H. Bedford-Jones

“ Hajji Ishak, however, laughed and came to meet him, hand on sword-hilt. For all his seeming boldness, Brundage was playing no role of folly; true, desperation spurred him, yet he was neglecting no straw at which he might have to snatch. So, when he halted, he had picked the spot carefully.
"By Allah, infidel, we are well met!" said the swaggering Hazrami in Arabic. "Go and get the woman, and come back with us."
"Who am I, to bandy words with such as you?" said Brundage. Hajji Ishak came close, grinned, and tapped him on the arm. ”

“ Presently Vanderhout stirred, heaved his bulk, lifted himself. He swung his chair around slightly until he met the amused gaze of Brundage, who held a pistol negligently. The face of Vanderhout slowly paled and became ashen.
"Better you than me," said Brundage mockingly. "Those who would fight must take the consequences. I would be delighted to shoot you, Vanderhout; instead, I'll ask you to smoke this cheroot. If it's not doped with your infernal native herbs, you get off lightly. If it is, then you'll be out of the way for two or three days—out of harm's way, I should say! ”

“ The other men were the ones who mattered. Hence Brundage knew exactly what he was going to do and say.
So, though it was evening, he was taken from the gates to the palace itself by an officer, a strutting, dish-faced little monkey-man, and at the palace was ushered on to the billiard room. The sultan was there, playing billiards with the ponderous Vanderhout, while Hajji Ishak sat in the corner and told the beads of his rosary. As Brundage entered, the sultan put down his cue and advanced with well-assumed cordiality, hand outstretched. Ibrahim liked to play at hail-fellow-well-met. ”

“ Real life is far from having the stuff of books, and hasty conclusions are dangerous. Brundage was past forty, and had every earthly reason not to mix up in this affair. He had sent home his money, and now looked forward to its enjoyment. The calm eyes of Marjorie Hampton wakened no amorous fires in him—his wife and children awaited him in San Francisco, and Brundage was no philanderer. ”

“ Brundage was in no hurry; he put his cigaret into an ash-tray, picked up one of the cheroots. Vanderhout sighed, roused himself, struck a match and held it out to Brundage, then lighted his own long, whitish cheroot from the same match.
"I've taken thought," he said reflectively, puffing out great clouds of tobacco as he spoke. "I do not think it would be wise for me to become at all active in this matter. I am a selfish old man, and I like comfort—I do not pretend to any altruistic motives, you see! ”

“ A quiet little smile, and pretty indeed to see, yet touching her face alone—not her eyes. By contrast, they seemed more deep and baffling than ever, in their perfect poise. Brundage noted that she sat in her chair absolutely without movement, and this backed up the warning of her eyes. No ordinary girl here.
"Don't you know it's a damned trap?" he blurted out, feeling a surge of passionate fury sweep from soul to brain. "That cursed sultan doesn't want any governess. What he wants is a white woman—another. You're not the first. You've got to realize facts, girl." ”

“ Another horse plunged out, men came shouting and running, syces yelled wild oaths. Brundage was caught in a swirl of figures and carried along into a corner, jammed there by a rush of the maddened stallion. A man went down under the flying hooves, and another.
Thinking this some trap, every sense on the alert, Brundage watched for a glint of steel, but none came. The hillmen were thinking only of the white stallion. ”

“ He was taken back to his first meeting with her in Port Santur—the girl was like a stone wall. "They planned it this way, so the beasts would give out after a few miles. When we don't come back, they'll pursue us. We'll hardly reach that spring, afoot, before they'll be up with us! You can't be in earnest about this."
"But I am," she said. "Quite in earnest."
There was an instant of silence, as her words sank in, and Brundage faced the hard fact of the situation. Then he mastered himself. ”

“ You are an idealist, but I'm an old fool, and I know better. I can tell you this girl can feather her nest well, and means to do it. She hinted to Hoffman the other day that she meant to get a good round sum out of Ibrahim, and might want his help."
Brundage said nothing. He rather believed Vanderhout told the truth here.
"Well," went on the Dutchman, "Ibrahim will settle fifty thousand guilders on her, and some very good jewels. What more can any one ask? If I were you, I'd not venture a thankless interference. Will you accept the advice from an old man who likes you?" ”

“ Brundage lighted a cigaret and waited. Vanderhout opened the ginger beer, filled a shaker with ice and squareface and the gingery drink, and grinned widely as he shook it up.
"Hoffman has gone for a ride alone,' he observed. "He will come home a little richer; he usually does. Now, what good can money do except to provide comfort? I do not like these hoarders, who save against the morrow. It is much better to enjoy today, before we die!"
He poured the drinks, preened his little mustache, lifted his glass. Brundage sipped the beverage, still silent. Vanderhout chuckled. ”

“ Brundage was not prepared for the table-talk at dinner that night, however. It concerned a Miss Simkins, who had come as a governess the preceding year. Vanderhout and Hoffman reminisced about her most feelingly; she had died, apparently of fever and homesickness. Behind the thin smile of Hoffman and the chuckle of Vanderhout could be read many unclean things, but Brundage gave no sign that he discerned the attack leveled at him. He was not to be flung off balance so easily, nor would he come down to innuendoes; anything said would have to be flat-footed and open. ”

“ Brundage rapped out an oath. "Like that better?" he said harshly. "Suppose I'm going to sit down and count coat-buttons like they do in Singapore, while you're gone? Not much. Five buttons—that's a Dutchman. Four buttons and the pants a fit—that's a Britisher. Fine game! But I'm not playing it. You—you woman, you!" The word was bitter. "A woman, flitter-headed as a chicken, no more sense than a silly old hen, always jumping the wrong way—damnation! Go on over the hill, then, and take the consequences." ”

“ When the heart of an impetuous man is hot within him, he has regard for nothing. Brundage had little regard for anything at the best of times, but now he went straight to Hop Soy's hotel and straight up to the one room over the court reserved for the occasional white person who came to Port Santur. He knew his way and paused for none. He rapped sharply at the door, tried it, found it unlocked, and stepped into the room. The girl was there, leaning over a grip she had half unpacked. ”

“ And more than all, the fact of Onderdonk being ahead of them in Port Santur, perhaps on his way over the hill this moment!
"You're a fool," he told himself savagely, "to let the loss of a gun knock you out! What good is a pistol, anyhow? Not a bit. It's all in the man holding it. Brace up!"
Just as the palace and town were drowned from sight by the green foliage all around a figure appeared in the road ahead, abruptly leaving the shelter of the trees. A glance showed Brundage that it was a Chinaman, awaiting them. With a word to the girl, he passed on ahead of her, and drew rein. ”

“ Vanderhout, in reality a very clever man, waited after Hoffman went to arrange a bridge game with the sultan. He lighted a cigaret and his little pig eyes rested on Brundage.
"Mynheer," he said thoughtfully, "I have always been fond of you. I think we can speak plainly without losing our tempers."
"I can," and Brundage smiled a little. "Can you?"
"Perhaps," Vanderhout puffed at his cigaret. "That girl, now. I happen to know she was warned at Singapore by some Englishman; he wrote Hoffman about it afterward. She knew what she would find here. ”

“ The smaller man met the deep questioning of Brundage's gaze, and shrugged.
"Go your way, and don't be a fool any more," he said. "You may well wonder! Well, when she looked into my eyes and asked me to help—it changed everything. It always changes everything, even for a man like me."
"If," said Brundage heavily, "the man at bottom-a man."
Onderdonk flashed him a smile at thi and then helped him into the saddle, an turned to Marjorie Hampton. She put out her hand to him, in silence, but her face wa eloquent. Onderdonk reddened, then pale and bent his lips to her fingers. ”

“ He may not have even a future but he has life. Having only this one thing, he values it above all else. Whoever interferes with him, therefore, finds a desperate and reckless antagonist."
Brundage knew who was meant here. He had not considered Onderdonk any too seriously, but now he took thought, since he had a high respect for the opinions of Hang La. If this man were named as the most dangerous in the palace, then it was fact. Onderdonk, however, was away in the hills, doubtless inspecting some mining properties, since his share in the government was that of economics. ”

“ Brundage smiled. "No brooks. However, there's a spring on the hill road, and we'll get to it in a couple of hours if we push on. With the horses, we'll make Port Santur long before dark, and all's well. They'll not dare touch us there. Too open."
So they rode on through the hot morning, and presently came to the empty hill road that wound, dipping, then left jungle behind and mounted through the upper reaches of the forest. And, as they turned into it, Brundage realized that his horse was limping. ”

“ IT CAME to Brundage that she was a bit off in her head. A hard thing to accept. Doubly hard, because under these wandering words he sensed a solid stratum of common sense, which reduces everything to simple essentials. Simplicity is a very clear and very terrible thing in any part of the world, but chiefly so in Sumatra—where it is apt to be helpless as well, if one can ever call simplicity helpless. ”

“ He would not breathe easily until he had Marjorie Hampton in the saddle and at his side, for it was entirely possible she might be prevented from leaving her rooms.
So he dared not risk any outbreak, but tightened the girths himself, adjusted the stirrups, and nodded to a syce to lead out the horses. The syce obeyed. At the same instant, a sudden commotion arose—a horse came plunging and kicking from his stall with a shrill scream of terror or pain, a white stallion whose hooves were lashing out. ”

“ Onderdonk—can she dream of trusting to him for help, as she was about to trust Hoffman? Perhaps. He wasn't there last year, had no connection with that ugly business of the Simkins woman—"
He paused, as a tall white shape slipped across the sunlight to one side and vanished again. Hajji Ishak going about some errand, wearing the curved scimitar that girded him when he was in attendance on the sultan.
Brundage stared after the lean shape, and frowned. After all, what was certain in this unreal nook of the world among the hills? One could not plan, one could count on nothing. ”

“ He rose and lighted a cigaret, his last one.
"Make yourself comfortable until I get back," he said. "I'll have a look to make sure no one's coming after us. Then we'll be off. Down-hill the rest of the way." He strode away, and in two minutes the spring and the figure of Marjorie Hampton were shut from sight. It was no more than a desire to make certainty certain that led Brundage on the back trail. Since Hajji Ishak had not arrived by this time, he was probably not coming at all—fears were vain, anxiety were folly! None the less, one look back on the trail below would make sure. ”

“ But now I wouldn't know what to do, without you, unless I went to the hotel in Port Santur and waited for the boat."
A hard smile touched the lips of Brundage.
"Of course. They don't know about the junk coming tomorrow night—wouldn't connect us with it in any case! As it stands now, the affair is simple enough, from their view-point. Hoffman will be the first to act; must protect himself. The sultan depends wholly upon him, too, like a child, and won't take any initiative with Hoffman standing by. That's what worries me." ”

“ He was that rarest of all human creatures, a man who believed in nothing and who therefore feared nothing. His sole enjoyment was to drown the inward agonies of his own soul in the suffering of others.
THESE three greeted Marjorie Hamp- ton. Vanderhout bowed, Hoffman gravely kissed her hand, Onderdonk merely removed his helmet a moment and looked at her with his sardonic eyes. A few commonplace words were exchanged, then came Hajji Ishak to take charge of the girl, with a deep and stately salaam and a greeting in fluent French, and four women attendants whom he placed at her disposal. ”