The Lamp in the Desert

  PART III

  CHAPTER I

  BLUEBEARD'S CHAMBER

  Bhulwana in early spring! Bhulwana of the singing birds and dartingsquirrels! Bhulwana of the pines!

  Stella stood in the green compound of the bungalow known as The GrandStand, gazing down upon the green racecourse with eyes that dreamed.

  The evening was drawing near. They had arrived but a few minutes beforein Major Ralston's car, and the journey had taken the whole day. Hermind went back to that early hour almost in the dawning when she andEverard Monck had knelt together before the altar of the little EnglishChurch at Kurrumpore and been pronounced man and wife. Mrs. Ralston andTommy alone had attended the wedding. The hour had been kept a strictsecret from all besides. And they had gone straight forth into the earlysunlight of the new day and sped away into the morning, rejoicing. Ablue jay had laughed after them at starting, and a blue jay was laughingnow in the budding acacia by the gate. There seemed a mocking note inits laughter, but it held gaiety as well. Listening to it, she forgotall the weary miles of desert through which they had travelled. Theworld was fair, very fair, here at Bhulwana. And they were alone.

  There fell a step on the grass behind her; she thrilled and turned. Hecame and put his arm around her.

  "Do you think you can stand seven days of it?" he said.

  She leaned her head against him. "I want to catch every moment of themand hold it fast. How shall we make the time pass slowly?"

  He smiled at the question. "Do you know, I was afraid this placewouldn't appeal to you?"

  Her hand sought and closed upon his. "Ah, why not?" she said.

  He did not answer her. Only, with his face bent down to hers, he said,"The past is past then?"

  "For ever," she made swift reply. "But I have always lovedBhulwana--even in my sad times. Ah, listen! That is a _koil_!"

  They listened to the bird's flutelike piping, standing closely linked inthe shadow of a little group of pines. In the bungalow behind them Peterthe Great was decking the table for their wedding-feast. The scent ofwhite roses was in the air, languorous, exquisite.

  The blue jay laughed again in the acacia by the gate, laughed and flewaway. "Good riddance!" said Monck.

  "Don't you like him?" said Stella.

  "I'm not particularly keen on being jeered at," he answered.

  She laughed at him in her turn. "I never thought you cared a single_anna_ what any one thought of you."

  He smiled. "Perhaps I have got more sensitive since I knew you."

  She lifted her lips to his with a sudden movement. "I am like that too,Everard. I care--terribly now."

  He kissed her, and his kiss was passionate. "No one shall ever thinkanything but good of you, my Stella," he said.

  She clung to him. "Ah, but the outside world doesn't matter," she said."It is only we ourselves, and our secret, innermost hearts that count.Everard, let us be more than true to each other! Let us be quite, quiteopen--always!"

  He held her fast, but he made no answer to her appeal.

  Her eyes sought his. "That is possible, isn't it?" she pleaded. "Myheart is open to you. There is not a single corner of it that you maynot enter."

  His arms clasped her closer. "I know," he said. "I know. But you mustn'tbe hurt or sorry if I cannot say the same. My life is a more complexaffair than yours, remember."

  "Ah! That is India!" she said. "But let me share that part too! Let mebe a partner in all! I can be as secret as the wiliest Oriental of themall. I would so love to be trusted. It would make me so proud!"

  He kissed her again. "You might be very much the reverse sometimes," hesaid, "if you knew some of the secrets I had to keep. India is India,and she can be very lurid upon occasion. There is only one way oftreating her then; but I am not going to let you into any unpleasantsecrets. That is Bluebeard's Chamber, and you have got to stay outside."

  She made a small but vehement gesture in his arms. "I hate India!" shesaid. "She dominates you like--like--"

  "Like what?" he said.

  She hid her face from him. "Like a horrible mistress," she whispered.

  "Stella!" he said.

  She throbbed in his hold. "I had to say it. Are you angry with me?"

  "No," he said.

  "But you don't like me for it all the same." Her voice came muffled fromhis shoulder. "You don't realize--very likely you never will--how nearthe truth it is."

  He was silent, but in the silence his hold tightened upon her till itwas almost a grip.

  She turned her face up again at last. "I told you it was madness tomarry me," she said tremulously. "I told you you would repent."

  He looked at her with a strange smile. "And I told you it was--Kismet,"he said. "You did it because it was written that you should. For betterfor worse--" his voice vibrated--"you and I are bound by the same Fate.It was inevitable, and there can be no repentance, just as there can beno turning back. But you needn't hate India on that account. I have toldyou that I will give her up for your sake, and that stands. But I willnot give you up for India--or for any other power on earth. Now are yousatisfied?"

  Her face quivered at the question. "It is--more than I deserve," shesaid. "You shall give up nothing for me."

  He put his hand upon her forehead. "Stella, will you give her a trial?Give her a year! Possibly by that time I may tell you more than I amable to tell you now. I don't know if you would welcome it, but thereare always a chosen few to whom success comes. I may be one of the few.I have a strong belief in my own particular star. Again I may fail. If Ifail, I swear I will give her up. I will start again at some new job.But will you be patient for a year? Will you, my darling, let me provemyself? I only ask--one year."

  Her eyes were full of tears. "Everard! You make me feel--ashamed," shesaid. "I won't--won't--be a drag on you, spoil your career! You mustforgive me for being jealous. It is because I love you so. But I know itis a selfish form of love, and I won't give way to it. I will neverseparate you from the career you have chosen. I only wish I could be ahelp to you."

  "You can only help me by being patient--just at present," he said.

  "And not asking tiresome questions!" She smiled at him though her tearshad overflowed. "But oh, you won't take risks, will you? Not unnecessaryrisks? It is so terrible to think of you in danger--to think--to thinkof that horrible deformed creature who sent--Ralph--" She broke offshuddering and clinging to him. It was the first time she had everspoken of her first husband by name to him.

  He dried the tears upon her cheeks. "My own girl, you needn't beafraid," he said, and though his words were kind she wondered at thegrimness of his voice. "I am not the sort of person to be disposed of inthat way. Shall we talk of something less agitating? I can't have youcrying on our wedding-night."

  His tone was repressive. She was conscious of a chill. Yet it was arelief to turn from the subject, for she recognized that there was smallsatisfaction to be derived therefrom. The sun was setting moreover, andit was growing cold. She let him lead her back into the bungalow, andthey presently sat down at the table that Peter had prepared with somuch solicitude.

  Later they lingered for awhile on the verandah, watching the blazingstars, till it came to Monck that his bride was nearly dropping withweariness and then he would not suffer her to remain any longer.

  When she had gone within, he lit a pipe and wandered out alone into thestarlight, following the deserted road that led to the Rajah's summerpalace.

  He paced along slowly with bent head, deep in thought. At the greatmarble gateway that led into the palace-garden he paused and stood for aspace in frowning contemplation. A small wind had sprung up and moanedamong the cypress-trees that overlooked the high wall. He seemed to belistening to it. Or was it to the hoot of an owl that came up from thevalley?

  Finally he drew near and deliberately tapped the ashes from hishalf-smoked pipe upon the shining marble. The embers smouldered and wentout. A black stain remained upon the dazzling white surface of the stonecolumn. He looked at it for a m
oment or two, then turned and retracedhis steps with grim precision.

  When he reached the bungalow, he turned into the room in which they haddined; and sat down to write.

  Time passed, but he took no note of it. It was past midnight ere hethrust his papers together at length and rose to go.

  The main passage of the bungalow was bright with moonlight as hetraversed it. A crouching figure rose up from a shadowed doorway at hisapproach. Peter the Great looked at him with reproach in his eyes.

  Monck stopped short. He accosted the man in his own language, but Petermade answer in the careful English that was his pride.

  "Even so, _sahib_, I watch over my _mem-sahib_ until you come to her. Ikeep her safe by night as well as by day. I am her servant."

  He stood back with dignity that Monck might pass, but Monck stood still.He looked at Peter with a level scrutiny for a few moments. Then: "It isenough," he said, with brief decision. "When I am not with your_mem-sahib_, I look to you to guard her."

  Peter made his stately _salaam_. Without further words, he conveyed thefact that without his permission no man might enter the room behind himand live.

  Very softly Monck turned the handle of the door and passed within,leaving him alone in the moonlight.