Trade Wind (30 page)

“
Bon!
Then Balu Ram shall have the chests brought here this very night. You permit, Olivia?”

“Of course, Thérèse dear. It will be a privilege.
Gold!
…Oh dear, I do trust it will be safe? Supposing anyone…”

Cressy said uneasily: “It will not be used to buy anything—anything
dangerous
will it? I mean—guns, or bullets or anything dreadful like that?”

“Dear Cressy,” said Thérèse affectionately, “you are so tender-hearted. But you need have no fear. No fear at all.”

“Cressy is quite right,” interrupted Hero firmly. “We must first be certain of that. I for one could not countenance anything in the nature of violence, and I am sure we are all in agreement over that.”

“Indeed, yes. You may rest assured there will be no violence. The Seyyid Bargash has too great an attachment to his people to permit such a tiling, while as for the Sultan—
bah
! The Sultan is of a timidity quite remarkable. No, no, dear Mademoiselle, what is planned is a revolution without blood. A
coup d’etat
. That is why so much money is needed, because it is as I have told you: there are here, as everywhere, many people who do not range themselves either on one side or the other, but who may be bought.”

“You mean bribed,” said Hero with a distinct trace of disapproval.

Madame Tissot shrugged her plump shoulders. “It is the same thing,
n’est-ce pas
? They are poor people and they must eat. Their families must live, and therefore they fear to speak against the tyranny of the Sultan. But if there is the promise of money they will side openly with Seyyid Bargash, whom already they love. And once they have added themselves to those other loyal ones a
coup d’etat
arranges itself with no trouble and no blows, for what can the Sultan do if the whole city and every man of all the villages is in support of his brother Bargash? He can only retire peacefully to this new palace of Dar-es-Salaam that he builds for himself on the mainland, while his brother ascends the throne to the acclamation of all, and begins the long and hard task of abolishing the injustices and poverty and serfdom that have afflicted his people for so long.”

Olivia Credwell looked as though she was about to applaud again, but Hero’s expression was still doubtful, and Madame Tissot laughed and shook a beringed finger at her:

“Is it that you do not think it can be accomplished? Or is it that knowing nothing as yet of the East you think it is not right to buy supporters with money? Well, that is your affair. But for myself, I think it better to buy men than to kill them. We know that the Sultan’s party have obtained many muskets, and if the Seyyid Bargash’s party were to do likewise there would be only one end to this affair; fighting and bloodshed and many deaths. That, you will agree, we cannot permit, and it is to save the good citizens from such a fate that this treasure has been sent from Muscat. To purchase the support of those who—how do you say it?—‘seat themselves upon the fence.’ You understand?”

“Yes, of course,” agreed Hero; realizing with relief that even such a venal scoundrel as Emory Frost would not contemplate selling arms to the enemies of his most influential protector. But it was disquieting to learn that the Sultan’s faction were arming themselves, and the sooner the money from Muscat was in safe hands the better. There was obviously not a moment to lose.

“Then if we are all of one mind,” said Thérèse Tissot, “it only remains to devise some way by which we may convey them safely into the hands of Seyyid Bargash: which will not be easy, since the Sultan’s spies watch the houses of all who support Bargash. They have even stopped and searched vegetable sellers and water carriers and slaves carrying washing, and it is certain that they will never permit chests full of treasure to pass in without question.”

“No, I guess not,” said Hero, pondering the matter. “But we four should be able to take it into Beit-el-Tani—though not in chests of course. I don’t suppose a gold bar can be very large, and we could wear our capes. No one would dare search us; or question our paying calls on the Princesses either. We could carry any number of coins in our reticules, and it should be possible to conceal the larger pieces of plate under our hoops.”

It seemed a workable solution, but Madame Tissot regretfully vetoed it. The chests, she explained, were secured against theft by locks upon which the Seyyid Thuwani had placed his personal seal, and if they had any hand in breaking those seals, and the treasure should later prove to be less than was anticipated, it would immediately be said that the white women had helped themselves to part of it and that it was now plain why they had troubled to interest themselves in the matter. This was a risk they could not take, since like Caesar’s wife they must be above suspicion.

Hero cordially agreed, and substituted the suggestion that both Madame Tissot’s and Mrs Platt’s carriages should be pressed into service to transport the chests one by one, or if possible two at a time, to Beit-el-Tani, from where the Seyyida Cholé could be trusted to see that they came to her brother’s hands. Olivia and Thérèse would have to go with them to lend colour to the fiction of a social call, and some arrangement would have to be made whereby they could drive into the courtyard at the back of the palace instead of going round to the front door. There
was
such a courtyard, added Hero, because she had seen it from one of the windows as they were being taken up to see the Seyyidas that morning, and though it was probably a private entrance and not normally used by visitors, the gate leading into it seemed amply wide enough to admit a carriage, and perhaps some story could be concocted to explain their making use of it:

“You could say, for instance, that you did not like being gaped at by crowds; which is a thing that all the local people are sure to understand. Do you think that could be arranged?”

Thérèse Tissot nodded her head and said generously: “I make you my compliments. Mademoiselle. Certainly it shall be arranged. I myself will see the Seyyida Cholé and she shall give the order. And tonight when it is dark and all are asleep, the gold shall be brought here, yes?”

“Oh, yes indeed!” agreed Olivia, enthralled. “And now all that we need is a good excuse for paying several visits to Beit-el-Tani during the next few days, before Hubert and Jane return.”

“Lessons!” said Thérèse with a little crow of laughter. “We learn Court Persian. The Seyyidas have graciously offered to teach us, and so each morning we go to school.”

“That will do excellently,” approved Hero. “Besides, it will give you the opportunity to confine your calls to the hottest part of the day, and there is something so very
unsuspicious
about the mid-morning. Quite different from the late evening or the night I suppose the Beit-el-Tani servants are to be trusted?”

“If they could not be, the Seyyidas and their brother, and all who plot for them, would long ago have been betrayed. Of that you may be sure.”

“And your own?”

“They have been bribed,” said Thérèse with a twinkle. “As we shall bribe Olivia’s. It is the best way with these people. If one pays them well they will keep a shut mouth.”

“Then that’s all right. Now, are there any other points that we have not yet covered?”

The meeting resolved itself into an animated discussion of minor problems, and any passers-by hearing the babble of feminine voices that proceeded from the drawing-room of the Platts’ house might have been forgiven for supposing that nothing more innocuous than a ladies’ tea-party was in progress. But the results of that morning’s work were to prove far-reaching and anything but innocuous.

The first ripple was felt by Hero and Cressida, who on returning to the Consulate met with a reception that bid fair to rival, in the matter of temperature, the heat of the sun-baked streets outside. The Consul had been waiting for them for at least two hours, during which time his temper had risen to boiling point, and it now erupted in an impressive manner to castigate not only his daughter’s too frequent visits to Beit-el-Tani and her friendship with Olivia Credwell and Thérèse Tissot, but the English as a whole, the entire French nation, and every member of the Arab and African races.

Cressy had speedily been reduced to tears, but Hero had remained admirably calm, and waiting until her irate uncle had run out of breath, said placatingly:

“Dear Uncle, I do beg you to forgive me if I am being dense, but won’t you
please
tell me what all this is about? I am quite bewildered. And pray stop teasing poor Cressy. All we have done is to pay a short call on some charming Arab ladies, and a longer one on Mrs Credwell, who was kind enough to offer us refreshments. Speaking for myself, I found it all most interesting and have seldom spent a more enjoyable morning, and if we have kept you and Aunt Abby waiting for luncheon, I am truly sorry. But it’s been so long since I have been able to enjoy a little feminine gossip that I guess I lost all count of time. You know what we girls are like, Uncle Nat. Once we get to talking…”

She paused artistically, thereby avoiding, in time-honoured feminine fashion, the lie direct, and Mr Hollis not only capitulated but offered a handsome apology to his weeping daughter.

“And you
will
let us continue to visit these charming little Princesses, won’t you?” coaxed Hero, ruthlessly following up her advantage: “You have no idea how interesting it is to make the acquaintance of women whose lives are so very different from our own, and I am sure it can do nothing but good for them to see that
all
women are not mere chattels. As for Madame Tissot and Mrs Credwell, I just know they’ll be deeply hurt if Cressy and I decline all further invitations from them, but if you really wish it, of course we shall do so. Won’t we, Cressy?”

“No, no,” protested the Consul, hastily retreating from the whole position. “It’s just that I had thought maybe…Well, I guess I may have got it all wrong. Now, now Cressy, stop sniffling. I’ve said I’m sorry I bawled you out. I didn’t understand the situation, that’s all. I thought—well, never mind. We’ll say no more about it.”

The incident, as far as Uncle Nat was concerned, was closed. And he was mercifully unaware that at his niece’s suggestion Mrs Credwell, taking unfair advantage of her brother’s absence, received that night under cover of darkness and conditions of enthralling secrecy, ten locked boxes, borne to the house on
homali
carts and stowed away in the room provided for her travelling trunks. Or that earlier that day Thérèse Tissot had paid another call at Beit-el-Tani.

The Seyyida Cholé had been unusually gracious and had warmly commended Hero’s scheme. Nothing, said Cholé, could be simpler, for Miss Hollis had been correct in asserting that the public arrival of unveiled women to pay calls at Beit-el-Tani might be considered shocking. It had shocked many, and in future a more decorous arrangement should prevail. She would expect Madame Tissot and Mrs Credwell for a lesson in Court Persian each morning, and it was exceedingly fortunate that there should be a route to the back door of the palace that was capable of taking a carriage. Doubtless the All Wise had arranged that it should be so, since the vast majority of the city streets were far too narrow and tortuous to permit the passage of such clumsy vehicles.

Madame Tissot had been dismissed with suitable compliments, and when she had gone Cholé laid aside the embroidered half-mask that she had worn during the interview, and calling for water, washed her hands. After which she ordered all the windows to be opened to their widest extent, and sent down a message to the aged retainer whose duty it was to provide a guard on her gate.

It was a message that presently filtered through the bazaars and streets and alleyways of the city, and would have infuriated the Western Consulates and every member of the European community had it come to their ears. For it said, in effect, that since courtesy and good manners prevented the ladies of Beit-el-Tani from resisting the intrusions of certain foreign women who shamelessly persisted in calling almost daily at the palace, the foreigners would in future be received only at the slaves’ entrance. Moreover, they would enter under cover of the servants’ porch, which was to be strictly screened in protest against the immodesty of their behaviour and attire, and they had been requested to make their visits in a covered conveyance. Should they at any time attempt to enter by the front gateway, or in an open carriage, they were to be refused admittance and turned away.

Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately?—Uncle Nat remained in ignorance of all this. And nothing more would have been said on the subject of the Seyyidas had not Clayton, returning from a day’s shooting with his friend Mr Lynch, surprised them all by being even more annoyed than his stepfather when he learned how Cressy and Hero had spent the morning; and saying as much in terms that rivalled the Consul’s earlier words on the same subject. He had ended by strongly advising Hero to have nothing further to do with Madame Tissot or Beit-el-Tani, and when she had demanded to know why in a voice that was itself a danger signal, he had disarmed her by saying that it must always be the concern of any man in love to protect the object of his affections from anything that might cause her the smallest degree of unhappiness.

It had not really answered her question; but Hero had not noticed that And since she was not at all anxious to discuss the subject, she had accepted it with a charming smile and changed the conversation: which had not satisfied Clayton, who for reasons of his own would have preferred to keep Hero and Madame Tissot apart.

He regretted not warning her against Thérèse before, but it was too late for that now. And though he had every intention of marrying Hero, they were not yet betrothed, and he knew that any attempt to press his authority at this stage would only lead to further quarrels and a worsening of their relationship. There was nothing to do but hope for the best, and that evening he had taken her for a stroll in the garden, and avoiding any controversial subjects, had advanced himself in her good graces by being pleasant and attentive and refraining from any attempt at love-making—though had she been almost any other woman he would not have hesitated, for in the soft purple twilight, with the breeze ruffling her short chestnut curls into an aureole about her head, she was looking more sweetly feminine than he had thought possible. But Clayton was no fool where women were concerned, and he was well aware that her mind was on other matters and that the moment was not propitious for a display of lover-like ardour.