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"He he has had a long day and to-night he was tired and when you are tired Oh, as a rule he's different." And to her relief she heard Ballantyne's voice outside the tent. "Thresk! Thresk!" She came forward and held out her hand. "There! Your camel's ready," she said. "You must go! Goodbye," and as he took it the old friendliness transfigured her face. "You are a great man now. I read of you.
He turned to Baram Singh. "The camel, quick!" Baram Singh went out to the enclosure within the little village of tents and Thresk asked curiously: "Do you distrust him?" Ballantyne looked steadily at his visitor and said: "I don't answer such questions. But I'll tell you something. If that man were dying he would ask for leave.
They rode through the little town, past the inn where Thresk was staying and the iron gates of a Park where, amidst elm-trees, the blackened ruins of a great house gaped to the sky. "Some day you will live there again," said Thresk, and Stella's lips twitched with a smile of humour.
"It was not, I take it, in order to put those questions to me that you were kind enough, Mr. Hazlewood, to ask me to give my opinion on your miniatures. For that would have been setting a trap for me, wouldn't it?" Hazlewood stared at Thresk with the bland innocence of a child. "Oh no, no," he declared, and then an insinuating smile beamed upon his long thin face.
Oh, if you should play her false how I should hate you!" and her eyes flashed fire at him. "I don't think that you need fear that." But he was too calm for her, too quiet. She was in the mood to want heroics. She clamoured for protestations as a drug for her uneasy mind. And Thresk stood before her without one. She searched his face with doubtful eyes. Oh, there seemed to her no tenderness in it.
"To be sure." "And since your son is engaged to Mrs. Ballantyne, I suppose that you were satisfied with it" and he paused to give a trifle of significance to his next words "as the jury was." "Yes, of course," Mr. Hazlewood stammered, "but a witness, I think, only answers the questions put to him." "That is so," said Thresk, "if he is a wise witness."
But I am not satisfied. That is the truth, Mr. Thresk. I am not sure of what happened in that tent in far-away Chitipur after you had ridden away to catch the night mail to Bombay." Robert Pettifer had made his confession simply and with some dignity. Thresk looked at him for a few moments. Was he wondering whether he could answer the questions?
And while Baram Singh still stood waiting for orders in the doorway of the tent Ballantyne walked round the table, took up the portrait very deliberately and handed it to Thresk. "Thank you," he said. "Button it in your coat pocket." He waited while Thresk obeyed. "Thus," said Thresk with a laugh, "did the Rajah of Bakutu," and Ballantyne replied with a grin. "Thank you for mentioning that name."
All was not as yet quite ready for the little trick which had been devised. The Pettifers had not arrived. "Perhaps you would like to see your room, Mr. Thresk," he said. "Your bag has been taken up, no doubt. We will look at my miniatures after tea." "I shall be delighted," said Thresk as he followed Hazlewood to the door. "But you must not expect too much knowledge from me."
There's this man, young Hazlewood. I can't forget him. You will be marrying him by the help of a lie I told." "He loves me," she cried. "Then he can bear the truth," answered Thresk. He pulled up a chair opposite to that in which Stella sat. "I want you to understand me, if you will. I don't want you to think me harsh or cruel. I told a lie upon my oath in the witness-box.
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