"You shall know in good time," he answered drily. Then he added:
"Do you mind if I have a few words with Nur-el-Din before I go!"The unexpected question caught Desmond off his guard.
"Nur-el-Din?" he stammered feebly.
"She is staying with you, I believe," said Mortimer pleasantly.
Desmond shook his head.
"There must be some mistake," he averred stoutly, "of course Iknow who you mean, but I have never met the lady. She is not here. What led you to suppose she was?"But even as he spoke, his eyes fell on a black object which lay near his arm stretched out along the back of the settee. It was a little velvet hat, skewered to the upholstery of the settee by a couple of jewelled hat-pins. A couple of gaudy cushions lay between it and Mortimer's range of vision from the chair in which the latter was sitting. If only Mortimer had not spotted it already!
Desmond's presence of mind did not desert him. On the pretext of settling himself more comfortably he edged up another cushion until it rested upon the other two, thus effectively screening the hat from Mortimer's view even when he should get up.
"I wish she were here," Desmond added, smiling, "one could not have a more delightful companion to share one's solitude, Iimagine."
"The lady has disappeared from London under rather suspicious circumstances;" Mortimer said, letting his grotesque eyes rest for a moment on Desmond's face, "to be quite frank with you, my dear fellow, she has been indiscreet, and the police are after her.""You don't say!" cried Desmond.
"Indeed, it is a fact," replied the other, "I wish she would take you as her model, my dear Bellward. You are the pattern of prudence, are you not?"He paused perceptibly and Desmond held his breath.
"She has very few reputable friends," Mortimer continued presently, "under a cloud as she is, she could hardly frequent the company of her old associates, Mowbury and Lazarro and Mrs.
Malplaquet, you doubtless know whom I mean. I know she has a very strong recommendation to you, so I naturally thought--well, no matter!"He rose and extended his hand.
"Au revoir, Bellward," he said, "you shall hear from me very soon. You've got a snug little place here, I must say, and everything in charming taste. I like your pretty cushions."The blood flew to Desmond's face and he bent down, on pretense of examining the cushions, to hide his confusion.
"They aren't bad," he said, "I got them at Harrod's!"He accompanied Mortimer to the front door and watched him disappear down the short drive and turn out of the gate into the road. Then feeling strangely ill at ease, he went back to join Nur-el-Din in the dining-room. But only the housekeeper was there, clearing the table.
"If you're looking for the young lady, sir," said old Martha, "she's gone out!""Oh!" said Desmond, with a shade of disappointment in his voice, "will she be back for tea?""She's not coming back at all," answered the old woman, "she told me to tell you she could not stop, sir. And she wouldn't let me disturb you, neither, sir.""But did she leave no note or anything for me?" asked Desmond.
"No, sir," answered old Martha as she folded up the cloth.
Gone! Desmond stared gloomily out at the sopping garden with an uneasy feeling that he had failed in his duty.
