For several days nothing of importance took place.
Joan and Hugh duly received a letter from the secretary of the Club informing them that they were elected as members and asking politely for their entrance fee. Hugh and Miles each engaged a bearer, and Cousins’ domestic duties were considerably lessened in consequence, and in fact became practically nil. Miles called on Hudson, as he had determined, only to find him out, so he left his card and received an invitation to dine with the civil servant a week later. Joan had several callers, and was invited with Hugh to numberless teas and dinner parties. She was a very fine tennis player, and in consequence found it very easy to get a game whenever she wanted one. Of course, as Miles had prophesied, the men began to crowd round her, and Hugh found himself remarkably popular all of a sudden, a popularity which he reflected cynically was due to the possession of a beautiful sister.
It was not long before the young secret agent began to feel almost an admiration for his enemies. He knew he was watched, and yet, try as he would, he could never discover anybody following him, or taking the least interest in his movements. Even in the College where he had information that two men had been placed as students to shadow him, he was quite unable to find out who the two were. Kamper appeared to have entirely disappeared, and neither Hugh, Miles nor Cousins were able to come across the slightest clue as to his whereabouts, yet they knew that he must be very close at hand.
Hugh had sent a long cabled report to the Chief in code telling him of Miles’ discoveries, and in return, received the following:
Your information of immense value – acting on it immediately – am informing authorities Lahore in secret of your position – they will communicate with you later – hope you will succeed in attending meeting – very important.
‘All very well,’ murmured Hugh to himself, as he read the cable over again before destroying it; ‘but how am I to be present at the meeting! I’ve got to find out where it will take place first.’
The dinner party at Rahtz’s house was attended by several other people besides themselves, and Hugh and Joan were introduced to Novar, who in his smug way laid himself out to be pleasant to them. Miles, on this occasion, rather gave emphasis to the fact that he was a wealthy, amusing American with a love for travel and a very ordinary amount of intelligence. Hugh smiled to himself as he noticed the impression the American was deliberately creating, and wondered what Rahtz and Novar would think if they found out who he really was.
A week went by. On the night that Miles was dining with Hudson, Joan also was fulfilling a dinner engagement with some friends, to which Hugh had been invited, but was unable to accept owing to having previously promised to take the chair at a lecture in the College. Cousins went out at half past nine and strolled in the direction of Novar’s house, a beautiful, large bungalow lying well back in extensive grounds, and situated on the Mall. Knowing that he was probably followed, the little man walked slowly in order to give an impression that he was merely out for a stroll. He entered the Lawrence Gardens – Lahore’s beauty spot – and passing the zoo, turned sharply up a path that was so overhung with trees that it was in pitch darkness. Then suddenly stepping behind a fine old banyan he crouched low and waited. At once he became aware of the soft, almost imperceptible tread of someone approaching. The individual crept by, and the footsteps receded – it was so dark that Cousins was only aware of the vaguest outline. He immediately went back the way he had come, and hurried along the Mall to Novar’s bungalow.
He waited in the shadow of the gate for nearly half an hour before venturing to move, watching the road anxiously the while to find out if he had been followed again. Satisfied at last he took a pair of socks from his pocket, and pulling them over his shoes to deaden the sound of his movements he drew quietly towards the house. There appeared to be nobody about, so after waiting again for some time, he commenced to encircle the building, looking for some means of entry.
All the windows were covered by the wire mosquito netting, which is to be seen in almost every house in India, and the doors also were protected by the same fine mesh. Cousins had almost encircled the building when he found a small service door which by some accident had been left open. Merging himself into the shadows round it, the secret agent worked his way along, then with a sudden glide was inside with such rapidity that it would have taken a quick-eyed man to have noticed him.
‘Well, I’m in!’ he muttered with satisfaction. ‘“Audaces fortuna juvat!” Now for the most ticklish part of the job!’
The lights were on all over the bungalow, which made his task all the greater, because he could be seen so easily from outside as well as by anyone within. But such considerations did not worry Cousins much. He found his way past the service rooms to the main corridor. On his right was apparently the dining room, and next to that the drawing room, both of which he decided were not at all likely to contain anything of interest to him. They were both empty, and taking a deep breath he stepped out into the corridor, and hurried along to the first room beyond the drawing room. This was obviously a lady’s bedroom, and giving a rapid look round he stood behind the heavy curtains which hung by the door for a minute and listened intently for any sound indicative of an alarm being raised. As the silence remained undisturbed, he emerged once more into the corridor, and went along to another room. Just as he was about to enter it he heard the sound of subdued voices, and carefully looked in. It was another bedroom, and two Indian servants were apparently engaged in folding clothes in the little dressing room adjoining it.
‘That looks as though it might be Novar’s bedroom,’ muttered Cousins. ‘Dash those bearers!’
He moved on, and came to another bedroom, which was obviously a guest chamber. He spent very little time there, and continued his way along the corridor. Presently he came to a narrow passage, which led to a room in darkness. He entered this, and feeling for the door closed it upon himself, and stood for a moment breathing deeply like a man who has been through a nerve racking experience. Then taking an electric torch from his pocket he held it downwards and flashed it on for a moment. The illumination thus afforded enabled him to see a large window, by the side of which hung long thick curtains. He went forward and drew them together so that not a vestige of light could penetrate to the outside world, and returning to the door repeated the performance with the curtains which hung there. That done he uttered a sigh of relief, and switching on his torch looked round him with curiosity.
He found himself in the study of an obviously busy and prosperous man. A thick carpet lay on the floor with a couple of valuable-looking rugs spread thereon. In the middle of the room, facing the window, was a large oak desk, with a swivel-chair before it. On his right was a row of bookshelves containing a great number of books of all descriptions, and on his left a fine open fireplace, with a large safe let into the wall on one side and a long, comfortable leather couch on the other. A couple of armchairs, also of leather, completed the furniture. There were a few tasteful pictures hanging on the walls, and the mantelshelf was crowded with photographs in silver and blackwood frames. A telephone, books of reference, and various papers were on the desk, as well as a reading lamp with a heavy brown silk shade.
Cousins found the switch of the electric lights and turned them on, then crossing to the door he locked it.
‘Now may the gods grant that I am uninterrupted for an hour or so,’ he murmured. ‘Novar can’t return from his appointment till twelve at the earliest, and it’s only a quarter past ten now.’
He took off the overcoat he was wearing and placed it over the back of a chair. Then he sniffed.
‘H’m!’ he said. ‘There’s a smell of stale cigar smoke about, so there can’t be any harm in my adding to it.’
He took out a cigar and lit it.
‘Now for work!’ he said.
He drew a pair of thin rubber gloves from his pocket and put them on – Cousins was always thorough – and sitting down before the desk, proceeded to go carefully through the papers scattered before him. He read every one, and replaced them in exactly the same position in which they had been before he touched them. Every now and again he carefully shook his cigar ash into a pocket of his coat. None of the papers proved of any value to him, and he picked up three letters, which were lying unopened upon the desk, and examined them critically. Two of them were obviously business communications, and these he replaced; the third aroused his curiosity, and after a little thought he took a thin, razor-like instrument from his breast pocket, and carefully inserting it under the flap of the envelope, slid it along until the flap came open. He then withdrew the sheet of paper from the envelope and read it, Immediately a look of keen interest showed on his face.
‘Ah!’ he said. ‘This is more like it!’
He took a notebook from his pocket and copied every word of the letter, after which he put it back carefully into its envelope. Producing a tube of thin fish glue, he carefully spread some on the flap, and closed it again. When he had finished, the envelope had no appearance of having been touched. He placed it on the desk.
‘Now for the safe!’ he muttered.
After gazing at the solid-looking affair for a few minutes, he knelt down and commenced to turn the combination handle, listening with delicately attuned hearing to the sound of the tumbril. In a short while a smile creased its way across his face.
‘It’s easier than I expected,’ he murmured.
Ten minutes later he sat back on his heels with a sigh of satisfaction, and pulled open the door of the safe. Inside were bundles of papers, letters and documents of all sorts, as well as negotiable securities and bank notes for large sums of money, which showed that Novar was ready to fly at a moment’s notice, if necessary.
Cousins went through every document with meticulous care, and every now and again copied rapidly into his notebook something of interest to him. When he had examined the safe thoroughly, he selected two papers from the collection, and putting them in his pocket, replaced the rest as he had found them then carefully closing the door, he reset the combination, and rose to his feet. His cigar had long since gone out, and he had put it among the ashes in his coat pocket. Now he took out another, and lit it. He looked at his wristwatch.
‘Dash it!’ he said. ‘I have already been an hour and five minutes.’
Crossing quickly to the bookcase, he selected a book here and there, and examined them, then he tapped the woodwork gently in an effort to discover secret hiding places. He was unsuccessful, however, and at last after a careful look round to make sure that everything was as it had been left, he switched off the lights, and going to the window drew aside the curtains. He then felt his way to the desk, and picking up his overcoat, put it on. He drew off the rubber gloves, put them in his pocket and, damping his fingers, extinguished his cigar.
‘A pleasant evening’s amusement,’ he murmured, as he made his way to the door and, drawing back the curtains, gently unlocked and opened it.
For a few minutes he stood listening intently, but no sound disturbed the stillness, and he crept quietly along the passage towards the brilliantly lighted corridor.
Then suddenly there was the sound of a car drawing up outside, and he heard the voices of a man and woman and the creak of the wire doors, as they entered the house.
‘Dear! dear!’ muttered Cousins. ‘He has returned half an hour before he should have done. How awkward!’
He retreated to the study, and stood behind the curtains, listening. A small revolver had appeared in his hand. Apparently the man and woman had gone into the dining room or drawing room, for there was silence for some minutes, and Cousins was about to venture out of his hiding place when he heard a voice say distinctly, ‘I’ll go and get it,’ and the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps came from the corridor. Presently Novar appeared, and walked straight into the study, his body actually rubbing against the curtain behind which the secret agent crouched. The Russian, who was humming to himself, switched on the desk lamp, and crossing to the bookshelf selected a large volume, and carried it to the desk. It was apparently a work of reference, for he turned page after page before, finding what he wanted, he uttered an exclamation of satisfaction and replaced the book on the shelf.
Then returning to the desk, he was about to turn off the light, when he noticed the three letters lying there. He took up the one that Cousins had examined, and tore it open. As he read he ceased humming, and for some minutes afterwards stood tapping his foot on the floor like a man in deep thought.
During all this time Cousins remained where he was hidden by the curtain, hardly daring to breathe. He knew that if Novar turned in his direction the latter could not fail to notice him, and he held the revolver ready, while his teeth were tightly clenched and his eyes screwed up with the grimness of a man who recognises death to be hovering uncomfortably near.
At last, carefully putting the letter in the inside pocket of his dress-coat, Novar turned off the light and made his way past Cousins down the passage and disappeared. The little man chuckled to himself.
‘So near and yet so far,’ he murmured. ‘And now the sooner I am out of this place the better I shall be pleased.’
Without a sound he crept quietly into the corridor and, with his heart thumping against his ribs, moved slowly down towards the service passage, expecting every moment that Novar would emerge from the room again, and confront him. His luck, however, stood him in good stead, and he reached his destination and glided into comparative safety. The passage was now in darkness, but he felt that that was all to the good.
Before going farther he decided to try and catch a glimpse of the lady with Novar – no doubt his wife – so that he would know her at any future time. They were apparently in the drawing room, so cautiously Cousins stretched his head round the corner until he could see into the room. To his surprise there were two women with Novar. One, a prim middle-aged lady, wearing pince-nez, was apparently looking at a fashion book; the other, a fair-haired girl, had her back turned to him, and was examining something with Novar leaning over her shoulder. The latter made a remark, which made her look up at him with a laugh – Cousins caught a glimpse of her face and drew back into the passage with a gasp.
‘Would you believe it!’ he muttered. ‘The plot indeed thickens!’
He delayed no longer, but found his way towards the door. This time it was closed, but not bolted, and he pushed it gently open, and, going out, as gently closed it, and slid away into the darkness. Avoiding all light he made his way very cautiously towards the gates. On the way he very nearly walked into the chowkidar, who was sitting crouched up by a tree, with a lathi held in his hand. The man apparently heard him, for he stood up, and peered round him as though trying to discover what the darkness held. But with a stealth that would have done credit to a Red Indian, Cousins crept away and reached the gates. Here he took off the socks, and waiting until he was absolutely sure there was nobody watching outside the house, he turned into the Mall, and strode away towards Crescent Road.
There was still an adventure before him, however, for he had hardly entered the drive leading to Shannon’s bungalow, when he became aware of two shadows that dived into the undergrowth at his approach.
‘Watchers of the night!’ he murmured, and continued on his way, with his eyes cast warily in the direction in which the shadows had disappeared.
Suddenly two forms silently sprang upon him. He heard the hiss of a knife and felt the ripping of cloth accompanied by a burning sensation in his left arm. He had been ready, however, and at the identical moment that his assailants attacked him, he skipped aside and fired. There was a yell of agony, one of the shadows staggered, but appeared to recover, and the two darted away into the darkness and disappeared. Almost immediately the sound of running footsteps could be heard coming from the direction of the bungalow. Cousins stood where he was, and his face started to crease into a broad grin.
‘A most interesting evening on the whole,’ he chuckled aloud.
He was presently joined by the two runners, who – as he had guessed – were Shannon and Miles.
‘What has happened?’ asked the former, when he discovered Cousins standing in the path.
‘I think our friends have decided that I am becoming a nuisance,’ replied the little man. ‘I was attacked by two – er – shadows.’
‘Are you hurt?’ inquired Miles anxiously.
‘No, I don’t think so, at least not much. I am afraid though, that Messrs. Rahtz, Novar and Company owe me a new coat.’