The Panther and The Pearl

by Doreen Owens Malek

Kalid was stymied. Why would Sarah be going there, when she could sail for New York or Boston without traveling a mile out of her way?

  “Did she say anything else?” Kalid asked.

  “She inquired about the sailing times for the packet from Calais to Dover.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say that in the first place? She must have been going to Dover!”

  Duclos shrugged. “It’s possible.”

  Kalid stared the man down, exasperated. The next one of these Frenchmen who shrugged at him was going to get punched.

  “Did she say anything about why she was going there?” Kalid demanded.

  “She said nothing about Dover. You did.”

  Kalid looked over at the stationmaster, who was watching the byplay with a detached expression.

  He had already been paid.

  Kalid handed Duclos a two hundred franc note and said, “Merci.” Then he stalked out of the stationmaster’s office and hailed a hansom cab at the curb outside the station.

  “Take me to the docks,” he said.

  It took him a couple of hours and a good deal more baksheesh to determine that Sarah had indeed sailed for Calais, and to get a ticket for himself. He was leaning over the railing, studying the churning waves from the deck of the last boat of the day before he stopped to examine what he was doing.

  He had now pursued Sarah through several countries, gone without sleep for two nights, and spent an untold amount of money. He wasn’t even sure Sarah would listen to him if he found her, and in the meanwhile his own country was rudderless as he ran around the globe anonymously trying to track her down. He had come by himself, against the wishes of his grandmother and his closest advisors, because he thought this personal mission should be his alone. But he was now bone tired, exasperated with Sarah for unwittingly leading him on this merry chase, and, if the truth be told, weary of being treated like an ordinary citizen when he was used to special handling. His passport carried only his name and a sepia toned daguerrotype, and without his robes and his entourage, foreign travel was a different event altogether from what he had experienced previously. Only his fierce desire to see Sarah again kept him from turning around and going straight home.

  He looked into the distance in the fading light, idly watching the gray clouds merge with the gray sea.

  Across the water was England, which he knew well from his time at Oxford.

  Hopefully, Sarah was there.

  “My dear, this is such a surprise!” Emily Hepton said, kissing Sarah on both cheeks. “When I didn’t hear anything further from James, I assumed you weren’t coming to see me.”

  “I got here before his letter did,” Sarah said, removing her hat as Emily gestured for her umbrella.

  “How did you get here?”

  “I hired a coach at the livery in Dover. The driver dropped me off at the end of the lane.”

  “Then you must be wet quite through. Let’s get those things off you.” Emily hung her jacket and other effects on a clothes tree next to the door and then led the way inside the house into a cozy sitting room. It was still raining, and the wind blew through the eaves of the cottage as they sat before the fire and Emily put aside her knitting. A striped tabby rubbed up against Emily’s legs luxuriously and then bolted down the hall.

  “Samantha is a little shy with strangers,” Emily said, smiling fondly. “She’ll come sneaking back in here shortly to take another peek at you.”

  Sarah laughed.

  “Now let me look at you. I haven’t seen you for...how long is it?” Emily asked.

  “Ten years.”

  “Yes, and you’ve become a lovely young woman.”

  “And you haven’t changed at all.”

  “Telling fibs is a sin, child.”

  “I’m not telling fibs. You look exactly the same as I remember you, right down to the cameo brooch.”

  Emily fingered the pin fastened to the bunch of lace at her throat.

  “Yes, Grandmother Gibson’s brooch. I always wear it.”

  Emily was soberly dressed in a navy fitted dress with a sweeping apron front and the full bustle of some seasons past. Her graying reddish hair was swept up on top of her head in a loose knot, and held in place with two ebony hairpins like skewers that Sarah remembered from her childhood.

  “Now, what would you say to some tea?” Emily asked. “I’ve already fired up the stove for lunch so I’ll just go and put the kettle on now. Then we can settle down and have a nice, long chat.”

  “Tea sounds wonderful,” Sarah said.

  Emily disappeared through an archway and Sarah looked around at the main room of the cottage. The fireplace dominated the space, with an oak mantel laden with family collectibles, knick-knacks and stiffly posed photographs lined up next to a ship’s decanter. The furniture was old and comfortable, with hand tatted doilies on the back of each chair and knotted fringe along the skirt of the sofa. The wallpaper was typical Victorian, pink and white stripes embellished with cabbage roses, and the organdy curtains draped across the front window were tied back with gold tassels. It was a room like Emily: prim, fussy, but essentially serene.

  Emily came back and said, “The tea is steeping. It should be ready in a few minutes. I’m afraid I’ve become like the English about tea, spending too much money on special blends from Ceylon and China and squabbling with clerks about the size and color of the leaves.”

  “It’s the national pastime here, isn’t it?” Sarah said, and Emily laughed.

  “I suppose it is, I got the taste from my husband.”

  Emily sat across from Sarah and picked up her knitting again. “Now you must tell me what’s been happening at home.”

  Sarah filled her in on the Woolcott family’s recent history, skillfully editing those items she knew Emily would find shocking. She did not discuss her time with Kalid, leading Emily to believe that her visit to Turkey had consisted only of sightseeing and visiting with James and Beatrice. Her aunt interrupted with questions and got up several times to fetch and renew the tea. By the time the pot was empty Emily said, “I’m hungry, aren’t you? It’s past time for lunch, why don’t you join me in the kitchen and we’ll see what we can rustle up for us?”

  Sarah rose and as she passed the older woman her aunt hugged her suddenly.

  “Isn’t this nice? I’ve missed seeing family, I’m so glad you decided to stop here for a visit. How long can you stay?”

  “Only for tonight. I have to be on the Atlantic Star sailing for Boston tomorrow. After that all the sailings are for New York and nothing’s going directly to Boston for a month.”

  “Oh, I was hoping you could stay a few days at least. I’m alone here since Giles died and I’m so grateful for the company.”

  “We’ll have tonight,” Sarah said kindly, and followed Emily into the kitchen.

  Kalid looked around at the paneled walls of the third inn he had visited and sighed. There had to be ten of these places in the Dover area and he had no idea which one Sarah had patronized, or if she had set out for some other destination immediately upon her arrival in England. He thought that unlikely, since she would have disembarked in late evening, but Sarah had always been one to surprise him. He looked around at the clutch of early drinkers, who were eyeing him suspiciously, and then approached the innkeeper, who was wiping down the bar.

  “Are you the landlord?” Kalid asked him.

  The man nodded curtly.

  “I’m looking for an American woman who might have passed through here,” Kalid said. “Tall, with blonde hair, fair skin and blue eyes. Have you seen anyone like that?”

  The barman stared back at him, still wiping.

  Kalid sighed, took out his wallet and held up a note with Queen Victoria’s picture on it.

  The barman turned to look at a woman who was passing behind Kalid carrying two mugs of ale. She stopped and said, “What?”

  “This gentleman wants to talk to you,” the barman said, and disappeared through a swinging door behind the bar.<
br />
  Ethel put down the mugs and wiped her damp hands on her apron.She surveyed the stranger, a tall, slim man with dusky skin, luxuriant black hair, and riveting dark brown eyes. She took a step forward, then stopped.

  “Help you, love?” she said cautiously.

  “I’m looking for an American woman who may have stayed here,” Kalid said. He was taking another bill out of his wallet when Ethel said, “Put your money away.”

  Kalid looked up alertly.

  “Why do you want to see her?” Ethel asked.

  “She’s my fiancée. Or, she was.”

  “Then why isn’t she with you?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “It must be.”

  “We had a fight and she left me. I’ve come after her.”

  Ethel looked back at him stonily.

  Kalid ran his hand through his hair. “Look, madam, I’ve come a long way and I’m very tired. It’s extremely important that I find this young lady, but if you aren’t going to help me I wish you would just say so. I haven’t time to waste.”

  “Keep your shirt on, sonny, I’m going to help you. I just want to make sure that you’re not planning to cause more trouble for Sarah.”

  Kalid lunged forward and seized Ethel’s arm in a viselike grip. “You know Sarah?”

  “She was here.”

  “Where is she now?” he demanded, looking around wildly.

  “She’s not hiding in the pantry, laddie, I can assure you,” Ethel said dryly.

  “Tell me!”

  “Tone your voice down or Albie will be out here in a second to give you what for,” Ethel said frostily.

  Kalid released her.

  “That’s better,” Ethel said, rubbing her arm. She studied Kalid with a detached air. “Are you really a king or something in your own country?”

  “Or something.”

  “Well, that don’t cut much mustard around here.”

  “I understand that.”

  “If you want information from me you’ll have to talk to me real respectful,” Ethel said, folding her arms, relishing her moment of power.

  Kalid startled her, and the rest of the patrons of the Leaping Stag, by going down on one knee and bowing his head.

  “Please tell me where Sarah is,” he said quietly.

  “Here, what’s going on, Ethel?” Albie said, appearing from the back room, staring at Kalid as if the younger man were having a frothing fit.

  “Get up, sonny, get up,” Ethel said nervously, looking around her in distress. She had not anticipated this.

  Kalid rose, never taking his eyes from Ethel’s. She sighed and relented.

  “She’s visiting her auntie in Gilly-on-Strait,” Ethel said.

  “Where is that?” Kalid called over his shoulder, already heading for the door.

  “Down the road a mile or so, just ask anyone.”

  “Where can I hire a horse?”

  “There’s a livery stable three doors away. My boy Henry works there, he probably took your lady out to Mrs. Hepton’s. Ask for him, he’ll know the way.”

  Kalid turned on his heel and ran back to Ethel, taking her in his arms and planting a kiss firmly on her lips. When he released her she staggered back, amazed.

  “Thank you, thank you, I’ll never forget you. What was the name, Hepton?”

  “That’s right.”

  Kalid dashed out the door without another word, leaving everyone in the room staring after him.

  “Who the hell was that?” Albie said to Ethel.

  “A man in love,” Ethel replied, and touched her fingers lightly to her lips.

  Emily was heating water to do the breakfast dishes when her cat streaked out of the kitchen and shot into the front room. Emily wiped her eyes with the corner of her sleeve and went to see who was coming down the lane. She was feeling a little teary since Sarah’s departure and was not really up to having visitors.

  When she opened the door a most exotic looking young man was standing on her brick paving stones.

  “May I help you?” she said, wondering if some new neighbors from India or the East had moved into the area.

  “I’m looking for Sarah Woolcott,” he said bluntly.

  “I...I’m her aunt,” Emily replied, staring.

  “May I speak with her?”

  “She isn’t here, she left about an hour ago to return to America,” Emily said.

  Kalid crashed his fist through her front door.

  Emily shrieked and tried to run back into her house, but Kalid caught her and spun her around to face him.

  “Which dock is she leaving from? What’s the name of the ship?” he demanded, holding her fast.

  Emily’s eyelids fluttered and she sagged into his arms. Her skin was very pale.

  Kalid swept her up and carried her inside, cursing the impatience which had caused him to manhandle her. Now she might pass out before he could get the information he needed.

  He set Emily on the sofa and chafed her wrists briskly, waiting until some color came back into her face before saying, “I’m not going to do your niece any harm, Mrs. Hepton. I have been looking for her for a long while and I was just frustrated that I had missed her again, that’s all.”

  “What do you want with her?”

  “I want to marry her.”

  Emily’s eyes widened. “Marry?”

  “Yes. We were about to get married when we had a disagreement and she left me.”

  “Where?”

  “In Turkey.”

  “She said nothing of this to me.”

  “Well, I can understand why she wouldn’t, but it is the truth. I don’t have a lot of time to convince you, Mrs. Hepton, I assume that her boat will be sailing very soon.”

  Emily looked back at him silently.

  “At least give me the chance to talk to her.”

  “You’re not British?” Emily said suddenly.

  “No.”

  “But you have a British accent.”

  “I went to school here. Please, Mrs. Hepton.”

  “How did Emily meet you?”

  “I’m the Pasha of Bursa, a district in Turkey. She was visiting there,” he replied, imagining Sarah’s reaction if she heard that description of their meeting.

  “And she had agreed to marry you?”

  “Yes, yes, you can check all of this with her cousin James if you like, but right now I have no time to go into a long explanation about it.”

  Emily said nothing.

  “Mrs. Hepton, I’m alone, I’m unarmed, the only thing I have right now is a rented horse tied up outside this house. All I’m asking for is the opportunity to talk to Sarah for a few minutes. Will you please tell me where she’s going?”

  The intensity of his plea convinced her. “Dock four, off Wellington Street,” Emily said. “The ship is the Atlantic Star. She took my neighbor’s coach, she didn’t want me to see her off. You might be able to outdistance her on a single fast horse. She left at nine AM, the sailing is at eleven.”

  Kalid seized her hand and kissed it. “I’m out of money, I’ll send you a wire to pay for the door,” he said, springing up and dashing outside.

  Emily followed more slowly, watching him mount the horse at a dead run and take off at a pelting pace down the lane, kicking the animal’s flanks.

  Emily sagged against her splintered door, wondering if she had done the right thing.

  Sarah stood at the railing of the ocean liner and looked down at the bustle below her. Late passengers were still arriving, climbing up the wooden walkway with their luggage, and the pier was clogged with their friends and relatives, crowding the departure platform and staring upward at the ship looming above them. The horn behind the twin smokestacks sounded once and she jumped, then was about to turn away when she caught sight of a moving figure cutting through the throng.

  She looked more closely. It was a man on a horse, galloping across the pier, and people were diving out of the way as he plowed through the crowd like a shark�
��s fin slicing through water. As he got closer she could hear the astonished cries of those he passed. She watched in amazement as the horse jumped the ropes sealing off the embarkation area and step danced up the planking.

  People on the boat were running to the railings to see the cause of the commotion, and several sailors started for the lower deck. On the bridge the captain gestured for one of his officers to go down and see what was happening.

  A security man who reached for the horse’s bridle missed and fell into the water, and shrill police whistles sounded as bobbies converged on the scene, making their way toward the ship.

  Sarah’s eyes widened and her hand went to her mouth as she recognized the rider.

  It was Kalid.

  Chapter 16

  Sarah began to push her way down to the gangway area, her heart pounding, a thousand thoughts rushing through her head. By the time she reached the ship’s entrance Kalid was being restrained by two bobbies and a third was holding the reins of his horse.

  “Sarah!” he yelled when he saw her, struggling with the policemen. “Sarah, you have to listen to me. I love you and I’ll do anything you want to make you stay with me!”

  “Do you know this man, miss?” a ship’s officer said, gazing down at her as everyone else stared at the spectacle, intrigued.

  “Yes,” Sarah said.

  “Sarah, I’m being arrested. Please come down to the police station,” Kalid called.

  “May I speak with him?” Sarah asked.

  The purser looked at the two bobbies dragging Kalid away. They were now being assisted by a British sailor as Kalid kicked and twisted, trying to break their hold.

  “Hold on a minute,” the purser said, and the policemen stopped. The purser led Sarah to Kalid, signaling with his eyes for the bobbies to continue holding their prisoner.

  “Kalid, what on earth are you doing here?” Sarah asked, taking in his disheveled appearance and heavy beard.

  “I followed you from Paris. I had a hotel suite for us there, but when you didn’t show up I found out that you were going to Calais and then to Dover. I spoke with your aunt.”

  “Is she all right?” Sarah asked, imagining Emily’s reaction to Kalid’s visit.Sarah knew what he was like when he wanted something.