The Beautiful White Devil

"Because I wanted to find out how he was in the habit of talking about me. That was why."

"But do you think he was really in earnest? May it not have been only a mask to prevent anyone from suspecting that he is your agent in this place?"

"No. He meant it. Of that there can be no doubt. The man, I can see, for some inscrutable reason hates the real me with his whole heart and soul, and the treachery he is preparing now is to be his revenge. Couldn't you hear the change, the grating, in his voice when my name occurred? Ah, Mr. Ebbington, my clever man, you will find that it is a very foolish policy on your part to quarrel with me."

"When do you mean to make the attempt to capture him?"

"On Friday evening; that is the day after to-morrow. The new admiral will be here on Saturday morning at latest, and I must anticipate him, for I have learned that Ebbington received a note from the authorities this morning, definitely fixing the hour for the interview at eleven o'clock. He need make no arrangements, however, for he won't be there!"

"It will be an awful moment for him when he realises who you are. I would not be in his shoes for all the gold of India."

"You would never have acted as he has done," she answered softly, turning her head away.

This was the opportunity for finding out what she intended concerning myself, so I drew a little closer to her.

"Alie," I said, "the time has now come for me to ask you when you wish to say 'good-bye' to me. I have done my professional work for you, and on Friday I shall have assisted you to the very best of my ability in the matter of this wretched fellow. What am I to do then? Am I to say farewell to you here, or what?"

Her voice had almost a falter in it as she replied:

"Oh, no! we will not say 'good-bye' here. Cannot you return with me? I have been counting so much on that." Here she paused for a moment. "But no! Perhaps I ought not to ask you – you have your work in life, and, seeing what you have already done for us, I should be the last to keep you from the path of duty."

"If you wish me to come back with you, Alie," I answered quickly, "I will come with a glad heart. I have no duty to consider, and as I have given up my practice, I have no patients to give me any concern. But how shall I get back to England later on?"

"I will arrange that you shall be sent down to Torres Straits, and you can go home via Australia, if that will suit you. Never fear, I will attend to that part of it when it becomes necessary."

"Then I will go with you."

"I thank you. Good-night!"

I bade her good-night, and she left me to go to her room. As, however, I was in no humour for sleeping myself, I stayed in the verandah, looking down the quaint lamp-lit street, along which only an occasional belated foot passenger, a Sikh policeman or two, and a few tired rickshaw coolies wended their way. I was thinking of the strangeness of my position. When I came to work it out, and to review the whole chain of events dispassionately, it seemed almost incredible. I could hardly believe that George De Normanville the staid medical man, and George De Normanville the lover of the Beautiful White Devil, and assistant in a scheme for abducting one of Singapore's most prominent citizens, were one and the same person. However, I was thoroughly content; Alie loved me, and I wanted nothing more.

Next morning, after breakfast, I discovered that Miss Sanderson and her companion were setting off for a day's pleasuring, and that Mr. Ebbington was to be their sole conductor and escort. It was noticeable that he had donned a new suit of clothes in honour of the occasion, and I saw that he wore a sprig of japonica in his buttonhole. From his expression I concluded that he was very well satisfied with himself, but whether he would have been quite so confident had he known who his fair friends really were was quite another matter, and one upon which I could only conjecture.

They returned in time for tiffin, and during the meal Ebbington confided to me the fact that the heiress had been most gracious to him. From what he said I gathered that, unless somebody else interfered and spoiled sport, he felt pretty confident of ultimately securing her.

"Take care your friend the Beautiful White Devil, or whatever you call her, doesn't get jealous," I said with a laugh, wishing to get him on to delicate ground in order to see how quickly he would wriggle off it again.

"Don't mention them in the same breath, for goodness' sake," he answered. "Miss Sanderson and that woman – Why, man alive, they're not to be compared!"

"Ah!" I thought to myself, "if you only knew, my friend, if you only knew!"

"Don't you wish you were in my place?" he said with a smile, as he rose to go.

"No; if you wish me to be candid," I answered, "I cannot say that I do."

He thereupon left me and went out into the verandah. We spent the afternoon with the ladies in the garden, and at their request remained to take tea with them. During this al fresco meal, which was presided over by Miss Sanderson herself, my companion stated that it was his desire to arrange something a little out of the common for the ladies' amusement.

"What shall it be?" he asked, with the magnificence of an Oriental potentate to whom all things are possible. "A picnic? But that is not much fun here. A dance? But it's too hot for that. What would you like?"

Alie seemed to reflect for a few moments, and then she said, with an appearance of animation:

"Do you really want to give us a treat, Mr. Ebbington? Then I reckon the nicest thing you can possibly do, on these hot nights, would be to take us for a trip on the water. I know Mrs. Beecher thinks so too. Now, you just get us a launch and trot us round. I guess that'll be real delightful."

She clapped her hands and appeared to be so pleased with the idea that, whatever he may himself have thought of it, there was nothing for Ebbington to do but to assent.

"We'll take some supper," she continued, as if a new idea had struck her, "and you gentlemen shall bring your cigars, and we'll spend a delightful evening. I'm fonder of the sea than you can think. But I do just wish you could see New York Harbour. You should see Newport, too, where my papa's got a cottage. It's real fine."

After dinner that evening Ebbington reported that he had engaged a steam launch, and also that he had ordered the supper. Thereupon, to encourage him, Miss Sanderson professed herself to be looking forward to the trip more than she had ever done to anything else in her life.

Accordingly next evening, immediately after dinner, we saw that our charges were carefully wrapped up, chartered rickshaws, and set off for the harbour. It was a lovely night, with a young moon just showing like a silver sickle above the roofs. We were all in the highest spirits, although, I must confess, my own were not unmixed with a slight dash of nervousness as to what the upshot of our excursion would be.

Arriving at the harbour side, we found the launch in waiting. She was a smart, serviceable little craft, manned by two native sailors and an engineer. We descended the wharf steps in single file, and, as I was nearest to her, I stepped on board and gave Alie my hand to assist her to embark. She squeezed it gently, by way of wishing me good luck of our enterprise, sprang aboard, and when we had taken our places aft the order was given and we pushed off.

The harbour was densely crowded with craft of all nationalities and descriptions, and in and out among them we threaded our way, now dodging under the bows of a Messageries Maritime mail boat, now under the stern of a P. and O. steamer, or a Norwegian timber boat, between native praus and dingy ocean tramps, steam launches, and small fry generally, and finally out into the open sea.

Inside the water was as smooth as a mill pond, but when we left the shelter of the high land and passed outside, the complexion of affairs was somewhat altered. But as our party were all good sailors, the tumbling and tossing we endured hardly mattered. For over an hour we steamed up and down, and then, pausing in the shelter of the harbour again, cast about us for a suitable spot to have our supper.

I had noticed all through the evening, and, for the matter of that, throughout the day, that Ebbington's manner towards Alie was every moment growing more unpleasantly familiar. By the time he had completed his first bottle of champagne at supper, it was about as much as I could stand; indeed, twice he called her by her assumed Christian name, and once he tried to take her hand. Remembering, however, what would follow later, I kept a tight rein upon myself, and did not allow any expression of my feelings to escape me.

"After all, give me American girls," our hero was saying, with an insolent freedom for which I could have kicked him, as he lit his cigar. "There's none of that stand-offishness about them that there is with our English women. You can say more to them without their being offended and wanting to call their fathers in to you."

"You mean, perhaps, that we are more good-natured," said Alie. "I'm afraid, however, we're sometimes unwise enough to permit people to become familiar on a three days' acquaintance, and that's a very foolish thing."

"Oh, come now, Miss Sanderson," said our host, uncorking another bottle of champagne, filling up Alie's glass, and then helping himself liberally. "I think that's a little severe, isn't it? One thing I know, though, you don't mean it, do you?"

"I am not so certain of that," she replied. "It's just possible that I may be compelled to do so. But let us talk of something else. What a lovely night it is, isn't it? I think this harbour's just delightful by moonlight. Say, Mr. Ebbington, couldn't we come on to-morrow morning for a while, about eleven o'clock. Just to oblige me, don't you think you could manage it?"

Knowing that eleven was the hour at which he was to see the admiral, I waited to hear what answer he would make. It was easy to see that he was a little nonplussed, for he expressed his sorrow that, through an important business engagement, he would be quite unable to comply with her request, and for some time sat in sulky silence. Just as he was going to speak again, however, we descried a boat pulling across towards us from the wharves on the other side. As it approached the shore Alie signed to me, and, divining her intention, I went down to inquire its errand. The boat having grounded, a native waded ashore, and handed me a large packet and a letter, which I immediately conveyed to Alie. She took it, and then turning to Ebbington, who had been surveying the scene with no small astonishment, said:

"I'm afraid, Mr. Ebbington, this means some business which will necessitate our going back to the hotel at once. Do you mind so very much?"

"Not at all," he answered promptly; then, as if he thought he might turn it to account, continued, "You know that my only ambition is to serve you."

Disregarding this polite speech, which was uttered with a leer that made my fingers itch to be alongside his head, Alie led the way up the plank and on board the launch again. We pushed off from the shore and began to steam ahead. Then Alie nodded to me, and I tapped the engineer on the shoulder and signified that he should stop. He looked surprised, but obeyed. Ebbington, however, did not like this interference on my part, and sprang to his feet.

"Why did you tell that man to stop?" he cried, angrily. "I'll trouble you to remember that I'm – "

"And I'll just trouble you to sit down where you are and hold your tongue, Mr. Ebbington," said Alie, dropping her American accent altogether, and drawing a revolver from beneath her cloak. "The game is over as far as you are concerned, so you may as well submit with as good a grace as possible."

"What does this mean, Miss Sanderson?" he cried excitedly.

"Sit down there, as I tell you," she answered, "and don't make any noise, or you'll get into trouble. I shall answer no questions, but if you attempt to move I promise you I'll shoot you there and then."

He said no more, but sat between us trembling like the arrant coward he was. Alie went forward to the engineer and said something in Malay; then, after a moment's conversation with one of the crew, she returned aft, took the tiller, and steered for the open sea. The little craft fumed and fussed on her way for an hour or so, tossing the foam off either bow, and covering the distance in first-rate style.

Suddenly the look-out, posted forrard, uttered a cry, and next moment we saw ahead of us a green light. It was obscured and revealed three times. This, I knew, was the yacht's signal, and in less than a quarter of an hour we were alongside, had hitched on, and were safely aboard. The launch's crew were then suitably rewarded and sent back to Singapore.

As we reached the deck Ebbington must have read the yacht's name on a life-buoy, and realised into whose hands he had fallen. For a moment he stood rooted to the spot, then he staggered a pace forward, clutched at a stay, and, missing it, fell upon the deck in a dead faint. As I stooped to see what was the matter with him I felt the tremor of the screw. Our errand was accomplished. Singapore was a thing of the past. We were on our way back to the island once more.