, and hastily thanking Said she
went forward to meet Hervey's white-liveried butler.
"Can I see Mr. Hervey? I hear that Mr. Haines
has been taken very ill here!"
"Yes, madam," said the man in careful English.
He recognised Claudia, but whatever he knew, or
guessed, his manner was that of the well-trained Ori-
ental who knows and sees nothing. "Mr. Haines is
here. He has a nurse. He is very ill !"
"Is Mr. Hervey at home?"
"Yes, madam. I go to find him."
He ushered Claudia into the familiar hall where she
had sat and smoked with Hervey after her memorable
dinner. Her blood was tingling with the memory as
she stood there, despite her distress about Rodney
Haines, and when she heard Hervey's step upon the
stairs she turned her face away almost childishly and
could not quite look at him.
"I am so very distressed," she said, giving him her
hand before the butler. "I have been out to see a
village in the sand with my Arab teacher, and on the
way back he has just told me of Mr. Haines' seizure.
It is very sudden, for I saw him only yesterday morn-
ing. I felt I must come in and inquire. Is he very
ill?"
"He has a temperature of 106 degrees," said Her-
vey inclusively. "Won't you come into the dining-
room, Mrs. Everard, and I will give you some tea."
He led the way to the more private room, with a
nod to the butler to get the offered refreshment.
308 EXILE
When they were alone he took her face in his hands
and looked at her long and thirstily.
"Claudia, you are like a well in the desert !" he said.
"I believe you carry healing in your eyes!"
His own face was lined and tired as if with watch-
ing, and she put her hands upon his great shoulders
and returned his gaze with some concern.
"You look very weary, Ritchie! Have you been
with him all day?"
"Most of it. I was obliged to leave him to the nurse
and doctors this morning, after I got them out here,
and go into Reserve. They are in a funk at the works
because there has been some slipping and they expect
a collapse."
"Two troubles at once! Is it serious?"
"Oh, no; only it will delay those pipe lines a bit,"
he said grimly. "And it may shut up the Cutting for
a day or so and send you a mile round to Reserve by
the old road. But I hope that may not happen. At
present the danger is negligible, and as it has only
occurred on one side I think we may be able to stop
it going further. It will be a nuisance if the Cutting
is closed."
"That does not matter," said Claudia, with no pre-
monition of how it might matter for life or death.
"Tell me about Mr. Haines. Where did you find
him?"
"About half a mile out on the sand, lying on his
face."
"Was he stricken by rock madness?"
"I don't believe in it !" Hervey shrugged his shoul-
ders. "I have lived with the Rocks for fifteen years,
EXILE 309
and they have not beaten me yet! Haines was over-
worked and had a private trouble to finish him."
"Oh, don't boast, Ritchie! I have grown super-
stitious with regard to you. I am so frightened at
my own happiness."
He flung his arm round her shoulders almost
roughly. "Nothing shall separate you and me!" he
said. "You are with me every minute of the day,
even when your body is absent. I am beginning to
believe in spirit communion, Claudia."
"I told you you would!" Her eyes flashed into
violet lights between the lashes, and the short upper
lip lifted with its hint of a smile.
"Am I learning the A.B.C. of love, darling?"
"I think so, Ritchie." She laughed a little, forget-
ful for the moment of the tragedy upstairs. "I know
even by the way you touch me. You don't clutch as
you did ! I am not going to vanish into thin air."
"Was I very brutal?"
"It was only your way of showing me. You are
showing me still, only in other ways."
"I shall never quite lose hold of the physical show-
ing, Claudia!"
She stepped back, but quietly and without haste, as
the tea was brought in; and then they sat down and
ate and drank together, and it seemed most natural
and happy, as if they were doing it every day. Of all
meals, breakfast and tea create the most domestic
atmosphere. There is always a sense of invitation, of
host and guest, at luncheon and dinner.
"Tell me why you think Mr. Haines has a private
trouble," said Claudia thoughtfully, as she drank her
tea. It was growing dusk in the large room, but he
310 EXILE
had not rung for lights, and Hervey's servants knew
when to wait for orders.
"He has broken with Miss Playfair," said Hervey
bluntly.
"Did he tell you so?"
"No; he has not been capable of telling anybody
anything as yet. He has babbled simply gibbered
all day. But that is the gist of it."
"I wonder why!" said Claudia slowly. "The girl
herself came to me some days ago, as I told you, and
asked me for advice, and I told her that it was as bad.
as murder to marry without love. I would have told
her that it was worse an outrage on decency if she
had not been so young. But I could not put it plainer."
"You were brave to say so much."
"I have a right to speak. I have bought my own
experience. But I do not think she meant to break it
off herself, nevertheless. At least, she would not do
so yet. She was thinking it out. Something must
have happened."
"You thought it was Merryn?"
"I thought it might be. Men are so very final ! A
girl is simply a creature of possibilities, and it may
not even have taken form in her mind. Do you think
Rodney Haines is going to live, Ritchie?"
"I can't say. The doctor thinks not!" Hervey
never minced matters. "If we can pull him through
we shall."
"I shall think of you so much! But don't fall ill
yourself."
"I ! I'm like a camel nothing kills me !"
He laughed tenderly, and his large hand closed over
hers. Each fresh proof of her interest in him, or her
EXILE 311
tenderness, seemed like a most beautiful gift to Hervey.
He did not know that he had ever wanted tenderness,
but as she gave it whole-heartedly, so he took it, drink-
ing it into his thirsty soul like one who had been dying
of drought.
It was not until she was leaving that Claudia re-
membered to tell him what she had overheard in the
village. "There will be trouble about this murder
trial amongst the Arabs if Haroun AH is discharged,"
she said. "Stanley Murgatroyd did tell me something,
and I tried to warn my husband. But what I heard
to-day makes it more imperative. Do you think I
ought to speak again?"
His face set in a kind of grey sternness as it always
did at the mention of Everard. "I would rather you
did not," he said plainly. "For I think you are only
wasting your breath on your own showing, and I hate
your having any recrimination from him. But I am
thinking only of you."
"I know," she answered simply. "There is a way,
however, in which I think I could force his attention
in which I could frighten him. I did not want to
use it, but I left myself the chance for safety's sake."
She had used a damning word, as she knew by his
quick movement towards her, even as they stood at
the door waiting for the carriage which he had sent
his servants to call.
"Claudia, will you promise me to come straight to
me if you are in any real trouble if there is really
any need of 'safety'?" he said, and his voice shook
a little. "If you do not, I think I cannot bear to let
you go I must keep you here now, from this minute."
"Oh, I promise I do indeed, Ritchie." She did
312 EXILE
not laugh the sense of his strength and protection
was far too precious for laughter. "But I always feel
you in the background as my safeguard whatever I
may do."
"I can't bear this life for you!" he burst out rest-
lessly, even as the carriage came in view. "I feel as
if we lived on a precipice. And this illness of Haines
hampers me a little. Remember, Claudia, even if I
am out here, you will be safe in the house in Reserve.
My servants have orders. You will remember?"
"I will remember!" she said, and with the word
pledged back to him she sprang into the carriage and
was driven away.
She had no opportunity of speaking to Everard
that night, for he dined out at the American consul's,
and she hesitated to sit up and wait for him. The
defence of her locked door was all that assured her of
safety, and even then she was conscious of sleeping
lightly, her sense still on the alert. He did not break-
fast with her either, and she learned that he had gone
into Reserve again early, but the weight of her new
knowledge began to lie heavy on her conscience, and
during the morning she rang up Murgatroyd and
asked for the date of the murder trial. She was aware
that it had been fixed for an early date, for some pur-
pose that she did not guess, unless it were a fear of
straining the temper of the people too long; but Mur-
gatroyd's answer struck her as ominous.
"The trial of Haroun AH is fixed for Wednesday,"
was the Crown Prosecutor's formal answer. He had
come to the telephone himself, but he spoke almost
as to a stranger.
"This next Wednesday?" she persisted.
EXILE 313
"Yes."
"But that is the day after to-morrow ?"
"Yes."
Claudia's heart beat a little thickly. It was very
near, but there was still time. She had an engage-
ment that afternoon, but she did not expect Everard
to return until dinner-time, and she felt that it would
be intolerable to sit and wait for him. When she
returned, about six o'clock, she learned that he had
just come in and was in his room, and without waiting
to take off her hat she sent the butler to ask if he
would come and speak to her as soon as he was at
liberty. The formal summons marked her attitude,
and she forbore intentionally to^go and knock at his
door herself.
He had been changing the clothes he had worn all
day, and when he came into the drawing-room he
looked cool and easy and well groomed. A satisfac-
tion with his own personal appearance always acted
like a soothing cordial upon Everard, and, despite any
anger he might feel against her, he could afford to
smile at Claudia as he sat down in a lounging chair
and took a cigarette from the table near by. Claudia
moved her position a trifle, so that the little table with
the ash-tray and matches was between them. She
glanced at the open jalousies onto the verandah too,
as if to be sure she was not shut in with him. But
both actions were instinctive, and she never knew why
she had made them.
"You have been out, I hear," he said casually.
"Calling anywhere?"
"I went to the Bunneys, and on to the Club for half
an hour to play bridge until Lady Stroud arrived.
314 EXILE
They wanted a fourth, and I had promised Mrs.
Bunney."
"Heard any news?"
"Only that Mr. Haines is no better."
"Rather worse," corrected Everard with a smile.
"I heard that at luncheon. He may go at any minute."
She looked at him with a momentary wonder in
her long-lashed eyes. She had known that he did not.
like Haines, but that any human being could so blat-
antly please himself with a man's possible death
seemed to her incredible. She remembered now that
he had spoken in the same tone when he first told her
that Lestoc had gone into hospital after six months in
prison, and that at the time she had mechanically re-
fused to understand it as too hideous a thing to re-
alise. Even now that he had left her no illusions with
regard to him she changed the subject abruptly.
"I heard to-day that Haroun Ali's trial is fixed for
Wednesday, Edgar," she said steadily.
He nodded. He was looking down at the nails of
his daintily-kept hands, and fastidiously smoothed
away a piece of skin at the base of one as he spoke.
"Yes, Wednesday," he said. "Somers has the matter
in hand."
"Somers?" she said in some surprise. "I thought
he was not thought much of as an attorney. Why
not Ralston?"
"Ralston was struck off the rolls last year, my dear.
You forget!" He showed those pointed teeth a little
in a smile that did not reach his eyes.
Claudia had forgotten; but she remembered now
that Ralston had not been Edgar Everard's tool as
Somers was likely to be, and surmised that he had
EXILE 315
been "removed" for this reason when Everard first
became Acting Chief Justice. The Bar at Exile con-
sisted of a barrister and two attorneys, the Crown
Prosecutor being also police magistrate, assignee in
bankruptcy, and several other things that made his
co-operation with the Chief Justice a consideration to
him. There was no one to oppose Everard seriously.
"I am not asking whether you have made up your
mind as to Haroun Ali's sentence," said Claudia de-
liberately, after a moment's thought. "That lies on
your own conscience. But I am obliged to warn you
that the man is firmly believed to have committed the
murder by the Arab population, and that the jury will
probably find him guilty. If you discharge him in
spite of that there is likely to be a demonstration."
She half expected one at the present moment, rec-
ognising that his temper was waiting for an outlet to
be revenged upon her, but he took it with a quietude
that was ominous in conjunction with the face he
turned on her.
"And would you advise me to go against my 'con-
science' and hang him, whether I believe him proved
guilty or no, for fear of angering the Arab popula-
tion?" he asked smoothly. "Really, Claudia, for a
woman as professedly moral as yourself the sugges-
tion is infamous!"
"I do not advise you either in one way or another,"
she said composedly, and with an indifference that
obviously galled him. "But I read the evidence my-
self, after the magistrate in Banishment committed
the murderer for trial, and it is so strong that an
acquittal would give an impression to any unpreju-
diced mind that there was miscarriage of justice. All
316 EXILE
I ask for indeed, I insist is that you carefully weigh
this in your own mind before you find means to ac-
quit him. If you decide to do so whatever the result
to yourself, I hope that you will forewarn the police.
That is all."
Her level voice seemed to carry some sort of con-
viction with it, for that furtive look came back to his
face and with it the anger that is born of fear.
"And where did you hear all this, Claudia?" he
asked with less suavity and more impatience. "This
solicitude for my safety is very right and proper in a
wife, even one who locks the door on her husband!"
He glanced at her to see if the personal shaft went
home, but she took no notice. "But you must have
some foundation for this kindly warning. Come!
where did you hear it?" he ended sharply.
"You had better ask Stanley Murgatroyd," she said
quietly. "He has heard it too."
He flung back his shoulders and expanded his chest
with a mirthless laugh. "Oh, so you have a common
source of information!" he said. "Well, it would be
uncivil to say 'Mind your own business' to a lady, but
let me tell you that you and Stanley can warn me to
the Day of Judgment before you'll either of you in-
fluence one word of my judgments. I am not such a
coward as you think me !"
She glanced at him almost pityingly, recognising
the old mental pedestal on which he always placed
himself though he might be proved a cheat to his face.
She knew that he was alarmed and that he would take
the coward's chance to secure himself if he really saw
cause for fear. But he was also too certain of the
security of his official position, and as long as he had
EXILE 317
the support of the Government he believed in no gen-
eral risk. What he had feared was Hervey's power
to rouse the people backed by his own disclosures, and
a stab in the dark for personal reasons, or that he
would be set upon at any unarmed moment. A gen-
eral rising or demonstration at the court-house would
be a matter for the police or the troops; and, indeed,
he hardly believed it possible. He was fatuous in his
sense of judicial power and influenced by some un-
known motive not to hang Haroun Ali. Claudia rec-
ognised this, but she had done her best to warn him,
and believed that she had so far succeeded that he
would inform the police. She could not bring more
pressure to bear when it was a question of a man's
life, even though he was blatantly guilty ; but she had
another word to say on a different matter.
"Wait a minute, Edgar!" she said as he half rose
and seemed inclined to regard the whole matter as fin-
ished. "I want to speak to you about the Azeopardi
case as well."
"I should not advise you to! I have stood enough
interference for the time being."
His tone was that of the bully, but her manner re-
mained absolutely unmoved.
"You forget, I think, that you took me into your
confidence without any wish on my part. You have
told me plainly that Azeopardi is to be removed out
of your path because of his share in the silk trade. I
did not wish to know this, certainly, but you insisted
on my understanding it. Now I have something to
say on my side."
He was listening now. His stealthy hands were
playing with each other as they hung linked between
318 EXILE
his knees, and his eyes were narrowed almost to two
slits. But Claudia held steadily on.
"There was evidence of the motive of this case
against Azeopardi in that letter you sent to Mr. Her-
vey," she said, and did not flinch under his glinting
eyes even from the reference.
"Yes, and that evidence is destroyed !" he said jeer-
ingly. "Are you going to remind me of the price I
paid for it? The price of my honour?"
Her short upper lip lifted a little scornfully, with-
out the smile that usually made it beautiful. "It
seems to me that your honour was lost long ago in
Banishment !" she said significantly. "We will let that
pass. Mr. Hervey does not hold any power over you
with regard to the Azeopardi case "
"No, and may rot in hell before he does again 1" he
said exultantly.
"Butf I do."
"You? What in "
"I hold the letter."
"The letter was destroyed!"
"The letter was not destroyed."
"I burnt it!" he gasped, staring at her with horrible
distended eyes.
"Excuse me, you burnt the envelope that had held
it and a copy that I made in case you should look at it.
When you saw your own handwriting you were in too
great a hurry. I calculated on that."
With a sudden oath, too coarse to record, he lurched
forward out of the chair and was almost upon her.
"You are lying! Show me the letter!" he almost
shouted.
"I am not lying, and the letter is in safer hands than
EXILE 319
mine at the present moment," she said, and her tone
was very quiet compared to his, though she had moved
swiftly back out of his reach.
"Hervey?" he said with stiff lips.
"No, not Mr. Hervey. He has nothing more to
do with it. I have placed that letter with instructions
to examine it under certain circumstances, where you
cannot get at it. If you adjudicate on this Azeopardi
case fairly it will not be used against you. But if
there is any more miscarriage of justice "
She was interrupted by the crash of the little table
between them. He had sprung at her, blind with
rage, his hands groping wickedly for her throat. She
had not realised that a man with unbridled passions is
worse than a madman, for the insane have some cun-
ning of prudence. For a minute she was in his grip,
his left arm holding her in a vice, his right hand seek-
ing for something with which to kill. She saw in a
flash how easy it would be for him to murder her and
lay it on the Arab servants even to commit a double
murder and swear that he saved her from violence and
that the Arab's death was an accident. For a minute
they rocked and swung in a silence that was far more
dreadful than a shriek, and then with a last desperate
desire for life she flung her whole body forward in-
stead of holding back, trusting to her height to over-
weight him. He staggered with the unexpected im-
petus, caught his foot in the fallen table, and fell,
nearly dragging her with him.
The minute she felt his grip relax Claudia shook
herself free and, turning, darted across the open space
through the pillars of the dining-room and into Ever-
ard's own bedroom, swinging the door behind her.
320 EXILE
She knew that he would take a minute to pick himself
up and follow her, and the pause would probably sober
him ; but she was too instinct with terror to depend on
that. All she hoped was that he had not seen which
room she had entered and would break into her own.
She crossed his room and sprang out of the open
jalousies, then turning away from her own room ran
along the verandah that went all round the bungalow
and dropped into the compound before she reached the
servants' quarters. She bent low, almost doubling
her body in two, but still running, and passed safely
round the angle of the house to the front. Then for
a moment she hesitated. The gate was wide open,
but between her and it was the wide sweep of the
compound, and away in the house behind her she heard
a door bang and expected Everard to emerge on the
verandah. He might come round on this side of the
house, or he might turn towards his own room. It
was hardly a moment during which she hesitated be-
fore with a gasp that was a prayer she had rushed
out of the gate and was running fast down the hill,
still close under the friendly wall of their own com-
pound.
She was still, fortunately for her, dressed for the
outside world, her hat on her head; but she had no
veil, and it was impossible to run once she reached
the broad road at the foot of the Rocks. It was
growing dusk, and there were few vehicles about,
thank God! She did not know that her breath was
gone when she reached the foot of the hill, or that she
was bruised and shaken; she was only conscious that
she still lived, and that she had saved her life, some-
how, for Richmond Hervey. The tragedy of the past
EXILE 321
few minutes seemed almost impossible save for her
shuddering limbs. No one would have believed it
even if she had told them. Only she herself knew
that in a breathing space her husband might have been
a homicide and that she had stood in mortal danger.
In all men's lives there is possibly the one moment
when they have the will, if not the intent, to commit
murder. Claudia Everard had seen it plainly, face to
face, that was all.
There was a little gharry, or two-seated vehicle for
hire, coming along the road from the desert, possibly
from taking some of the richer Arabs back to Gol-
gotha. It was not such a carriage as Jalbhoy let out
to the Europeans in Exile if their own cars were un-
der repair, but a springless linen-covered thing drawn
by a shambling Somali pony. Claudia hailed it before
her running feet had faltered to a walk and directed
the driver hastily to Reserve; but even as the vehicle
turned round to take her back to the Cutting she
looked out with shrinking eyes along the way she had
come to see if she were pursued. Then she composed
herself, forced herself to lean back in the little car-
riage, and drew herself as. far as might be out of
sight. It was a desperate fight, and she was playing
the game of life for Hervey's sake.
She still had a chiffon scarf over her shoulders, but
it was torn she supposed when she wrestled with
her husband. She took it off, and, tearing away the
torn fragments, used the remaining width as a veil
to tie over her hat. Then she breathed more freely,
for the scarf disguised her somewhat, but as they
turned into the Cutting the sound of the waking echoes
of the place made her start and glance behind again.
322 EXILE
There was nothing to be seen from the receding en-
trance through which they had driven, but far down
the road she thought she heard the horn of a motor
a Gabriel horn that she recognised.
For a minute Mrs. Everard sat forward gripping
her hands, and with her head bent. There were some
camels in front of her, and possibly another vehicle,
but the traffic was regulated by gates at either end,
only a certain number being allowed through at a time,
and the next string, whether foot passengers or
vehicles, having to wait until the preceding had passed
out into the road to Reserve. Claudia had heard the
gate close behind her, but whether the motor were
waiting there or had gone on down the road she could
not tell. As they passed out of the Cutting and clat-
tered down the broad road to Reserve she calculated
that her only safety lay in the maze of streets in the
native quarter wherein she could hide herself. She
directed the gharry driver to put her down at the mar-
ket, on the outskirts of the town, and paid him there,
seeing him drive away with relief. If he were met and
questioned she would be well out of sight and lost in
the bazaars before she could be pursued.
She knew the direction of the street in which Her-
vey's house stood, though she had only been there that
once; but she had never been on foot in Reserve be-
fore when by herself. Fortunately she had often gone
about with the Mission sisters, visiting all sorts of
Arab houses, or she might have been more frightened.
The Arabs passing her in the dusk turned and stared,
and a man spoke to her in passing, probably thinking
that she might not understand. She caught a few
words and almost ran. Then she remembered that
EXILE 323
the sisters often went alone, and it gave her courage.
What they could do she would do they for their re-
ligion and she for her love.
She crossed one street and turned into another, be-
coming confused with the odd turnings and narrow
byeways. She was afraid to ask her way for fear of
attracting attention or insult, and held steadily on,
looking for certain landmarks to guide her. She
thought afterwards that she must have missed the
street she wanted some half-dozen times, and have
walked for half an hour, before she recognised it sud-
denly and with dusty clothes and tired feet made her
way to the door in the wall.
It was quite dark now. Overhead the stars were
coming out, and that strange scent of dried woods and
powdered spices was wafted to her from the clothes
of some passing Mahomedan lady come out to take the
air. Claudia thought of the great cushioned divan,
the security of the walled-in roof, and the rest and
peace for her weary limbs. Not until the door opened
and a servant held a lamp high over her head to see
her face did she feel safe. Then she heard an ex-
clamation, and the man stood aside to let her pass in,
closing the door behind her.
With the sound of the grating lock the stress and
strain of the past few hours seemed to sweep over
Claudia with a horrible reaction. She half-stumbled,
and if the man had not helped her she could not have
got up the stairs and into the house. Then when she
reached the room where she had found Hervey she
sank down quietly on the couch and looked round the
empty space with grateful eyes before they closed.
She felt like a lost child that has, come home.
CHAPTER XIX
"Oh, my beloved, so passionately wooed,
In your new freedom, sweet, forget not this
That he who loves you gives you liberty
And joy transcendant, when the rightful lover,
Predestined by mysterious powers to be
Heart of your heart, the days at length discover.
Think then a little, not untenderly,
Of one who walks where only sad ghosts hover."
PHILLIP BOURKE MARSTON.
IT is positively appalling how the calls mount up!"
said Lady Stroud. "One would not think there
were so many people in Exile. I believe I have
twenty to pay. Really, Mr. Merryn must take the
car and leave cards for me instead of going off to
polo."
"Poor devil!" said the Admiral, helping himself
liberally to his favourite breakfast dish of curried
eggs. "He hasn't had much chance to play anything
lately. Haines' illness has overworked the Colonial
Treasurer and myself, and we in turn have over-
worked our staffs!" he added with a small grimace.
"Have you heard how he is this morning?" said
Lady Stroud anxiously. There was only one "he"
at Government House since Mr. Haines was reported
at Hervey's bungalow with "condition serious" added
by the Port surgeon.
324
EXILE 325
"Barbara was at the telephone this morning. Where
is the girl? She's late!"
"I don't know," said Lady Stroud almost irritably.
"She must have heard the gong. It seems to me that
people in any trouble always show it by being late for
meals! Oh, here she comes and Mr. Merryn."
Barbara and the Flag-Lieutenant entered at the
same moment, it is true, but from different sides of
the dining-room, whose many openings afforded them
ample scope. They said "good-morning" to each other
formally, and it was obvious that they had not met
before to-day. Merryn, indeed, had been at work since
sunrise, and Miss Playfair had not been out of the
bungalow. She took her seat quietly, and answered
the Admiral's inquiry for Mr. Haines in a lifeless tone.
"His temperature is a point lower, Uncle Jonathan
105 degrees."
"Come! that's something gained. How did they
say he was?"
"The nurse answered me. They are afraid of col-
lapse after the fever."
The girl's manner was quite composed, but her
young face was almost haggard. It seemed an awful
thing that had happened to her, and Lady Stroud's
resentment was disarmed, though she guessed at un-
revealed motives for the tragedy. She had noticed
that Barbara no longer wore the gold filigree ring on
her left hand, even before the news of Haines' seizure,
and because she had grown very fond of the Colonial
Secretary she had naturally laid the first blame on
the girl.
"Barbara," she had said as soon as she could get
326 EXILE
her niece alone, "had you had any quarrel with Rod-
ney?"
"No, Aunt Fanny. We did not quarrel."
"But you no longer wear his ring!"
"He took it back!" said Barbara a little wildly.
"He came to the conclusion that we had made a mis-
take and gave me back my freedom."
But Lady Stroud was outraged in her dignity by
this bald statement of fact minus extenuating circum-
stances.
"Mr. Haines is an honourable man and a gentle-
man," she said decidedly. "He would never have
broken the engagement unless you had yourself wished
it apart from the fact that he was hopelessly in
love!" she added, almost exasperated by the girl's
silence. "Did you ask him to release you?"
"No, Aunt Fanny."
"But he knew you wished it?"
"He thought it was a mistake," said Barbara dog-
gedly. For once her bald honesty seemed to have
deserted her. She would make no confidence.
"Did you wish it, Barbara?"
"I agreed with Mr. Haines that it was a mistake!"
"But the initiative must have come from you in
the first instance! Unless you want to lay the blame
on poor Rodney Haines, I think you had better ac-
knowledge that. You told him that you did not care
for him ? He found it out ?"
"I am ready to take all the blame, Aunt Fanny,"
said Barbara with an effort. "It was my fault But
until Mr. Haines is better I can't discuss it."
She was really very much to be pitied, though Lady
Stroud did not realise it. The breaking with Haines
EXILE 327
had been a humiliation to her, because it lowered her
standard of herself. She did not know how she had
betrayed herself and Merryn, but clearly she had not
been "playing the game" as she had promised that she
would, as Haines had found the chink in her armour.
Immediately following on his breaking of the engage-
ment had come a momentary reaction in which she
had felt herself free, with the weight of all that had
depressed her taken off her shoulders the demands
on her nature which she could not satisfy, the grow-
ing sense of disaster in a future spent with Haines,
the misery of discovering that love was something
quite different, and that it had lain, for her, in an-
other direction. Then for a few hours she had had
a shy sense of looking forward to a real happiness
not at once, not until she had gone home to England
again (no doubt to be scolded), but when she met
Merryn at home perhaps, in the cold northern tem-
perature that suited them both and in the atmosphere
that they knew and understood best. Even Barbara's
prognostications of bliss were not very romantic; she
had a vague idea that it would be "awfully jolly" to
meet Merryn at home, in the summer, and to go about
together in the country, where there was plenty of
tennis and cricket and otter-hunting. I do not think
she actually imagined him proposing to her in a stickle,
or plunged the affair into several feet of cold water
while they mutually watched a holt; but I am quite
sure that she would have taken the situation with
hearty good-will and accepted him in the same breath
with which she cried "Heu Gaze !"
She was not, anyhow, allowed much time for her
day-dreams, however prosaic. With the next morning
328 EXILE
had come the news of Haines' illness, and the shock
of it all had left her paralysed. She could not tell
Lady Stroud about her broken engagement of her own
free will, and only admitted it on being questioned.
While Haines lay between life and death it was im-
possible to set gossip going by announcing that the
marriage would not take place after the fashion of a
verbal Morning Post; it seemed indecent even to think
of it. It was horrible to Barbara to be sympathised
with as a broken-hearted bride-elect when her drawn
face was as much due to remorse as anxiety, and her
native honesty made her position well-nigh intolerable.
But she bore it with set lips and declined to say more
than she had to Lady Stroud. She had never 'men-
tioned Merry n's name in connection with it ; she hardly
spoke to him or looked at him beyond civility, and
she never went into the office now to print photo-
graphs. Being in love had wrought that change in
her at least, that she had learned to defend her one
secret.
She had not really faced the possibility of Haines'
death until the morning when she learned the fact
that once the fever left him the doctor and nurses
feared collapse learned it baldly through the tele-
phone, where there is little chance of softening details.
It was a solution of all difficulties impossible even
to contemplate. Barbara's face seemed to have altered
to Lady Stroud as seen across the breakfast table;
it looked no longer young, and she saw as in a flash
what she would be like as a middle-aged woman.
"If she were really in love with him one would
say it was that," said Lady Stroud to herself. "It is
remorse it is not love, but it is terrible all the same.
EXILE 329
I wonder why she should blame herself so cruelly just
because she could not care for him sufficiently and he
found it out! It is not as if there were another man."
And she never even glanced at the Flag-Lieutenant,
eating hot breakfast cake and discussing the coming
murder trial with the Admiral. Cupid takes many
unlikely forms, but he never took a more unlikely one
to Lady Stroud's mind than the young man with the
smooth burnt face and good blue eyes that said noth-
ing. She was really fond of Arthur Merry n, who re-
minded her of her own boy, at present somewhere on
the Cape Station; but perhaps for this very reason
she regarded him from the standpoint of a mother,
rather as a little boy who must be allowed cricket bats
and guns to play with, but who could not be seriously
thinking of women from a man's point of view.
"I'm afraid he is very unpopular, sir!" he was say-
ing to the Governor. "And if he lets Haroun AH off
it will make him more so."
"Are you speaking of the Chief Justice?" Lady
Stroud chimed in, glad to get away from the con-
templation of Barbara's face. "I hear that Mrs.
Everard has gone to Health. Captain Bunney came
in last night while you were at Major Dalkeith's,
Jonathan, and told me he had seen Mr. Everard at
the Club. It seems rather sudden I think she must
have done it to avoid the trial to-morrow !"
"Wise woman !" said the Admiral drily. "Have you
heard any rumours from the Arab quarters, Merryn?
I will not have a demonstration."
"There may be a crowd to hiss him, sir."
"The police can see to that. It would be as well to
warn them, perhaps."
330 EXILE
There was a line in Merryn's smooth forehead as
he peeled an orange. Fruit was a luxury, and a con-
signment from Bombay only appeared on the breakfast
table at Government House. "The police are Arabs,
sir," he reminded the Governor. "And I heard that
they sympathise with the bazaars."
"Oh, Jonathan!" said Lady Stroud involuntarily.
"Wouldn't it be well to warn the garrison?"
"We should ensure a demonstration if it got about
that we had done that !" said the Admiral drily. "Make
these people think you expect it, and they'll give it to
you. I don't want any street brawling and rifles going
off unintentionally. If the police wanted help they
could telephone the Marines and have it in twenty
minutes."
Mr. Merryn said nothing. In his mind he wished
savagely that he were a policeman with a street brawl
or anything else in front of him. For he felt that
there are times when a man wants to knock a few heads
together.
It was a wretched day. No one on the staff had a
chance to play polo or to get away for a swim, and
there were twenty calls to be worked off Lady Stroud's
list. One would not have thought there were so many
houses to visit in Exile, as she had said. In the after-
noon two men came to call and hindered Lady Stroud
from going out Mr. Yarrow and a brother officer in
the Marines and the talk turned on the murder trial
again. "Battle, murder, and sudden death!" Merryn
began to feel as if they were in the air, and pricked
even his steady nerves.
"I suppose there is no hope of Haroun AH being
hanged?" said Lady Stroud as she dispensed tea to
EXILE 331
her visitors and wished they would go. "Really, I feel
like a murderess myself demanding the poor man's
life like this! But if he is released they say there
will be an epidemic of crime."
"There will be an epidemic of missiles for Mr.
Everard !" said Yarrow explosively. "He simply can't
discharge the fellow with all the evidence against him.
It's an open scandal if he does."
"Yes," said Lady Stroud with a sigh. "Only Mr.
Everard has made so many open scandals he seems
to like them ! And after all, nothing has happened to
him so far."
"Something is going to happen this time," said Yar-
row. "You mark my words, Lady Stroud ; if Everard
lets Haroun AH off there will be something to do in
Exile at last !"
"You are making me dreadfully nervous, Mr. Yar-
row and you look quite pleased!"
"Well, I shouldn't be very sorry if the Chief Justice
had to run for it !" said Yarrow ingenuously. "I don't
love him, Lady Stroud. If it weren't for the uniform
I'd like to go in the crowd and yell 'Ibn kelb!' with
the best of them."
"But he represents our authority we must uphold
our own judge and his decisions, whatever they are."
"Yes, unfortunately. Oh, it will be all right, of
course. Let's hope that Everard will come to his senses
in time and hang the man. Have you heard how Mr.
Haines is to-day?"
"No better, I am afraid."
"Miss Play fair must be awfully cut up!"
"Very," said Lady Stroud briefly, and across her
memory for Barbara was not present rose the vision
332 EXILE
of that drawn, matured face at the breakfast table.
Certainly Barbara was "cut up" by something. "Won't
you have some more tea and cake?"
She hoped they wouldn't, but of course they did,
being still young enough to like cake; and then when
they were really gone it was too late to do more than
leave a few cards. The red motor car wound up and
down the crazy Rocks, checking at the little bungalows
like cardboard houses set on the plateaus, and Mr.
Merryn got in and out and handed pasteboard to the
Arab butlers with an impassible countenance, while
his hostess not infrequently watched him from behind
the jalousies.
"There's poor Mr. Merryn A.D.C.-ing as usual!
Lady Stroud is not coming in. I suppose we are next
on the dinner list !"
A strange custom this of making a ticket of your
name to pass the recipient up the front stairs of colonial
society. Lady Stroud's cards were all tickets, "Admit
Captain and Mrs. So-and-so to visiting terms at Gov-
ernment House," the acquaintance to take rank accord-
ing to His Majesty's commission. Sometimes she
thought of England, when her husband's service should
be over and they should move in a sphere where visit-
ing-cards have gone out of fashion, perhaps because
there is no society to be admitted. Of all unsalaried
officials I think a Colonial Governor's wife serves the
Empire most uncomplainingly, and her husband's suc-
cess very often rests in her busy, quiet hands, uphold-
ing the British prestige indoors and out and finding her
personal interests a forlorn hope.
The red motor came back to Government House at
half -past seven. The sun was down, and the quick
EXILE 333
darkness was creeping up over the Rocks, but the elec-
tric light was not yet blossoming in the garrison.
"Thank goodness that's over!" said Lady Stroud.
"How many did we do, Mr. Merryn?"
"Only ten, Lady Stroud."
"Ten more, and most at a distance! I can't call in
Reserve to-morrow if this dreadful trial is on. Has his
Excellency come in yet, Mahomed?"
"Yes, Excellency. He dresses himself !"
Lady Stroud suppressed a smile and went through
the drawing-room to her own room for the cherished
confidences of the half-hour before dinner. Mr. Mer-
ryn walked into the dining-room for a lemon squash,
for his throat was dry with the dust. As he crossed
the hall again on his way out to his own quarters he
hesitated, turned to his right, and went quietly into
the compound. It needs the sight of young eyes to see
a figure in the dusk of Exile, but he had not been
mistaken in that white gown. As he neared her he
heard her humming a waltz tune under her breath,
and it was significant that she no longer sang to strict
rhythm and nothing else.
"It might have been ! If we had known
All our hearts told us in the past.
But another came between . . ."
"I cannot bear to see you looking like this like you
do every day," he said in a low, guarded tone, and
somehow he seemed an older man with the very words.
"Would it make it any easier for you if I went away?"
"No!" said Barbara under her breath. She looked
up at him through the dusk with horrified eyes. "Do
you think it was my fault ? I have thought and thought
334 EXILE
and I cannot tell what it was that made him know
what it was I did!"
"You have told me nothing "
"He took back the ring he had given me," said
the girl, almost under her breath. "He said he
knew "
"There was nothing to know!"
"I think we both played the game," said the girl
simply. "I would have told him so if he had given
me a chance. I did say I was sorry and he told me
not to be*"
"Are you sorry?" he said quickly. He did not mean
to be selfish, but it was his right to know.
"No," she answered. "I am not sorry I am only
miserable. About him, you know !"
"Yes, I know," said Merryn. So long as she was
not sorry sorry for that brief minute in the office
and their breathless revelation he did not mind her
being miserable. It was the only decent thing for her
to be under the circumstances.
"It's rotten altogether!" he said comprehensively.
"His being ill like this and not being able to do any-
thing!"
Barbara looked down at her long white hands in
the dusk. The third ringer of the left hand felt odd
and bare, and she rubbed it mechanically. She had
forgotten that it was in the compound, almost on this
very spot, that Rodney Haines had knelt at her knee
and persuaded her past reason, for associations did not
speak to her; but she had never grown easy with that
outward and visible sign, her engagement ring, and
the loss of it reminded her of her discomfort.
EXILE 335
"Do you think 'I ought to go to him if when he
gets better?" she said in a troubled voice.
"If he asks for you ?"
"I'm afraid I ought to offer."
"No," said Merryn quite firmly. "You might do
more harm than good. If he asks for you I suppose
it's only decent to go, but if not he doesn't want to
rake it all up. I shouldn't in his place."
She heaved a sigh of relief. "All right! I'm glad
I asked you. You always understand." They looked
at each other solemnly through the growing dusk like
two children. "Good-night!" said Barbara softly.
"I'm not coming to dinner; Aunt Fanny said I needn't.
There are people dining here."
"Good-night !" he said almost stiffly. Her left hand
was free of that damning pledge; she was free herself
to follow her own inclination. And yet Rodney
Haines was lying at Hervey's bungalow fighting for
his life. No, not yet. It wouldn't be "playing the
game/' somehow.
He drew back for her to pass him, tall and very
fair in the dusk. His face, with its rather boyish
reserve, had suddenly gained the purpose of a man's.
He was probably the duplicate of a hundred young
Englishmen who love the prototype of Barbara Play-
fair, but for all that he seemed to have won an in-
dividuality.
Barbara raised her eyes as if by instinct to the
heavens, even as she passed into the bungalow, and
though they showed her nothing but the cloudless
night skies of Exile, she felt as if somewhere there
ought to be a rainbow.
CHAPTER XX
''Eyes shall meet eyes and find no eyes between,
Lips feed on lips, no other lips to fear !
No past, no future so thine arms but screen
The present from surprise ! Not there, 'tis here
Not then, 'tis now; back, memories that intrude!
Make, Love, the universe one solitude,
And, over all the rest, oblivion roll
Sense, quenching soul."
BROWNING.
"D ICHMOND HERVEY sat in one of the wide,
-*-^ airy rooms of his bungalow, with his broad
shoulders propped against the cushions of a lounging
chair and his head resting against the padded back. It
was a restful attitude, chosen for patience, for he
had been there for some time, and expected to watch
an hour longer. Outside the wind was blowing freely
across the desert, but finding nothing to impede it in
those naked miles of sand ; therefore it made no sound
until it reached the telephone wires or the buildings
of Golgotha. There it pressed round the walls, shat-
tering silence. The jalousies of the upper room
where Hervey sat were half closed, but he could hear
the wind in the verandah outside and the soughing of
it in the crowns of his date-palms. On a table near
at hand were bottles and stimulants and ice wrapped
in flannel in a bucket. On the bed lay something that
tossed and jabbered and held wordless conversations
with its own soul, because the veil of the flesh was
336
EXILE 337
worn thin and it was face to face with a bottomless
gulf.
Hervey had been at work during a portion of his
vigil, for there was a heap of torn papers waiting to
be cleared away by his servants and certain letters
and memoranda tied into packets on the table by his
side. A residence of fifteen years leaves something
to be cleared up, even in Exile, and he was getting his
affairs in order. He had sent in his resignation al-
ready. There was no indecision in Richmond Hervey
for good or ill. Where he set his will, there his foot
followed.
As the sick man's mutterings had grown worse
Hervey had laid aside his employment and simply
waited. There was nothing to do but watch, the
nurse had told him, and he could call her if there
were any marked change. As long as the fever lasted
they did not fear. She took an hour off gladly, leav-
ing Hervey as her lieutenant, for experience had
taught her that he was to be trusted at his post. The
night nurse was sleeping, but the day nurse the one
Hervey had relieved was thankful to go out in the
garden even in the hot noon, to walk a little under
the behindi trees. The outside world was baking, but
there was always the desert wind. It was not like
the Fort, where the Rocks flung out furnace odours
from their sun smitten sides.
Hervey was not looking at the bed, and trying not
to listen to Haines' broken words. He had a feeling
that it was indecent to stare at and listen to his help-
lessness. His thoughts had gone to Claudia, and the
wonder as to how soon they would start for Europe.
It was like wandering in a flowerful garden to think
338 EXILE
of her a better garden than the one below. She
made him feel the cool scented wind and see the rain-
bow of the flowers, and follow the windings of some
dear path that led past springy lawns and the sun and
shadow of great trees. The man's harsh face softened,
and the lines seemed to be wiped out of it by some
gentle hand, so that he looked younger than his years.
She had given him such a wonderful thing! The
beauty even of a lesser love might have made some-
thing different out of the strong material of Hervey's
nature had he chanced on it years ago; but Claudia
had brought the dowry of a queen with her and came
with her heart full and running over. It was as if
she poured out riches at his feet and dazzled him.
Suddenly he was aware of a sharper tone in the
sick man's murmurings and of words disentangling
themselves from the broken babble. Hervey rose
more quietly than seemed possible with his great
frame and went round to the bedside, leaning over
his patient with a little movement of protection that
was almost pathetic. Haines had raised himself in
bed, and was staring with his hollow eyes out of
cavernous sockets. All the angles of his face seemed
accentuated, and a three days' growth of beard altered
him almost out of recognition.
"All the little devils running over the desert, Her-
vey !" he said grasping at Hervey's muscular arm with
his long fingers. He had wasted very quickly under
the fever, and those musician's hands were like claws.
"Running away in lines and lines always running.
Don't let them pass me, Hervey Hervey 'Hervey!"
His eyes wandered away from Hervey's face as
though the momentary recognition had died away,
EXILE 339
but he still sought for his friend in the distance and
clung to his strength. Hervey stood patiently lean-
ing over him, letting those thin hands hold on to the
reality of his great muscles.
"All right, old man!" he said soothingly. "I won't
let them pass. It's all right, Haines !"
The clinging grip relaxed after a minute, and the
blue eyes went blank as the babble died down to mere
words repeated over and over: "Rocks rocks
rocks ! Desert desert desert ! Thirst thirst
thirst!" He lay back on his pillow in a little while,
and Hervey drew the sheet over him, still leaning
above him with that patient tenderness, and trying not
to hear the name that came to Haines' lips with the
sound of a wail: "Barbara! Barbara! Oh, my
God, this pain ! Barbara !"
The nurse, entering a little later, found him still by
the bedside, and with her quick soft step came close
to his side.
"Has he been restless?" she asked with that grave
restraint that marks the professional from the flurried
amateur. "There is a telephone message for you, Mr.
Hervey ; I came up to relieve guard."
"He recognised me for a minute," said Hervey,
drawing back slowly to let her take his place. "Then
he wandered off again, but he seems quieter as long*
as I am near by."
"That is more than he has done as yet," said the
nurse. "I will take his temperature again." But as
she turned for the thermometer Haines raised his
heavy lids and looked straight at them both for a
minute.
"Hervey, don't leave me!" he said faintly. "You
340 EXILE
won't leave me in the desert?" Then more slowly, "I
can't get back !"
"No, it's all right, Haines. I'm here, you know !"
Hervey repeated monotonously.
Then there was silence, while the nurse and Hervey
stood still watching for a moment in the windy heat
of noon and the shade of the sick-room. Outside the
date-palms soughed and swung together, and inside
their two hearts seemed to beat in trained alertness.
Then the nurse took up the thermometer and nodded
to Hervey.
"It's all right," she said ; "I thought something was
coming but it's all right. You had better go down
and answer the telephone."
He walked out of the room and down the echoing
stairs with hushed feet. They were holding the line
all this time, for it was urgent. The Government
engineer was wanted in Reserve.
"Those damned earth tremors again !" said Hervey.
"I told them not to lose their heads for a few rocks
tumbling down. It was bound to happen." He rang
the bell and ordered his car, going back to the sick-
room to tell the nurse that he must go to the works
and should lunch in Reserve. She could ring him
up if anything happened.
"It is all right; you must go, and there is nothing
you can do here," said the nurse with a glance at the
face on the pillows. "Dr. Bride will be out again this
afternoon. I should have some lunch before I went,
if I were you, Mr. Hervey. You look very worn."
She was a plain-spoken woman, but sensible. He
did not want to wait, but he knew the necessity of
food taken regularly and sparingly in Exile, and he
EXILE 341
sent for a light meal before the car came round. By
the time he reached Reserve it was, in consequence,
past two o'clock, and then his work absorbed him for
an hour or two. At four he was free and the staff
at the works were well in hand again, the human
units going with all the whir of machinery under
the steam-power of Hervey's will. He got into his
car to drive down to his house for tea and to look for
some memoranda he had left there, for there had been
no telephone message from his bungalow summoning
him back to Golgotha.
It had been a disheartening day, and he felt jaded
and tired both with the strain of his friend's illness
and the timid fear of responsibility amongst his work-
men. The whip-lash of free speech had driven that
unwilling team to the collar, but Hervey's mouth was
set in its grimmest lines as he entered the door of his
own house. There, however, the sunshine suddenly
met him and the strain ended, for his Arab servants,
bowing low, brought him a just-breathed message.
It was only two words that altered the day "Al
Siyyidha!" But his heart leapt and he felt as if the
burden slipped from his shoulders. She was here,
and he did not ask how or why Al Siyyidha, 'the
Lady of high rank,' for there was only one lady for
whom his servants would use the more ceremonious
term instead of the usual "Sitt," unless it were the
Governor's wife. He walked up the stairs with that
light tread of his, and was in her presence before she
was aware, for she did not turn on the instant, as
she would have done had she heard him.
Claudia was standing on the further side of the
large room that opened on to the stairs and the well-
342 EXILE
space of the centre of the house, very much where he
had stood on the night when she had come to him in
Reserve. She was, in fact, near the bookcase as he
had been, turning over the leaves of a book as if in
imitation of his occupation on that occasion and hum-
ming a song to herself happily as she read. Her atti-
tude was so natural, so much at home, that he had
the full pleasure a man may feel at seeing the woman
he loves in his own house as if her place were there.
Hervey stood still a moment and watched her. He
felt suddenly breathless with his own piercing joy
a joy as sharp as sorrow. He remembered those ex-
cursions of his into the narrower byeways of passion,
and shrank from the sordid memory. In the light
of this great thing that had come to him those mis-
spent hours seemed a slur upon it, even though he had
hardly dignified them by the name of Love. He had
called them experiments, he remembered, and excused
them on the vicious plea of idleness. As he looked at
Claudia he marvelled at the meanness of his own
tastes.
And then she turned, the book still in her hands,
and saw him.
She came up to him laughing, tossing the book on
to the divan as she passed, and put her hands up
on his shoulders with a caressing movement to which
he was beginning to look forward hungrily. "I have
come home!" she said. "No wonder you look aston-
ished ; but I would not telephone, because I knew you
were with Mr. Haines, and I did not want to bring
you out."
"How long have you been here?" he asked quietly,
EXILE 343
his arms round her waist, and his hard cheek against
her soft one.
"Oh, for the past week," she answered with a cer-
tain carelessness as if the life that lay behind her
final step in coming to him hardly mattered. "I have
come for good, Ritchie!"
"I hope so it seems to me very good !"
"I don't know " (a trace of anxiety clouded
the brightness of her face). "But there was nothing
else to do. I have nothing with me; I think I shall
have to disguise myself in a kameese and go out to
buy some clothes."
"If you make a list you will find that the butler can
get you most things that you want. I have trained
him. Have they attended to you properly?"
"Oh, beautifully. And I found everything I
wanted from the first night, spread upon my dressing-
table, even to a sponge !"
He drew her across the room to the tea-table, which
was already waiting, and sat down beside her. "Tell
me how it all happened!" he said gently.
"There is nothing to tell. I warned Edgar Ever-
ard" (it was noticeable that she no longer said "my
husband") "that if he gave another unjust judg-
ment in the Azeopardi case I should use the letter
against him have it published if necessary."
"What letter?"
"The letter he wrote to you." She flushed with a
sudden memory and hid her face against his shoulder.
"He thought it was destroyed, but I had really kept it
as a hold over him in case he persisted in misusing
his power like this. It seems to me appalling," she
added more slowly, "that our judicial system can place
344 EXILE
such power in the hands of any one man! If he abuses
it he cannot even be prosecuted by a subject; it is only
the Colonial Office which can start inquiries, or the
High Court which could arraign him, and he knows
that that is a costly and lengthy proceeding. He is not
really afraid of any official inquiry about such a little
colony as Exile so long as he can accomplish his de-
sign first and make a fortune out of the silk trade.
The one thing he was afraid of was the publication
of that letter, because of the native feeling it would
stir up against him, and the chance of violence."
"And yet they say that he will discharge Haroun
AH when the trial ends," Hervey pondered ; "and run
the risk of a demonstration."
"Because he will not believe that the Arabs are
greatly interested in the matter, or that he is not safe
in his official capacity. He depends on the Govern-
ment being behind him, and thinks that the police can
keep order. But I hope I frightened him a little. He
knows, anyhow, that the letter is still in existence, and
that I shall not hesitate to use it."
"Was he rough to you?" he asked quickly. "What
did he do when you told him?" No one but a lover
would have grasped, with quickened senses, some peril
near her in the situation, she had spoken so quietly.
"Yes, he was rough," she said deliberately, but she
turned her face away a little, as if to avoid any be-
trayal. "He worked himself into a passion and talked
wildly. That is all except that I thought it better tQ
come here."
"It was much better" he was not satisfied, and
she knew it, but she did not want to startle him even
though she had escaped bodily violence "but I shall
EXILE 345
be better pleased when I take you to Europe. Does
he know where you are?"
"Oh, no. I simply came away." She thought of
that flight down the road, the springless gharry, the
horror of pursuit, and her hurried walk on foot
through the town; but she thrust the thoughts away
from her lest the shadow of it should touch him
through their responsive minds. "It is over now. Let
us talk of something else. Let me make tea for you.
I told the servants I would make it myself. I am very
conceited over making tea; it is the one thing that I
think I do better than any one else. Every one has
one thing that they think they do to perfection, you
know. What is yours ?"
He laughed, stretching himself luxuriously in his
easy chair. 'Tacking up a parcel, I think," he said,
as she carefully measured the tea and wanned the
teapot. "Most people get the ends so untidy. I am
quite professional! I believe I was meant to be a
grocer."
"Lady Stroud once confided to me that she laid a
fire better than any housemaid, and when she was in
England she sometimes longed to do it just to show
them how. I think if I felt I was a genius in laying
fires that I should simply have to follow my bent,
whatever the servants thought!"
"I am not sure that I admit your genius over the
tea-making!" Hervey teased her. "It won't be strong
enough for me. You only put in three spoonfuls!"
"One for you, one for me, and one for the teapot.
The real art lies in pouring a little boiling water on
it first to get the goodness out of the tea and filling
346 EXILE
up afterwards. Most people simply flood the teapot
and pour off the washy surface into the cups !"
"I see your conceit is not to be shaken. You speak
like one of those circulars instructing one how to make
sparklets, or toast bread on an iron plate that never
gets hot !"
"I had to be a little academic, or I should not have
impressed you. There is your tea don't dare to say
you don't like it."
"I don't dare!" said Hervey meekly as he stirred
it. "But I think you might have put in some sugar.
Nothing gives me such a shock to my system as a
mouthful of sour tea!"
"Oh, I beg your pardon! I don't take it myself,
and so I never thought you could be so nasty." She
dropped a lump in with dainty fingers, and then like
a child put a small piece in her own mouth appre-
ciatively.
"Claudia, you will spoil your teeth !"
"Never mind I daresay I can still bite you if you
give me cause."
"Oh, darling, with the eyes serene,
And with the teeth so white,
The vow was proper to the scene
Superfluous was the bite !"
quoted Hervey lazily. "I shall buy a little muzzle
and take you out on a chain. And every one will pity
me very much. They will say, 'There goes that poor
man with the biting wife; there's a new bit of him
gone every day' ! ! !"
"Well, there's enough of you to last me for a good
many meals!" said Claudia indignantly. "You needn't
EXILE 347
grudge me a few chops!" Then as they broke into
mutual laughter "I think we must be very happy,"
she said. "We talk so much nonsense."
"I know I am happy," he said, leaning forward to
lay his hand tenderly on her dull gold hair. "My
only fear is lest you should regret it!"
"Why should I regret it?" she answered with a kind
of still brightness even in her gravity. "I do not re-
gard marriage as a sacred bond unless it has the sanc-
tion of one's own soul. People who prate of its
morality are only conventional cowards. Where I
made a blunder was in marrying too young, but for
years I made the best of a very bad bargain.'*
"I wonder that you did not get a separation !"
"It would have been more decent. But I knew very
little of the man I married, by his own desire. He
wanted a figure-head, in some sort a companion, and
I did my best to fulfil both duties. As to the rest of
his life, I never speculated about it until he abso-
lutely forced me to face it. I should not even take
the trouble to defend myself like this to any one
else " She broke off with a movement of the head
that was superb.
But being a man he was greedier for her than she
was for herself. "If I heard criticism of you I think
I should kill some one!" he said simply. "Do you
think he will get a divorce?"
"I can't say. His character has so altered to me
since he stole into his own house like a thief that night
that I am quite at a loss to say what he will do. But
even if I am never legally your wife, Richmond, I
should not regret coming to you, unless it really did
you harm; but I do not see how it could " She
348 EXILE
paused with a sudden questioning glance of her up-
raised eyes. They were reddish purple in the subdued
light, and the dense lashes made them darker still.
Hervey took her face between his hands and kissed
the curved lips with slow pressure. "You are never
to say that to me again," he said. "And never to
think it. You cannot bring me anything but good
so long as you love me. It is only that I cannot bear
to think of a rough wind blowing on you."
"I shall never feel the wind, even of adverse criti-
cism while you are with me. I feel very deeply
about marriage and the fallacy of the legal tie; that
is why I tried to warn Barbara Playfair. It is not a
thing to part with lightly, because it is a kind of com-
pact entered into between men and women. But it
seems to me that it is more one's commercial honour
that is involved than any religious sentiment. If
either party does not fulfil their obligations the com-
pact ought to be null and void. And apart from that,
I think that a great love justifies the breaking of a
loveless tie."
"That's the sweetest heresy I ever heard !" said
Hervey fondly.
"Yes, but don't misunderstand me; had I been
normally married, and had then found that my feeling
for you was overwhelming a thing out of all propor-
tion to marriage or other ties 1 should have gone to
my husband honestly and told him that I was going
away, even if you had not loved me in return. I
should not have gone to you in that case ; but I would
sooner earn my living by any labour than live as one
man's wife with my whole body and soul belonging to
another. As it was, of course, I was merely living
EXILE 349
under Edgar Everard's roof in the position of a house-
keeper."
"Supposing there had been children?"
"It would have made no difference, provided they
were another man's. Under no circumstances could I
abandon a child of yours it would be part of our
very love for each other. But I should only have the
animal instinct of maternity for the children I bore
to another man, and it would not hold me long."
Her words started the side issue in Hervey's mind.
"Pray God we do have children !" he said. "It would
be a great joy to me. I believe I'm really rather do-
mestic, Claudia."
Her face changed from its earnestness to the former
laughter. "I will let you order the dinners if you
like," she said, "and scold the servants. I think the
mere sight of you with a duster in your hand would
awe the pertest housemaid to do her duty. You are
so very impressive !"
She had purposely refrained from asking him after
Rodney Haines, seeing the lines in his face from
watching and nursing; but before he left he told her
of those discouraging vigils.
"Bride thinks he won't pull through," he said
bluntly. "I do. Poor devil! I expect he'll curse me
for a bit too, if I bring him back to life."
"You ought to be getting back to him," said
Claudia, with perfect understanding. "Do you know
that it is nearly seven o'clock? It seems a minute
since you came, doesn't it?"
"I wish I could have stayed "
"We shall have all our lives for you to stay!" she
said in a low voice, her head resting against his
350 EXILE
breast as they stood at the head of the stairs. "I
don't think we should either of us be really happy if
you didn't go back now. You will come to-morrow ?"
"About the same time. I have had to give orders
to close the Cutting, but I hope it will be open again
in a day or so, and it's not much further from Gol-
gotha to drive the old road. Claudia, I lay no restric-
tion on you whatever, but I would rather think that
you were not going out. Can you live like an Arab
lady for me and think that I am your lord and have
shut you off from the world?"
"I will promise not to go out, unless it were for
some extraordinary cause," she said readily. "I will
make a list of purchases for your servants, as you sug-
gest. I can get all the air I want on the roof."
"Good-night then, my darling!"
She stood at the head of the stairs to watch him
out of her sight a tall white figure with a face most
beautiful, and tender with love. At the foot of the
stairs he turned again to look at her, and it seemed
to him that he stood in a gulf of darkness while her
figure was set far above him in light, for the lamps
had been lit in the room above but not in the lower
portion of the house. Long after his car was clear
of Reserve and its parti-coloured streets he still saw
Claudia standing, at the back of his brain, with the
rain of light upon her.
CHAPTER XXI
"He sitteth on a throne, and hideously
Playeth at judgment! . . .
. . . Sceptred, thron'd, and crown'd,
The foul judging the foul, and sitting grim
Laughs.
With a voice of most exceeding peace
The Lord said 'Look no more !' "
ROBERT BUCHANAN.
MR. YARROW was orderly officer on the great
day of the murder trial, to his very great dis-
gust, for he would have liked to go into the court-
house and hear the end of it, however much it might
inflame him when the Chief Justice mishandled the
evidence. The proceedings had lasted over a week,
and the assessors, isolated during that period, had
been bewildered and badgered by the Chief Justice
when out of court until they were almost uncertain
themselves as to the meaning of premeditation. Ever-
ard had acted throughout more as a counsel for the
defence than the judge, and all the civil population
had seethed with comment. Incident is so sparse in
Exile that even the judicial scandals of the colony
were a welcome diversion. At home, or even in a
larger community, Yarrow would never have dreamed
of spending an hour in a hot and confined space
crowded with Arabs, however emphatic his opinions
on the judgments might be. They would always be
352 EXILE
emphatic because he was young and of a sanguine
temperament. But he would have contented himself
with round denunciation of Everard and his methods
and gone off to more natural diversions.
As it was, he felt it an injury when one man after
another got a chance to go into Reserve on the last
day of the trial and "see if there were a chance of a
good old row." He would have liked a fight in
mufti, and had he happened to be on the spot and
there were an uproar, and "I was not in uniform, sir!
I had to look out for myself when the beggars got
loose!" who could blame him? He felt, like Her-
vey, that he wanted to use his strength. Five-and-
twenty bottled up in stations like Exile is apt to find
an outlet on such occasions as St. Patrick's Day and
to wear newly-healed scars on its forehead.
Mr. Yarrow languished at his duty, while his
brother officers got leave and left the mess a worse
desert than the one beyond the Rocks. The garrison
at Exile was a small one, the natural defences being
almost impregnable ; besides the Marine Artillery and
the Marine Light Infantry there was only a detach-
ment of the Camel Corps. Colonel Darner was still
laid up with his cocktail fever, and the only other offi-
cer left in the Marine lines besides Mr. Yarrow was
the senior captain, who was suffering from a genuine
attack of dysentery, and was more concerned with the
advisability of going into hospital than of providing
company for his subaltern. He was not a cheerful
companion, and he did not even want to discuss the
last ponies that the Remount Department had fur-
nished for the Mounted Infantry.
By two o'clock Mr. Yarrow was reduced to wishing
EXILE 353
for an earthquake to break the hot monotony of the
long bungalow and the sandy drilling ground, for his
blood was quick in his veins; at a quarter-past he al-
most prayed for something to happen; and at half-
past it came a quick telephone message from the
police barracks at Reserve that they wanted help, and
following hard upon it an order from the Governor
to send some of the Marines to guard the court-house.
There was a disturbance in the bazaars, and a crowd
was rushing into the road leading to the Cutting to
mob the Chief Justice. No more details were forth-
coming, but Yarrow's heart leapt. Everard must have
discharged Haroun Ali, whatever verdict the jury
had found, and the populace, knowing him guilty, was
vowing vengeance on the Chief Justice.
"Serve him right!" muttered Yarrow, as he gave
the order for the men to fall in. "And we've got
to get the cur out of the mess !"
Nevertheless it was action, and he welcomed it,
even in the midday heat of Exile. The men swung
down the road to the Cutting, raising a cloud of dust,
and seeming a curious match for the Rocks in their
khaki. At this hour the shadowless sides of the vol-
canic range were much of the same toneless brown,
and the moving mass of men might have been a de-
tached portion endowed with motion.
At the Cutting came a sudden check. The passage
had been closed to the public within the last hour, a
notice to this effect having been posted early in the
morning, of which Yarrow had not heard. There was
a guard at the gates, but the Cutting was not already
blocked with men at work, and if Lieutenant Yarrow
exerted his authority it was possible that he and his
354 EXILE
men might be allowed to go through under the cir-
cumstances. For a minute the young officer hesitated ;
his own orders had been to go to Reserve, but he had
not been told anything about the Cutting being closed,
or that he was to take the shortest route at all costs.
It lay at the back of his mind that they were going
to the rescue of that brute Everard. Serve him right
if the crowd did handle him roughly! But he would
look after his own skin trust him ! And they would
arrive in plenty of time.
He had halted his men where the Cutting lay on
his right and the old road branched to the left. "We
shall have to go round," he said to the sergeant, and
then a brief order: "Company! 'shun 'left incline
quick march!" and the column went swinging round
the base of the Rocks. It was twenty minutes' extra,
that was all twenty minutes' more marching on the
blistering road for the hot Marines twenty minutes
too late. But Mr. Yarrow's action was never called
in question, nor was he blamed, since no one knew
of that momentary wavering of the guard at the Cut-
ting gates, and that he himself never quite faced the
thought at the back of his mind. The Cutting was
unfortunately closed for repairs, and the Marines had
had to go the longer way round. The thing was a
simple statement and unquestioned.
As the men marched into Reserve there was a stir
in the air. It was not movement so much as the sense
of movement a something breaking the ordinary
drone of midday life and traffic. Instinctively the col-
umn quickened the pace, before the order passed the
officer's lips. They were upon the straggling boundary
of the city, a good half-mile yet from the centre of
EXILE 355
the town or from the court-house. But as they swung
along the broad, hot road outside the Arab streets the
vibration in the air increased until it was an absolute
sound, a murmur of multitudes moving. The easy
swip-swop of the soldiers' feet changed from the back
and forwards creaking of boots into the impatience of
the feet inside them. They would have run had there
been the least encouragement, so contagious is excite-
ment, though it was only the desire to be in for the
scrum to see the finish to find out -what was hap-
pening.
"Get on there, men. Quick march !" The body be-
gan to move as one unit^ straight on to the goal.
The multitudinous hum of life that drew them on
had not manifested itself until just after two o'clock
when the court rose. It had been a protracted trial,
and when the jury retired to consider their verdict
the judge maintained that as premeditation had not
been proved the prisoner could not be found guilty
of murder. Now the code of Exile says that "Homi-
cide committed wilfully is manslaughter. Manslaugh-
ter committed with premeditation or by lying in wait
is murder," and goes on to explain in what premedita-
tion consists in phrases whose legal indirectness is
enough to confuse a Solomon. There were as many
opinions in Exile about premeditation as there are in
religious circles about predestination, and of this Ever-
ard had been clever enough to take advantage. Seven
out of the eight assessors disagreed with him, the
eighth being undecided, but the verdict was "Guilty
of Murder."
Then the Chief Justice began to speak. His gift
of words had never been more remarkable, and had
356 EXILE
the evidence been weaker he might almost have jus-
tified his decision to discharge the prisoner. Even as
it was, he seized on the one weak spot, the question
of premeditation, and allowed the accused the benefit
of the doubt with an eloquence that rolled in swelling
phrases.
Everard's speech was a really brilliant performance,
whatever its flagrant injustice, and the white popula-
tion present not a few acknowledged this later on.
Only it failed to touch the native element at all. The
grave, inscrutable Arab faces remained blank, simply
listening and waiting for sentence of death. When the
accused was discharged, despite the verdict of the
jury, there was a little hush in court, a pause as if
those listening were still waiting for more and did not
realise what had happened, though the police were
removing Haroun AH from the dock. But it was not
until the judge rose to leave the court that the first
warning murmur rose, and the crowd surged up like
an angry sea and threatened to overwhelm the police
already in the building. Everard had given judg-
ment almost with a smile, he was so full of contempt
for the public opinion that futilely opposed his own
cleverness, and he had so strong a belief in his own
power; but at the growing murmur he hesitated for
the first time, turned back to look even as he was
going out of court, and whitened. He had intended to
leave the court-house at once. His car was waiting
outside, for he had another work on hand, the dis-
covery of his wife's whereabouts. He was certain
that she had not reached Health, even if she had at-
tempted to escape him thither, and someone must have
given her a sanctuary. During the days of the trial
EXILE 357
he had been hampered by his work, and had had little
time to track her after her escape from his house,
since he could not make it a public matter. But he had
made inquiries, while maintaining to the world at
large that she had gone away for a change, and was
convinced that she was still in Reserve or its neigh-
bourhood. While she held possession of the letter he
knew neither rest nor ease, and he meant to track her
down and deal with her as passion and revenge ad-
vised. But that warning mutter made him pause;
he could not leave the court-house until assured that
the police had cleared the road for him. The natives
who had been in court they should never have been
admitted ! rmight gather and wait for him outside.
His fear was not very keen-edged as yet, but it suf-
ficed to make him linger fatally until the police de-
clared the road safe.
Meanwhile the court had been cleared, and the
Arabs had been driven out of the court-house. They
surged over the road and into the bazaars, where they
met the bulk of the population waiting for news. The
judgment and acquittal of Haroun Ali spread like
wildfire, and a growing, muttering crowd began to
throng in the narrow streets, moving always towards
the court-house, where the Chief Justice still waited.
By the time a small body of police had arrived on the
scene the roadway was packed, and the outer purlieus
of the city were still emptying themselves into an area
the centre of which was the spot where Edgar Ever-
ard was caught like a rat in a trap. The police strug-
gled to hold back the crowd, to keep them at least
peaceable and orderly ; but the excited murmur had
grown to a full-throated yell for revenge, the demand
358 EXILE
which in a Western nation would have been for lynch
law. Amongst the Arabs it threatened not only the
single individual, but the whole structure of govern-
ment, for it happened to be near the festival of the
"Id Ramyan," and at such times a kind of religious
mania surges over all Arab Exile and acts more dan-
gerously than cocaine. It was when the police found
themselves inadequate with secret compliance, for
they also were Arabs that the telephone reported to
Government House and Government House called up
the Marines.
It had been a hot morning, and Claudia Everard
had little inducement to go up on the roof in search
of air, which circulated better in the house. Never-
theless at one o'clock some restlessness or sense of
danger took her up there to look down through the
narrow loopholes of her refuge. There were more
people in the streets, it seemed to her, than was usual
at this hour. They stood about in groups, talking to
each other, and did not pass to and fro about their
business. .She remembered that it was the last day of
Haroun Ali's trial, and wondered if indeed that could
be the cause. They were waiting for news waiting
for the verdict and judgment. There would be plenty
of talk down there soon. Or was it something to do
with the "Id," some preliminary gathering? Her
knowledge of Arab customs kept the festival more in
her mind than in most Europeans' in Exile.
Her servants Hervey's faithful staff summoned
her to lunch; but after her food she went back to the
roof again about two o'clock, for now she was begin-
ning to be aware that there was a hum in the air.
Away over the roofs of the city she could see the big
EXILE 359
white buildings of the court-house and the gaol, but
she could not see the road, and so she missed the pour-
ing forth of the angry crowd after it became known
that the murderer was acquitted. The first she knew
of a rising was the steady stream of people that be-
gan to flow through the streets, like coloured ants be-
neath her, winding now here, now there, but always
in the same direction, outwards from the bazaars.
Here a building cut them off from her, there a nar-
row street gave her a glimpse of them again. She
ran from side to side of the roof, trying to see more
and more, and becoming aware of that hoarse sound
of voices that was swelling up and bursting out of
the streets and into the road which passed the court-
house. One did not know that there were so many
people in the city! They came up and up, as if the
streets automatically opened doors to let them pass;
they pressed closer and closer together until they were
a living mass and a relentless tide. Claudia gazed at
the dark stream fascinated. It would be awful to be
down there in the heart of that surging humanity.
The sound of voices began to rise on the air,
mingling with the sound of movement. The curious
snarl of the Arabic words, rung from one to another,
rose with a discordant menace and struck at Claudia's
heart. She no longer fancied that it was the "Id"
that caused it, though no doubt the religious excite-
ment of the festival was further inflaming the people,
who were light-headed from the long fast, she knew
in an instant what this outpouring of the populace
meant, and where they were going. And with the
next breath she had a picture of her husband's face,
livid with fear, tossed hither and thither in the crowd.
360 EXILE
They would be at the court-house by this time wait-
ing for him, and the police would be incapable of
holding them back without the military. An over-
whelming rush of pity, as for some stricken creature,
welled up in her heart and flooded out all the horror
and repulsion with which Edgar Everard had filled
her. From the measureless height and breadth of her
happy love she pitied him, as one safe in Paradise
might pity an outcast on the earth, still groping in
the darkness of garbage and filth. Poor, poor man!
trapped in his own evil-doing, threatened with the
monster of lynch law, which was the only thing that
he feared. His very life appeared so poor and puny
to Claudia that she wondered how he could take any
enjoyment in it, full as it was of low passions and base
desires and degraded aims. And yet he clung to it,
and dreaded the very name of personal violence that
menaced his physical existence. Everard had never
feared him who could kill the soul, but he did very
much fear him who could kill the body, for his body
circumscribed the world for him.
The wild crying in the streets rose to a sound of
hoarse frenzy even as it passed further off. It was
no more the voice of a people subjected to law and
order, but the wild hordes of the desert, setting out
to raid and kill. Would the military never come?
They must have been called out by this time, unless
the police were absolutely overpowered and unable
even to send for help.
Claudia ran downstairs from the roof, with her
heart ticking somewhere in her throat and an urgent
sense of going to the rescue. She seized the heavy
black kameese which she had found in her bedroom
EXILE 361
to disguise her if she went out; but her feet seemed
to outrun her, and she was half-way to the entrance
of the house before she got it over her head. There
was no one in the lower part of the house that she
could see the servants had crowded on to some roof
of their own quarters to watch the rising, or had gone
to the door in the side street. There was no single
soul in sight, for most of the women and children
were safe within doors, and those of the lowest class
who had ventured with the men were far ahead. She
ran on and on, taking breathless turnings ; but she did
not come up with the multitude until the outmost
streets of the city, and there she was caught
in with the stragglers and pressed forward and on-
ward with relentless force, a tall black shrouded fig-
ure holding her kameese safely over her head and face
and unrecognisable. She was only one more Arab
woman in the heart of the motley crowd, carried along
by its impetus, and feeling choked by the strange scent
and sight of it.
In a minute, as it seemed to her, the whole mass in
which she was wedged was flung out of the last nar-
row alley into the broader road running to the Cut-
ting. All round her were excited cries, deafening
her 'all about her that stifling scent of dried woods
and spices, and in front and behind the awakened
beautiful faces of the men, the shrouded heads of the
women. It struck her that she had never seen this
people really alive before. The Oriental reserve was
gone from them as if they had lifted a veil, and the
dark, pale features worked with excitement, the large
eyes burnt, the parted lips showed the eager teeth.
They looked as if they would tear and torture and slay
362 EXILE
without mercy. And through it all she seemed to see
her husband's face of livid fear.
There was some organisation even yet in the crowd,
and some leadership, for she perceived a purpose in
this steady forward movement. The people massed
themselves up and down the road, a hundred yards
on this side of the court-house, a hundred yards on
that, surging up behind it to cut off a way of escape,
forming a solid wall in front. If the soldiers came
now they must charge upon a packed mass of hu-
manity, for there was no parting it. Away in front,
in the little open space before the dourt-house doors,
the police were struggling, borne back and back by the
relentless people, who were using them as a lever to
force the very doors. And suddenly out of the crowd
of all other faces Claudia saw Said's face, beautiful
exceedingly, with the beauty of battle and wrath and
wild justice. He was one of the leaders, and was
directing the assault. She felt the crowd surge for-
ward, and in her mind was the instinct to reach him
and appeal to him a half -framed thought that was
not definite purpose.
She could not see the defeat of the police or the
doors of that mock court of justice broken in, but
that the crowd had found a victim on which to vent
their hate she knew from the din that arose in front.
She put her hands up to her ears in horror to shut
out a shriek she might recognise ; but it was not Ever-
ard, it was Haroun Ali the murderer, and his acquit-
tal availed him little. Claudia was carried forward in
the wake of that assassination and had almost reached
Said; she had gathered her voice to cry to him when
for a minute the ranks in front of her loosened for
EXILE 363
a forward rush and she saw the thing she had been
seeing in her mind the livid face of her husband
with his head bent down as he ran hither and thither
trying to escape. The sight was too horrible it was
no longer a man, it was terror incarnate. The crowd's
very yell changed to a mockery of laughter as it chased
and worried him.
Claudia had reached the front ranks of the people.
Whether her intense desire had brought her there or
some inhuman strength she did not know, but in the
same moment that she saw Everard she saw the long
emaciated figure of Stanley Murgatroyd fighting des-
perately. She reached him first, and, indifferent that
she betrayed herself, cried out to him in English,
"We must save him; Stanley, we must save him!"
and turning in the path of the oncoming mob for a
moment she stood at bay between Everard and the
death he gibbered at. Then the crowd closed over her,
as over an unconsidered atom. It trampled and struck
with unheeding feet in its desire to get at that run-
ning figure. He was down also worse, he was in
their hands, his shrieking voice drowned in the deep
volume of their cry for real justice at last.
Stanley Murgatroyd had turned at the sound of the
voice that reached him, and, knowing it death, had
let the crowd drive him back, tripping and almost fall-
ing over the body of the woman he sought His long
arms closed round her and he crouched above her,
shielding what life might remain to her with his own.
So the first rush went past; but Claudia's cry had
reached other ears besides Murgatroyd's, and as he
raised his bruised and bleeding head he looked up into
the fierce beautiful face of the young Arab whom he
364 EXILE
had seen in her house. He uttered a cry of mingled
suspicion and jealousy, and flung out his arm blindly
to thrust Said from her, stretching his gaunt frame
between them. The crowd had loosened and was
rushing up the road on its hideous vengeance, for be-
hind it came the solid tramp of the Marines, and it
would not be baulked of its prey. There was the
warning of a volley blank ammunition as yet and
Said swooped like a hawk to gather Claudia's help-
less body from the ground ; but the Crown Prosecutor
was in his way. With his left hand he drew the long
knife from his belt and thrust it under Murgatroyd's
arm . . . then as the body dropped sideways he lifted
Claudia and dragged her out of the way of the sol-
diers.
"Ya Sitt lives," he said, though a lesser instinct
would have seen no movement in that crushed body.
"A dog's life has gone for hers God is great!"
The Marines fixed bayonets and charged. . . .
THE END.
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gent proletarian who treats himself to these adventures."
Chicago Evening Post.
"Every one of the sketches is clever, humorous, but never
unkind. An analytical gift of character reading is one of the
salient attributes of Mr. Leacock's style, and his present volume
is one that will be seized with avidity and read with delight. "
Bu/alo Express.
"A master of keen, pointed satire, a lover of a good laugh, a
writer capable of dexterously holding up to the light the foibles,
weaknesses, craftiness and guile of his fellow man and woman,
is this Stephen Leacock, and never before has he exemplified all
this so patently, and withal so artfully, as in the present volume. "
Cleveland Town Topics.
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EVERY number of the International Studio contains
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