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Updated: June 14, 2025
Labertouche would undoubtedly contrive to meet and enlighten him, either on the way or in Benares itself. In the long, tiresome, eventless journey that followed his faith was sorely tried; nor was it justified until the train paused some time after midnight at Mogul Serai.
The Virginian sat up, crying out as weakly as a child: "Labertouche!" A voice said: "Thank God!" He felt strong hands lift him to his feet. He clung to him who had helped him, swaying like a drunkard, wits a-swirl in the brain thus roughly awakened from semi-hypnosis. "Here," said Labertouche's voice, "take my hand and follow. We're in for it now!"
So far the latter had been treading known ground, but a little later, when Pink Satin dived abruptly into a darksome alleyway to the right, drawing Amber after him as a child drags a toy on a string, the Virginian lost his bearings utterly and was thereafter helplessly dependent upon the flutter of Pink Satin, and unworried only so long as he could see him, in a fidget of anxiety whenever the labyrinth shut Labertouche from his sight for a moment or two.
His eyes met the girl's, and in hers he read trust and faith unending: he was conscious of a curious fluttering in his bosom. "Trust you!" she said, with a little, broken laugh, and gave herself freely to his arms. Labertouche grunted and turned his back, wading out into the stream with a great splashing. Amber straightened up, holding her very close to him, and that with ease.
Amber paused to listen for sounds of pursuit, but hearing nothing save the subdued sigh of the draught between the straitened walls of rock, followed until the walls fell away and his hands, outstretched, failed to touch them, and he was aware that the stone beneath his feet had given way to gravel. He halted, calling guardedly to Labertouche. The secret-agent's voice came from some distance.
While as for the babu, he had dropped back into the chair and given way to a rude but reassuring paroxysm of gusty, silent laughter. "I'm a fool," said Amber; "and if I'm not mistaken you're Labertouche." With a struggle the babu overcame his emotion. "I am, my dear fellow, I am," he gasped. "And I owe you an apology.
Three years ago I found time to make a pretty thorough exploration of Kathiapur, and, being blessed with an excellent memory, I shall be quite at home." Amber made a gesture of surrender. "Of course you're right," he said. "You're always right, confound you!" "Exactly," agreed Labertouche, smiling. "I'm only here to help you escape to the Residency.
Labertouche puffed his cigar into a glow and leaned back, clasping one knee with two brown hands and squinting up at the low, discoloured ceiling.
He faced her with a hang-dog air, feeling that now indeed had his case been made hopeless by this contretemps. "Confound Labertouche!" he cried in his ungrateful heart. "Confound his meddling mystery-mongering and hokus-pokus!" "Well?" enquired the girl sharply. "Yes, Miss Farrell." He could invent nothing else to say. "You you are going to explain, I presume." He shook his head in despair.
"Thank you," returned Amber, controlling himself sufficiently to wait until he should be conducted to his room before opening the note. It was not, he observed later, superscribed in a feminine hand. Could it be from Quain's friend Labertouche? Who else?... Amber lifted his shoulders resignedly. "I wish Quain had minded his own business," he said ungratefully; "I can take care of myself.
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