It was the worst kind of news - a summons to Washington for conference. Which signified that the Government's plans were completed and that shortly he would be on his way to Piraeus.
A fine muddle! Hawksley in no condition to send upon his way;
Kitty's affair unsettled; the emeralds still in camera obscura;
Karlov at liberty with his infernal schemes, and Stefani Gregor his prisoner. Wild horses, pulling him two ways. A word, and Karlov would come to the end of his rope suddenly. But if he issued that word the whole fabric he had erected so painstakingly would blow away like cardboard. If those emeralds turned up in the possession of any man but himself the ensuing complications would be appalling. For he himself would be forced to tell what he knew about the stones: Hawksley would be thrust conspicuously into the limelight, and sooner or later some wild anarch would kill him. Known, Hawksley would not have one chance in a thousand. Kitty would be dragged into the light and harassed and his own attitude toward her misunderstood. All these things, if he acted upon his oath. Nevertheless, he determined to risk suspension of operations until he returned from Washington. There was one sound plank to cling to. He had first-hand information that anarchistic elements would remain in their noisome cellars until May first. If he were not ordered abroad until after that, no harm would follow his suspension of operations.
"Bad news?" asked Kitty, anxiously.
"Aggravating rather than bad. I am called to Washington. May be gone four or five days. Official business. Leaves things here a bit in the air."
"I'll stay as long as you need me," said Miss Frances.
"I'd rather a man now. You've been a brick. You need rest. I've a chap in mind. He'll make our friend here toe the mark. A physical instructor, ex-pugilist; knows all about broken heads."
"I say, that's ripping!" cried Hawksley. "Give me your man, and I'll be off your hands within a week. The sooner you stop fussing over me the sooner the crack in my head will cease to bother me.
"Kuroki will cook for you and Ryan will put you through the necessary stunts. The roof, when the weather permits, makes a good exercising ground. If you'll excuse me I'll do some telephoning. Kuroki, pack my bag for a five-day trip to Washington. I'll take you down to the office, Kitty."
"I don't fancy I ever will quite understand you," said Hawksley, leaning back in his chair, listlessly. "Honestly, now, you'd be perfectly justified in bundling me off to some hotel. I have funds.
Why all this pother about me?"
Cutty smiled. "When I tackle anything I like to carry it through.
I want to put you on your train."
"To be reasonably sure that I shan't come back?"
"Precisely" - but without smiling. With a vague yet inclusive nod Cutty hurried off.
"It is because he is such a thorough sportsman. Mr. Hawksley," Kitty explained. "Having accepted certain obligations he cannot abrogate them off. hand."
"Did I bother you last night? I mean, did my fiddling?"
"Mercy, no! From the hurdy-gurdy of my childhood, down to Kubelik and his successors, I have been more or less music-mad. You play - wonderfully!" Sudden, inexplicable shyness.
Hawksley smiled. An hour or two with that old Amati.
"I am only an unconventional amateur. You should hear Stefani Gregor when the mood is on. He puts something into your soul that makes you wish to go forth at once to do some fine, unselfish act."
Stefani Gregor! He thought of the clear white soul of the man who had surrendered imperishable fame to stand between him and the curse of his blood; who had for ten years stood between his mother and the dissolute man whom irony had selected for the part of father.
Ten years of diplomacy, tact, patience. Stefani Gregor! There was the blood, predatory and untamed; and there was the spirit which the old musician had moulded. He could not harm this girl. Dead or alive, Stefani Gregor would not permit it.
Hawksley rose slowly and without further speech walked to the corridor door. He leaned against the jamb for a moment, then went on to his bedroom.
"I'm afraid that breakfast was too much for him," the nurse ventured.
"An odd young man."
"Very," replied Kitty, rather absently. She was trying to analyze that flash of shyness.
Meantime, Cutty sat down before the telephone. He wanted Kitty out of town during his absence. In her present excitable mood he was afraid to trust her. She might surrender to any mad impulse that stirred her fancy. So he called up Burlingame. Kitty's chief, and together they manufactured an assignment that was always a pleasant recollection to Kitty.
Next, Cutty summoned Professor Billy Ryan to the wire, argued and cajoled for ten minutes, and won his point. He was always dealing in futures - banking his favours here and there and drawing checks against them when needed.
Then he tackled his men and issued orders suspending operations temporarily. He was asked what they should do in case Karlov came out into the open. He answered in such an event not to molest him but to watch and take note of those with whom he associated. There were big things in the air, and only he himself had hold of all the threads. He relayed this information to the actual chief of the local service, from whom he had borrowed his men. There was no protest. Green spectacles.
Quarter to nine he and Kitty entered a subway car and found a corner to themselves, while Karlov's agent was content with a strap in the crowded end of the car.
Karlov for once had outthought Cutty. He had withdrawn his watchers, confident that after a day or so his unknown opponent would withdraw his. During the lull Karlov matured his plans, then resumed operations, calculating that he would have some forty-odd hours' leeway.
