The Half-Hearted

by John Buchan

  CHAPTER XXII

  THE OUTPOSTS

  Towards the close of a wet afternoon two tongas discharged Lewis,George, two native servants, and a collection of gun-cases in thecourt-yard of the one hotel in Bardur. They had made a record journeyup country, stopping to present no letters of introduction, which arethe thieves of time. Now, as Lewis found himself in the strait valley,with the eternal snows where the sky should be, and sniffed the dry airfrom the granite walls, he glowed with the pleasure of recollection.

  The place was the same as ever. The same medley of races perambulatedthe streets. Sheep-skinned Central Asians and Mongolian merchants fromYarkand still displayed their wares and their cunning; Hunza tribesmen,half-clad Chitralis, wild-eyed savages from Yagistan mingled in thenarrow stone streets with the civilized Persian and Turcoman from beyondthe mountains. Kashmir sepoys, an untidy race, still took their ease inthe sun, and soldiers of South India from the Imperial Service Troopsshowed their odd accoutrements and queer race mixtures. The placelooked and smelled like a kind of home, and Lewis, with one eye on thegun-cases and one on the great hills, forgot his heart-sickness and hadleisure for the plain joys of expectation.

  "I am going to get to work at once," he said, when he had washed thedust out of his eyes and throat. "I shall go and call on the Logansthis very minute, and I expect we shall see Thwaite and some of thesoldiers at the club to-night." So George, much against his will, wascompelled to don a fresh suit and suffer himself to be conducted to thebungalow of the British Resident.

  The Sahib was from home, at Gilgit, but Madame would receive thestrangers. So the two found themselves in a drawing-room aggressivelyEnglish in its air, shaking hands with a small woman with kind eyes anda washed-out complexion.

  Mrs. Logan was unaffectedly glad to see them. She had that trick ofdominating her surroundings which English ladies seem to bear to theuttermost ends of the globe. There, in that land of snows and rock,with savage tribesmen not thirty miles away, and the Britishfrontier-line something less than fifty, she gave them tea and talkedsmall talk with the ease and gusto of an English country home.

  "It's the most unfortunate thing in the world," she cried. "If you hadonly wired, Gilbert would have stayed, but as it is he has gone down toGilgit about some polo ponies, and won't be back for two days. Thingsare so humdrum and easy-going up here that one loses interest in one'sprofession. Gilbert has nothing to do except arrange with the foremanof the coolies who are making roads, and hold stupid courts, and consultwith Captain Thwaite and the garrison people. The result is that thepoor man has become crazy about golf, and wastes all his spare money onpolo ponies. You can have no idea what a godsend a new face is to uspoor people. It is simply delightful to see you again, Mr. Haystoun.You left us about sixteen months ago, didn't you? Did you enjoy goingback?"

  Lewis said yes, with an absurd sense of the humour of the question. Thelady talked as if home had been merely an interlude, instead of thecrisis of his life.

  "And what did you do? And whom did you see? Please tell me, for I amdying for a gossip."

  "I have been home in Scotland, you know. Looking after my affairs andidling. I stood for Parliament and got beaten."

  "Really! How exciting! Where is your home in Scotland, Mr. Haystoun?You told me once, but I have forgotten. You know I have no end ofScotch relatives."

  "It's in rather a remote part, a place called Etterick, in Glenavelin."

  "Glenavelin, Glenavelin," the lady repeated. "That's where theManorwaters live, isn't it?"

  "My uncle," said Lewis.

  "I had a letter from a friend who was staying there in the summer. Iwonder if you ever met her. A Miss Wishart. Alice Wishart?"

  Lewis strove to keep any extraordinary interest out of his eyes. Thisvoice from another world had broken rudely in upon his new composure.

  "I knew her," he said, and his tone was of such studied carelessnessthat Mrs. Logan looked up at him curiously.

  "I hope you liked her, for her mother was a relation of my husband, andwhen I have been home the small Alice has always been a great friend ofmine. I wonder if she has grown pretty. Gilbert and I used to betabout it on different sides. I said she would be very beautiful someday."

  "She is very beautiful," said Lewis in a level voice, and George,feeling the thin ice, came to his friend's rescue. He could at leasttalk naturally of Miss Wishart.

  "The Wisharts took the place, you know, Mrs. Logan, so we saw a lot ofthem. The girl was delightful, good sportswoman and all that sort ofthing, and capital company. I wonder she never told us about you. Sheknew we were coming out here, for I told her, and she was veryinterested."

  "Yes, it's odd, for I suppose she had read Mr. Haystoun's book, wheremy husband comes in a good deal. I shall tell her about seeing you inmy next letter. And now tell me your plans."

  Lewis's face had begun to burn in a most compromising way. Those lastdays in Glenavelin had risen again before the eye of his mind and oldwounds were reopened. The thought that Alice was not yet wholly out ofhis life, that the new world was not utterly severed from the old,affected him with a miserable delight. Mrs. Logan became invested withan extraordinary interest. He pulled himself together to answer herquestion.

  "Oh, our errand is much the same as last time. We want to get all thesport we can, and if possible to cross the mountains into Turkestan. Iam rather keen on geographical work just now, and there's a bit of landup here which wants exploring."

  The lady laughed. "That sounds like poor dear Mr. Gribton. I supposeyou remember him? He left here in the summer, but when he lived inBardur he had got that northern frontier-line on the brain. He was ahorrible bore, for he would always work the conversation round to itsooner or later. I think it was really Mr. Gribton who made peopleoften lose interest in these questions. They had to assume an indolentattitude in pure opposition to his fussiness."

  "When will your husband be home?" Lewis asked.

  "In two days, or possibly three. I am so sorry about it. I'll wire atonce, but it's a slow journey, especially if he is bringing ponies. Ofcourse you want to see him before you start. It's such a pity, butBardur is fearfully empty of men just now. Captain Thwaite has gone offafter ibex, and though I think he will be back to-morrow, I am afraid hewill be too late for my dance. Oh, really, this is lucky. I hadforgotten all about it. Of course you two will come. That will maketwo more men, and we shall be quite a respectable party. We are havinga dance to-morrow night, and as the English people here are so few anduncertain in their movements we can't afford to miss a chance. You_must_ come. I've got the Thwaites and the Beresfords and the Waltons,and some of the garrison people who are down on leave. Oh, and there'sa man coming whom you must know. A Mr. Marker, a most delightfulperson. I don't think you met him before, but you must have heard myhusband talk about him. He is the very man for your purpose. Gilbertsays he knows the hills better than any of the Hunza tribesmen, and thathe is the best sportsman he ever met. Besides, he is such aninteresting person, very much a man of the world, you know, who has beeneverywhere and knows everybody."

  Lewis congratulated himself on his luck. "I should like very much tocome to the dance, and I especially want to meet Mr. Marker."

  "He is half Scotch, too," said the lady. "His mother was a Kirkpatrickor some name like that, and he actually seems to talk English with akind of Scotch accent. Of course that may be the German part of him.He is a Pomeranian count or something of the sort, and very rich. Youmight get him to go with you into the hills."

  "I wish we could," said Lewis falsely. His curiosity was keenlyexcited.

  "Why does he come up here such a lot?" George asked.

  "I suppose because he likes to 'knock about,' as you call it. He is atremendous traveller. He has been into Tibet and all over Turkestan andPersia. Gilbert says that he is the wonder of the age."

  "Is he here just now?"

  "No, I don't think so. I know he is coming to-morrow, because he wroteme about it, and promised to come to my dance. But he is a
very busyman, so I don't suppose he will arrive till just before. He wrote mefrom Gilgit, so he may find Gilbert there and bring him up with him."

  Marker, Marker. The air seemed full of the strange name. Lewis sawagain Wratislaw's wrinkled face when he talked of him, and rememberedhis words. "You were within an ace of meeting one of the cleverest menliving, a cheerful being in whom the Foreign Office is more interestedthan in any one else in the world." Wratislaw had never been in thehabit of talking without good authority. This Marker must be indeed agentleman of parts.

  Then conversation dwindled. Lewis, his mind torn between bittermemories and the pressing necessities of his mission, lent a stupid earto Mrs. Logan's mild complaints, her gossip about Bardur, her eagerquestions about home. George manfully took his place, and by afortunate clumsiness steered the flow of the lady's talk from Glenavelinand the Wisharts. Lewis spoke now and then, when appealed to, but hewas busy thinking out his own problem. On the morrow night he shouldmeet Marker, and his work would reveal itself. Meanwhile he was in thedark, the flimsiest adventurer on the wildest of errands. This easy,settled place, these Englishmen whose minds held fast by polo and games,these English ladies who had no thought beyond little social devices torelieve the monotony of the frontier, all seemed to make a mockery ofhis task. He had fondly imagined himself going to a certainty of toiland danger; to his vexation this certainty seemed to be changing intothe most conventional of visits to the most normal of places. Butto-morrow he should see Marker; and his hope revived at the prospect.

  "It is so pleasant seeing two fresh fellow-countrymen," Mrs. Logan wassaying. "Do you know, you two people look quite different from our menup here. They are all so dried up and tired out. Our complexions areall gone, and our eyes have got that weariness of the sun in them whichnever goes away even when we go home again. But you two look quite keenand fresh and enthusiastic. You mustn't mind compliments from an oldwoman, but I wish our own people looked as nice as you. You will makeus all homesick."

  A native servant entered, more noiseless and more dignified than anyEnglish footman, and announced another visitor. Lewis lifted his head,and saw the lady rise, smiling, to greet a tall man who had come in withthe frankness of a privileged acquaintance. "How do you do, Mr.Marker?" he heard. "I am so glad to see you. We didn't dare to expectyou till to-morrow. May I introduce two English friends, Mr. Haystounand Mr. Winterham?"

  And so the meeting came about in the simplest way. Lewis found himselfshaking hands cordially with a man who stood upright, quite in theEnglish fashion, and smiled genially on the two strangers. Then he tookthe vacant chair by Mrs. Logan, and answered the lady's questions withthe ease and kindliness of one who knows and likes his fellow-creatures.He deplored Logan's absence, grew enthusiastic about the dance, andproduced from a pocket certain sweetmeats, not made in Kashmir, for thetwo children. Then he turned to George and asked pleasantly about thejourney. How did they find the roads from Gilgit? He hoped they wouldget good sport, and if he could be of any service, would they commandhim? He had heard of Lewis's former visit, and, of course, he had readhis book. The most striking book of travel he had seen for long. Ofcourse he didn't agree with certain things, but each man for his ownview; and he should like to talk over the matter with Mr. Haystoun.Were they staying long? At Galetti's of course? By good luck that wasalso his headquarters. And so he talked pleasingly, in the style of alady's drawing-room, while Lewis, his mind consumed with interest, satpuzzling out the discords in his face.

  "Do you know, Mr. Marker, we were talking about you before you came in.I was telling Mr. Haystoun that I thought you were half Scotch. Mr.Haystoun, you know, lives in Scotland."

  "Do you really? Then I am a thousand times delighted to meet you, for Ihave many connections with Scotland. My grandmother was a Scotswoman,and though I have never been in your beautiful land, yet I have knownmany of your people. And, indeed, I have heard of one of your name whowas a friend of my father's--a certain Mr. Haystoun of Etterick."

  "My father," said Lewis.

  "Ah, I am so pleased to hear. My father and he met often in Paris, whenthey were attached to their different embassies. My father was in theGerman service."

  "Your mother was Russian, was she not?" Lewis asked tactlessly, impelledby he knew not what motive.

  "Ah, how did you know?" Mr. Marker smiled in reply, with the slightestraising of the eyebrows. "I have indeed the blood of many nationalitiesin my veins. Would that I were equally familiar with all nations, for Iknow less of Russia than I know of Scotland. We in Germany are theirnear neighbours, and love them, as you do here, something less thanourselves."

  He talked English with that pleasing sincerity which seems inseparablefrom the speech of foreigners, who use a purer and more formal idiomthan ourselves. George looked anxiously towards Lewis, with a questionin his eyes, but finding his companion abstracted, he spoke himself.

  "I have just arrived," said the other simply; "but it was from adifferent direction. I have been shooting in the hills, getting coolair into my lungs after the valleys. Why, Mrs. Logan, I have been downto Rawal Pindi since I saw you last, and have been choked with the sun.We northerners do not take kindly to glare and dust."

  "But you are an old hand here, they tell me. I wish you'd show me theropes, you know. I'm very keen, but as ignorant as a babe. What sortof rifles do they use here? I wish you'd come and look at myironmongery." And George plunged into technicalities.

  When Lewis rose to leave, following unwillingly the convention whichforbids a guest to stay more than five minutes after a new visitor hasarrived, Marker crossed the room with them. "If you're not engaged forto-night, Mr. Haystoun, will you do me the honour to dine with me? Iam alone, and I think we might manage to find things to talk about."Lewis accepted gladly, and with one of his sweetest smiles the gentlemanreturned to Mrs. Logan's side.