The Beautiful White Devil

CHAPTER VIII

A QUEER SURPRISE

Within a week of our leaving the island behind us, as narrated in the previous chapter, we had brought the Madura coast well abeam, and were dodging along it waiting for darkness to fall in order to get into Probolingo Harbour. Here it was arranged I should leave the yacht and travel by the Nederlands-India line of steamers to Batavia. A vessel of this line, so we had discovered, called at Probolingo about the end of each month, and for this reason our arrival was timed for the afternoon of the day of her departure.

Shortly before three o'clock we brought up at the anchorage, about a mile from the shore. It was a lovely afternoon, and I could see that the steamer, which was to carry me on, was already preparing for her departure. The boat was alongside, my traps were safely stowed in her, and nothing remained but to bid Alie good-bye. As soon as this was accomplished I went down the gangway, took my seat in the stern, and we pushed off. Ten minutes later I was on board the steamer Van Tromp, had paid my passage-money, secured my berth, and was waiting to see what the next item of the programme would be.

From the deck of the Dutch vessel, as she swept by us under full sail, her course set for Batavia, the Lone Star looked as pretty a craft as any man could wish to see. I noticed, however, that during the three months she had been in her own harbour her colour, and indeed her whole appearance, had been entirely changed. When first I had made her acquaintance she was white as the driven snow; now she was a peculiar shade of red. Her bows seemed bluffer than when I had seen her last, indeed from the present shape and construction of her masts and gear it would have been extremely difficult to tell her for the same vessel.

At six o'clock, and in the eye of a glorious sunset, we got up our pressure and steamed out to sea. Of that voyage there is little to tell. The Van Tromp was a clumsy old tub of an almost obsolete pattern, and by the time we reached Tanjong Priok, as the seaport of Batavia is called, I had had about enough of her.

Once there, I repacked my bag and stepped on to the wharf, resolved to take the first train to the city. Arriving there I drove direct to the hotel whose name Alie had given me and booked my room.

Batavia is a pretty place, and at the time of our visit was looking its best. So far I had seen nothing of Alie, and I did not like to make inquiries concerning her lest by so doing I might excite suspicion. To while away the time till dinner I lit a cigar, and seating myself in the long verandah that surrounded the house, read my book, keeping a watchful eye on the folk about me all the time.

Shortly before five o'clock, I noticed that the Dutch ladies in my neighbourhood ordered afternoon tea, and partook of it in the verandah. Not to be outdone, I followed their example. But just as I was about to pour myself out a cup an interruption occurred which presently assumed annoying proportions.

The table, on which my Malay boy had placed the tray, stood in the full glare of the afternoon sun, and this being hotter than I liked, I bade him move it nearer to the wall, and to facilitate matters, myself took up the tray on which my cup stood, brimming full. Just as he was putting the table down, however, two strange ladies turned the corner of the verandah and came towards us. The taller, and younger of the two, was a fine dark woman, with a wealth of beautiful brown hair rolled tightly behind her head. She was dressed in a well-fitting travelling dress, wore, what I believe is called, a sailor hat, and walked with a carriage that would have even attracted attention in the most crowded street in the world. Her companion was an older woman, and, if one might judge by appearances, nearer sixty than fifty, with a fine, aristocratic face, and a considerable quantity of grey hair heaped in little corkscrew curls all over her head.

When they came level with where I stood, I stepped back to let them pass, but in doing so came into collision with the younger lady. How it happened I cannot say, but the result was in every way disastrous; the tray slipped, and would have fallen had I not caught it in time, but the cup of tea was too quick for me, and fell to the ground, splashing the young lady's pretty grey dress beyond hope of remedy in its descent. The cup and saucer were broken into a hundred pieces. For a moment the fair sufferer stood silent, hardly, I suppose, knowing what to say; but when I commenced my apologies and wanted to run to my room for a cloth with which to wipe her dress, she found her voice, and said with a strong American accent —

"You must do nothing of the kind. It was all my fault. I declare I'm downright sorry."

It would have been one of the prettiest voices I had ever heard but for the Yankee twang that spoiled it. I hastened to assure her that I could not let her take the blame upon herself, and once more begged to be allowed to sponge the tea off her dress. This, however, she would not permit me to do.

"It won't hurt," she assured me for the twentieth time, "and if it did, it's an old dress, so don't bother yourself. But now, look here, you've been deprived of your tea, and that's not fair at all. Say, won't you come right along to our verandah and take a cup with us? You're English, I know, and it's real nice to have somebody who speaks our own tongue to talk to. Promise 'Yes' right away and we'll be off."

There was something so frank about her that, though I didn't at all want to go, I could not resist her. So putting the remnants of the cup and saucer back upon the tray I accepted the invitation and accompanied them round the hotel garden to their own verandah on the other side. As I went I kept my eyes open for any sign of Alie, but though I thought I saw her once I presently found I was mistaken. I could not help wondering what she would think if she met me in this girl's company. However, as I had let myself in for it I had nobody to thank but myself.

When we reached the ladies' quarters we found tea prepared. Before we sat down, however, the younger lady said, without a shadow of embarrassment —

"I reckon, before we begin, we'd better do a little introducing, don't you? This lady (she pointed to her companion) is my very kind friend Mrs. Beecher, of Boston, with whom I am travelling; you've probably heard of Beecher's patent double-action sofa springs, I reckon? I am Kate Sanderson, of New York, only daughter of millionaire Sanderson, of Wall Street, whom I guess you've heard all about too. So you see we're both of the United States of America, and very much at your service."

"I am very glad to have met you," I answered. "My name is De Normanville, and I hail from London."

"Not Dr. De Normanville, of Cavendish Square, surely?"

"Yes, the same. Cavendish Square was my London address two years ago. But how do you come to know it?"

"Well, now, if that isn't real extraordinary! I thought I recognised you directly I set eyes on you. But it's mighty plain you don't remember me! That's not much of a compliment any way you look at it. Is it, Mrs. Beecher?"

The elder declined to commit herself, so Miss Sanderson once more turned to me.

"Just think now, Dr. De Normanville," she said. "Look at me well, and try to remember where we have met before."

I looked and looked, but for the life of me I could not recall her face, and yet somehow it seemed strangely familiar to me. All the time I was watching her she sat gazing at me with an amused smile upon her face, and when she saw that it was useless my cudgelling my brains any more, gave another little silvery laugh, and said —

"Do you remember, just three years ago, being called in to the Langham Hotel to attend a young American lady who had a fish-bone stuck in her throat?"

"I remember the circumstance perfectly," I answered, "but that young lady was only one or two and twenty."

"You think then I look older than that? Well! I reckon you are really not very complimentary. But you must remember that that was three years ago, and I was only a girl then. When once we get grown up, and past a certain point, over on our side, we age pretty fast. That's so, I reckon. Well now you know me, don't you? What a day that was, to be sure, wasn't it? Lor! how pap and mammie did go on! Anybody'd have thought I was going to Kingdom Come right away to have heard them. D'you know, I reckon I must have got the marks of that bone in my throat to this day."

"It was a very nasty scratch, if I remember rightly," I answered, glad to have at last discovered who this talkative creature was, and where I had seen her face before.

"Are you remaining very long in Java, Mrs. Beecher?" I asked the elder lady, feeling that so far she had been rather neglected.

"No, I think not," she answered thoughtfully; "we are trying to make up our minds whether to take a British India steamer home from here, or to go up to Singapore and intercept a Peninsular and Oriental there. Miss Sanderson has taken a great fancy to the East, and I must confess I am very loth to leave it."

"You are quite right," I said. "I can fully sympathise with your feelings. I am sadly reluctant to go back to foggy old England myself, after my trip out here."

"And do you intend going back very soon?" asked Miss Sanderson, who had been smoothing out her gloves upon her knee.

"Within the next month or so," I answered, with a sigh. "My business in the East is at an end, and I have no excuse for staying longer."

From this point the talk drifted on to general topics, and when tea was finished I seized the first opportunity that presented itself, and, making an excuse, withdrew. Just as I stepped from the verandah, one of the small native dos-a-dos carts entered the grounds and drew up near the end of my corridor. Two ladies descended from it, and, having paid the driver, entered their rooms. One was tall, and the other rather shorter. At last I felt convinced Alie had arrived.

As they disappeared the gong warned us to prepare for dinner; but, heedless of my costume, I seated myself outside my door and waited. Though I remained there for some time, however, they did not emerge again, and at last I was compelled to go in and make myself presentable without having seen them.

At dinner, which was served in the palatial marble dining saloon standing in the centre of the gardens, I discovered to my annoyance that my place was laid at a long table at the further end, exactly opposite those occupied by the American ladies with whom I had taken tea.

From where I sat it was quite impossible for me to see all over the room, and, in consequence, I could not tell whether Alie was present or not. As soon, however, as the meal was over I rose, and, before walking out, looked about me. Some of the residents were still dining, and at the end of the middle table, farthest from me, were, without doubt, the two ladies whom I had seen arrive. At the distance I was from them it was quite impossible to tell who they were, but from the poise of her head and the shape of her beautiful arms and shoulders, I felt convinced that the taller of the two was the woman I loved, and whom I had all the afternoon been so anxiously expecting.

Seeing, however, that it was just possible I might be mistaken, and remembering the instruction Alie had given me to let our meeting appear accidental, I could not walk down the length of the room and accost her, so I betook myself into the marble portico and waited for them to come out. But, as it happened, Miss Sanderson and her friend were the first to emerge, and the voluble young American took me by storm at once. From what she told me I gathered two things, first, that hitherto she had found her evenings dull, and, second, that on this particular occasion there was to be an open-air concert on the King's Plain, distant about a mile from the hotel. She and her friend had intended going, if they could find an escort, and there and then she asked me if I would officiate in that capacity. I did not know what to say. They were women, and I could not be rude; and, moreover as they had evidently set their hearts upon going, and I was not positively certain that Alie had arrived, I felt I had no right to decline the honour of escorting them. Accordingly I assented, and went across the garden to get my hat. Five minutes later they met me at the gates, and we strolled down the road together towards the plain.

There are few prettier places in the world than Batavia, and I have met with few handsomer girls than the distinguished-looking American by my side; but for all that I was not contented with my lot. I wanted to be back in the verandah at the hotel watching for Alie.

Leaving a handsome street behind us we passed on to the plain, where a large crowd of people were promenading to the strains of a military band. At any other time the music would have been inspiriting, but, in the humour I was in, the gayest marches sounded like funeral dirges. For over an hour we continued to promenade, until I began really to think that I should have to ask my friends to accompany me home or remain where they were without me. But at last the concert came to an end, and we once more turned our faces in the direction of our hotel.

"You have been very quiet this evening," said Miss Sanderson to me as we left the turf and stepped on to the road again.

"I hope my being so has not spoilt your enjoyment," I said, trying to beg the question.

"Oh; dear no!" Then, as if something had suddenly struck her, "Do you expect to see anyone in Batavia? I have noticed that you scan every lady we pass as if you were on the look-out for an acquaintance."

"I did expect to see someone, I must confess," I answered. "You have sharp eyes, Miss Sanderson."

"They have been trained in a sharp school," was her brief reply.

By this time we were within five minutes walk of home, and in the act of crossing one of the numerous bridges that, in Dutch fashion, grace Batavia's streets. We paused for a few moments and leaned over the parapet to look down at the star-spangled water oozing its silent way towards the sea. It was all very quiet, and as far as we could see we had the street to ourselves. Suddenly Miss Sanderson dropped her American accent, and said in quite a different voice —

"Dr. De Normanville, this has gone far enough. Do you know me now?"

It was Alie!

To say that I was taken by surprise would not be to express my condition at all. I was simply overwhelmed with astonishment, and for some seconds could only stand and stare at her in complete amazement. Her disguise was so perfect, her American accent was so real, her acting had been so wonderfully maintained, that I never for an instant suspected the trick she had been playing upon me.

"You! Alie," I cried when at last I found my voice. "Is it possible that Miss Sanderson has been a myth all the time?"

"Not only quite possible, but a fact," she answered, with a laugh. "Yes! I am Alie, and no more Miss Sanderson, of New York, than you are. Do me the justice to remember I warned you I was good at disguising myself. My reason for not revealing my identity to you before was that I wanted thoroughly to test the value of the part I was playing, and since you, who know me so well, did not recognise me, I am inclined to believe nobody else will."

"It is simply marvellous. If you had not declared yourself I should never have known you. And your companion is therefore not Mrs. Beecher, whose husband's patent double-action sofa springs are so justly famous, any more than you are Miss Sanderson?"

"No, both the husband and the sofa springs are creations of my own imagination."

"But the incident you recalled to my memory. The bone in your throat that I extracted at the Langham, how do you account for that?"

"Easily! One day in your surgery at the settlement you casually mentioned having extracted a fish bone from a young American lady's throat at that hotel. I thought it unlikely, as it was the only time you ever saw her, that you would remember her name or face, so I assumed that character in order to try the effect of my disguise upon you."

"You are a wonderful actress; you would make your fortune on the stage."

"Do you think so? What a sensation it would cause in the East. Under the patronage of His Excellency the Governor of Hong Kong, the Admiral and Commander-in-Chief, the Beautiful White Devil as Ophelia, or Desdemona shall we say, why, what houses I should draw. But now to business. As we may not have another opportunity, let us see that our plans coincide. By the way, the French boat leaves to-morrow afternoon for Singapore. You have booked your passage, of course?"

I nodded assent, and she continued —

"You must board her alone. We shall join just before she sails. When we get to Singapore we must drive separately to the Mandalay Hotel, and figure there in the light of casual travelling acquaintances. Before you have been in the place half a day you will probably have been introduced to Mr. Ebbington, the man we want. He will see you talking to me, and by hook or crook you must introduce him to me. Whatever you do, don't forget, however, that my name is Sanderson. Having done this, leave the rest to me. Do you think you thoroughly understand?"

"Thoroughly."

"That's right. Now let us be getting home. To-morrow we must be early astir."

We continued our walk, and in five minutes had bade each other good-night in the hotel gardens, and separated.

By sundown next day we were on board the Messageries Maritimes Company's boat, steaming out of Tanjong Priok Harbour, bound for Singapore. I joined the steamer some time before her advertised sailing hour, but it was close upon the time of her departure when Alie and her companion made their appearance.