Complete Works of F Marion Crawford

by F. Marion Crawford

  ‘And you say you never keep a secret!’

  The delicious ripple was in Lady Maud’s sweet voice as she spoke. Perhaps it came a little in spite of herself, and she would certainly have controlled her tone if she had thought of Leven just then. But she was a very natural creature, after all, and she could not and would not pretend to be sorry that he was dead, though the manner of his end had seemed horrible to her when she had been able to think over the news, after Van Torp had got safely away. So far there had only been three big things in her life: her love for a man who was dead, her tremendous determination to do some real good for his memory’s sake, and her deep gratitude to Van Torp, who had made that good possible, and who, strangely enough, seemed to her the only living person who really understood her and liked her for her own sake, without the least idea of making love. And she saw in him what few suspected, except little Ida and Miss More — the real humanity and faithful kindness that dwelt in the terribly hard and coarse-grained fighting financier. Lady Maud had her faults, no doubt, but she was too big, morally, to be disturbed by what seemed to Margaret Donne an intolerable vulgarity of manner and speech.

  As for Margaret, she now felt that painful little remorse that hurts us when we realise that we have suspected an innocent person of something dreadful, even though we may have contributed to the ultimate triumph of the truth. Van Torp unconsciously deposited a coal of fire on her head.

  ‘I’d just like to say how much I appreciate your kindness in singing last night, Madame da Cordova,’ he said. ‘From what you knew and told me on the steamer, you might have had a reasonable doubt, and I couldn’t very well explain it away before. I wish you’d some day tell me what I can do for you. I’m grateful, honestly.’

  Margaret saw that he was much in earnest, and as she felt that she had done him great injustice, she held out her hand with a frank smile.

  ‘I’m glad I was able to be of use,’ she said. ‘Come and see me in town.’

  ‘Really? You won’t throw me out if I do?’

  Margaret laughed.

  ‘No, I won’t throw you out!’

  ‘Then I’ll come some day. Thank you.’

  Van Torp had long given up all hope that she would ever marry him, but it was something to be on good terms with her again, and for the sake of that alone he would have risked a good deal.

  The four paired off, and Lady Maud walked in front with Van Torp, while Margaret and Logotheti followed more slowly; so the couples did not long keep near one another, and in less than five minutes they lost each other altogether among the trees.

  Margaret had noticed something very unusual in the Greek’s appearance when they had met half an hour earlier, and she had been amazed when she realised that he wore no jewellery, no ruby, no emeralds, no diamonds, no elaborate chain, and that his tie was neither green, yellow, sky-blue, nor scarlet, but of a soft dove grey which she liked very much. The change was so surprising that she had been on the point of asking him whether anything dreadful had happened; but just then Lady Maud had come up with them.

  They walked a little way now, and when the others were out of sight Margaret sat down on one of the many boulders that strewed the park. Her companion stood before her, and while he lit a cigarette she surveyed him deliberately from head to foot. Her fresh lips twitched as they did when she was near laughing, and she looked up and met his eyes.

  ‘What in the world has happened to you since yesterday?’ she asked in a tone of lazy amusement. ‘You look almost like a human being!’

  ‘Do I?’ he asked, between two small puffs of smoke, and he laughed a little.

  ‘Yes. Are you in mourning for your lost illusions?’

  ‘No. I’m trying “to create and foster agreeable illusions” in you. That’s the object of all art, you know.’

  ‘Oh! It’s for me, then? Really?’

  ‘Yes. Everything is. I thought I had explained that the other night!’ His tone was perfectly unconcerned, and he smiled carelessly as he spoke.

  ‘I wonder what would happen if I took you at your word,’ said Margaret, more thoughtfully than she had spoken yet.

  ‘I don’t know. You might not regret it. You might even be happy!’

  There was a little silence, and Margaret looked down.

  ‘I’m not exactly miserable as it is,’ she said at last. ‘Are you?’

  ‘Oh no!’ answered Logotheti. ‘I should bore you if I were!’

  ‘Awfully!’ She laughed rather abruptly. ‘Should you want me to leave the stage?’ she asked after a moment.

  ‘You forget that I like the Cordova just as much as I like Margaret Donne.’

  ‘Are you quite sure?’

  ‘Absolutely!’

  ‘Let’s try it!’

  The Diva’s Ruby

  A SEQUEL TO “PRIMADONNA” AND “FAIR MARGARET”

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER II

  CHAPTER III

  CHAPTER IV

  CHAPTER V

  CHAPTER VI

  CHAPTER VII

  CHAPTER VIII

  CHAPTER IX

  CHAPTER X

  CHAPTER XI

  CHAPTER XII

  CHAPTER XIII

  CHAPTER XIV

  CHAPTER XV

  The original frontispiece

  CHAPTER 1

  THERE IS A ruby mine hidden in the heart of the mountains near a remote little city of Central Asia, unknown to European travellers; and the secret of the treasure belongs to the two chief families of the place, and has been carefully guarded for many generations, handed down through the men from father to son; and often the children of these two families have married, yet none of the women ever learned the way to the mine from their fathers, or their brothers, or their husbands, none excepting one only, and her name was Baraka, which may perhaps mean ‘Blessed’; but no blessing came to her when she was born. She was much whiter and much more beautiful than the other girls of the little Tartar city; her face was oval like an ostrich egg, her skin was as the cream that rises on sheep’s milk at evening, and her eyes were like the Pools of Peace in the Valley of Dark Moons; her waist also was a slender pillar of ivory, and round her ankle she could make her thumb meet her second finger; as for her feet, they were small and quick and silent as young mice. But she was not blessed.

  When she was in her seventeenth year a traveller came to the little city, who was not like her own people; he was goodly to see, and her eyes were troubled by the sight of him, as the Pools of Peace are darkened when the clouds lie on the mountain-tops and sleep all day; for the stranger was tall and very fair, and his beard was like spun gold, and he feared neither man nor evil spirit, going about alone by day and night. Furthermore, he was a great physician, and possessed a small book, about the size of a man’s hand, in which was contained all the knowledge of the world. By means of this book, and three small buttons that tasted of mingled salt and sugar, he cured Baraka’s father of a mighty pain in the midriff which had tormented him a whole week. He brought with him also a written letter from a holy man to the chiefs of the town; therefore they did not kill him, though he had a good Mauser revolver with ammunition, worth much money, and other things useful to believers.

  Satan entered the heart of Baraka, and she loved the traveller who dwelt in her father’s house, for she was not blessed; and she stood before him in the way when he went out, and when he returned she was sitting at the door watching, and she took care to show her cream-white arm, and her slender ankle, and even her beautiful face when neither her father nor her mother was near. But he saw little and cared less, and was as grave as her father and the other greybeards of the town.

  When she perceived that he was not moved by the sight of her, she watched him more closely; for she said in her girl’s heart that the eyes that are blind to a beautiful woman see one of three things: gold, or power, or heaven; but her sight was fixed only on him. Then her throat was dry, her heart fluttered in her maiden breast lik
e a frightened bird, and sometimes, when she would have tried to speak, she felt as if her tongue were broken and useless; the fire ran lightly along her delicate body, her eyes saw nothing clearly, and a strange rushing sound filled her ears; and then, all at once, a fine dew wet her forehead and cooled it, and she trembled all over and was as pale as death — like Sappho, when a certain god-like man was near. Yet the stranger saw nothing, and his look was bright and cold as a winter’s morning in the mountains.

  Almost every day he went out and climbed the foot-hills alone, and when the sun was lowering he came back bringing herbs and flowers, which he dried carefully and spread between leaves of grey paper in a large book; and he wrote spells beside them in an unknown tongue, so that no one dared to touch the book when he went out, lest the genii should wake and come out from between the pages, to blind the curious and strike the gossips dumb, and cast a leprosy on the thief.

  At night he lay on the roof of the fore-house beside the gate of the court, because it was cool there. Baraka came to him, before midnight, when her mother was in a deep sleep; she knelt at his side while he slept in the starlight, and she laid her head beside his, on the sack that was his pillow, and for a little while she was happy, being near him, though he did not know she was there. But presently she remembered that her mother might wake and call her, and she spoke very softly, close to his ear, fearing greatly lest he should start from his sleep and cry out.

  ‘The ruby mine is not far off,’ she said. ‘I know the secret place. Rubies! Rubies! Rubies! You shall have as many as you can carry of the blood-red rubies!’

  He opened his eyes, and even in the starlight they were bright and cold. She stroked his hand softly and then pressed it a little.

  ‘Come with me and you shall know the great secret,’ she whispered. ‘You shall fill this sack that is under your head, and then you shall take me with you to Egypt, and we will live in a marble palace and have many slaves, and be always together. For you will always remember that it was Baraka who showed you where the rubies were, and even when you are tired of her you will treat her kindly and feed her with fig paste and fat quails, such as I hear they have in the south all winter, and Frank rice, and coffee that has been picked over, bean by bean, for the great men.’

  She said all this in a whisper, stroking his hand; and while she whispered he smiled in his great golden beard that seemed as silvery in the starlight as her father’s.

  ‘That is women’s talk,’ he answered. ‘Who has seen mines of rubies? and if you know where they are, why should you show them to me? You are betrothed. If you had knowledge of hidden treasures you would keep it for your husband. This is some trick to destroy me.’

  ‘May these hands wither to the wrists if a hair of your head be harmed through me,’ she answered; and as she knelt beside him, the two little hands held his face towards her very tenderly, and then one of them smoothed the thick hair back from his forehead.

  ‘You are betrothed,’ he repeated, ‘and I am your father’s guest. Shall I betray him?’

  ‘I care nothing, neither for father, nor mother, nor brothers, nor betrothed,’ Baraka answered. ‘I will give you the riches of Solomon if you will take me, for I will have no other man.’

  ‘There are no rubies,’ said the stranger. ‘Show them to me and I will believe.’

  The girl laughed very low.

  ‘Did I not know you for a man of little faith?’ she asked. ‘I have shown you my arm from the wrist to the shoulder. Is it not like the tusk of a young elephant? Yet you have not believed. I have shown you my ankles, and you have seen me span them with my fingers as I sat at the door, yet you believed not. I have unveiled my face, which it is a shame to do, but you could not believe. I have come to you in the starlight when you were asleep, and still you have no faith that I love you, though I shall be cast out to perish if I am found here. But I will give you a little handful of rubies, and you will believe, and take me, when I have shown you where you may get thousands like them.’

  She took from her neck a bag of antelope skin, no larger than her closed hand, and gave it to him with the thin thong by which it had hung.

  ‘When you have seen them in the sun you will want others,’ she said. ‘I will take you to the place, and when you have filled your sack with them you will love me enough to take me away. It is not far to the place. In two hours we can go and come. To-morrow night, about this time, I will wake you again. It will not be safe to unbar the door, so you must let me down from this roof by a camel rope, and then follow me.’

  When Baraka was gone the stranger sat up on his carpet and opened the small bag to feel the stones, for he knew that he could hardly see them in the starlight; but even the touch and the weight told him something, and he guessed that the girl had not tried to deceive him childishly with bits of glass. Though the bag had been in her bosom, and the weather was hot, the stones were as cold as jade; and moreover he felt their shape and knew at once that they might really be rough rubies, for he was well versed in the knowledge of precious stones.

  When the day began to dawn he went down from the roof to the common room of the fore-house, where guests were quartered, yet although there was no other stranger there he would not take the bag from his neck to examine the stones, lest some one should be watching him from a place of hiding; but afterwards, when he was alone in the foot-hills and out of sight of the town, searching as usual for new plants and herbs, he crept into a low cave at noon, and sat down just inside the entrance, so that he could see any one coming while still a long way off, and there he emptied the contents of the little leathern wallet into his hand, and saw that Baraka had not deceived him; and as he looked closely at the stones in the strong light at the entrance of the cave, the red of the rubies was reflected in the blue of his bright eyes, and made a little purple glare in them that would have frightened Baraka; and he smiled behind his great yellow beard.

  He took from an inner pocket a folded sheet on which a map was traced in black and green ink, much corrected and extended in pencil; and he studied the map thoughtfully in the cave while the great heat of the day lasted; but the lines that his eye followed did not lead towards Persia, Palestine, and Egypt, where Baraka wished to live with him in a marble palace and eat fat quails and fig paste.

  She came to him again that night on the roof, bringing with her a small bundle, tightly rolled and well tied up. He wrapped his blanket round her body, and brought it up under her arms so that the rope should not hurt her when her weight came upon it, and so he let her down over the edge of the roof to the ground, and threw the rope after her; and he let himself over, holding by his hands, so that when he was hanging at the full length of his long arms he had only a few feet to drop, for he was very tall and the fore-house was not high, and he wished to take the rope with him.

  Baraka’s house was at the head of the town, towards the foot-hills; every one was sleeping, and there was no moon. She followed the stony sheep-track that struck into the hills only a few hundred paces from the last houses, and the stranger followed her closely. He had his sack on his shoulder, his book of plants and herbs was slung behind him by a strap, and in his pockets he had all the money he carried for his travels and his letters to the chiefs, and a weapon; but he had left all his other belongings, judging them to be of no value compared with a camel-bag full of rubies, and only a hindrance, since he would have to travel far on foot before daylight, by dangerous paths.

  The girl trod lightly and walked fast, and as the man followed in her footsteps he marked the way, turn by turn, and often looked up at the stars overhead as men do who are accustomed to journeying alone in desert places. For some time Baraka led him through little valleys he had often traversed, and along hillsides familiar to him, and at last she entered a narrow ravine which he had once followed to its head, where he had found that it ended abruptly in a high wall of rock, at the foot of which there was a clear pool that did not overflow. It was darker in the gorge, but the rocks were almost whit
e, so that it was quite possible to see the way by the faint light.

  The man and the girl stood before the pool; the still water reflected the stars.

  ‘This is the place,’ Baraka said. ‘Do you see anything?’

  ‘I see water and a wall of rock,’ the man answered. ‘I have been here alone by day. I know this place. There is nothing here, and there is no way up the wall.’

  Baraka laughed softly.

  ‘The secret could not have been kept by my fathers for fourteen generations if it were so easy to find out,’ she said. ‘The way is not easy, but I know it.’

  ‘Lead,’ replied the traveller. ‘I will follow.’

  ‘No,’ returned the girl. ‘I will go a little way down the gorge and watch, while you go in.’

  The man did not trust her. How could he tell but that she had brought him to an ambush where he was to be murdered for the sake of his money and his good weapon? The rubies were real, so far as he could tell, but they might be only a bait. He shook his head.

  ‘Listen,’ said Baraka. ‘At the other side of the pool there is a place where the water from this spring flows away under the rock. That is the passage.’

  ‘I have seen the entrance,’ answered the traveller. ‘It is so small that a dog could not swim through it.’

  ‘It looks so. But it is so deep that one can walk through it easily, with one’s head above water. It is not more than fifty steps long. That is how I found it, for one day I wandered here alone in the morning for shade, when the air was like fire; and being alone I bathed in the clear pool to cool myself, and I found the way and brought back the stones, which I have hidden ever since. For if my father and brothers know that I have seen the treasure they will surely kill me, because the women must never learn the secret. You see,’ she laughed a little, ‘I am the first of us who has known it, since many generations, and I have already betrayed it to you! They are quite right to kill us when we find it out!’