“Am acting independently and can’t communicate.”
Did Chetusingh know he was conscious? How did he know? Had he seen the
momentary flutter of the eyelids? The Rajput’s retreating footfall—he
was evidently barefooted —rutched along the floor, paused at the
opening, hesitated—
“Go!” repeated Wu Tu.
There were sounds as if Chetusingh groped in the dark for something. It
appeared he found slippers or sandals which he slapped on the floor or the
wall before putting them on—habit that—to get the dust out, or to
avoid being stung by an insect—a perfectly natural action, almost
automatic. Thousands of Indians do it. But the
slap-slap—pause—slap—pause—slap-slap was a signal as
plain as the other had been—meaningless to anyone but Blair and
Chetusingh. To them it meant:
“Give me time for necessary details and await my signal.”
After that he heard Chetusingh scramble clumsily, as if he were dog-tired
and indifferent, along the ten or twelve feet of the low, square
entrance-hole. He heard him get to his feet at the far end.j Then he heard
him drop the little metal box in which he kept materials for preparing pan,
stuff that he never chewed but never went without because an offer of pan is
like a proffered cigarette; it serves sometimes to open intimacy with
strangers.
He could be heard groping in the dark for the fallen box. He fumbled it.
Then he opened the box and snapped it shut. That signal meant: “No immediate
danger.”
Did it? Their code was a system of norma] movements such as any one might
make in almost any circumstances. The first and second signal might,
conceivably, have been made by accident. But three signals running seemed
beyond the pale of coincidence. On the other hand, Chetusingh had told Wu Tu
he made a signal previously for the purpose of betrayal. Whom was he
betraying now? Benefit of doubt is doubtful policy when death creeps uncoiled
in the dark. Wu Tu boasted Chetusingh was her man. Was he? Wu Tu spoke
suddenly in Chinese and Blair opened his eyes a fraction. He saw the Chinese
girl, fully dressed now, bend to take up the one remaining lantern and follow
Chetusingh. She paused at the far end of the low opening, seemed to listen to
Chetusingh’s retreating footsteps, and at last set down the lantern and
remained beside it. It was safe to open his eyes wide then. It was pitch-dark
except for one spot of reflected red light dancing on the water that poured
into the cistern. At the far end of the low entrance was the lantern,
ruby-red, like a point-light in an underground railway tunnel.
But he closed his eyes after a moment. Wu Tu lifted his head to her
lap—touched something to his nostrils. It had a faint smell, but
whatever it was she shook it as if it was empty and he heard her set it down.
After that her fingers caressed his temples and passed over his eyes.
“Sleep!” she commanded in a low voice. “Sleep! Sleep” He found it difficult
at first to stay awake. He had been exhausted and sleepy before this
happened. Lassitude stole over him. The gurgling water harmonized with her
voice. He could almost physically feel magnetic influence stealing over him
and he began to see her eyes again through closed eyelids.
He reminded himself that there is no such influence; that by suggestion
mesmerists persuade a victim to impose obedience on himself. Nevertheless, he
felt consciousness slipping. But her eyes, that he saw without seeing,
aroused anger. He resented them— rebelled against the impudent trickery
that compelled him to see them. Had she done something of the sort to
Henrietta? The thought of Henrietta in Wu Tu’s clutches stirred an impulse to
kill. But the same impulse aroused caution. He must first, have Wu Tu’s
secret—Henrietta’s—Frensham’s. Secrecy is the key to secrets. He
lay still.
There was something hard between the back of his hand and his leg. He
guessed it was the empty revolver. By pressing his hand against that he hurt
it sharply where the Chinese girl had pricked him and he. had bitten the
wound to make it bleed. He kept on doing it. The pain intensified alertness.
By continually relaxing and increasing the pressure he avoided becoming used
to it.
“Sleep!” commanded Wu Tu. “Sleep! Sleep! Sleep and forget—and
forget.” Her hands moved rhythmically caressing his eyes and temples. Some or
her sensuous perfume still clung to her clothing. Heat, the sensation of
darkness, the.sound of flowing water aided her. Stab-stab went the pain in
his right hand. He was awake, alert. But he breathed evenly, relaxing his
neck-muscles so that his head lay heavy oh her lap. “Forget! Forget!”
commanded Wu Tu. He remembered every detail of her previous attempt on him in
Bombay. She pinched his ear but he was ready for it—lay still. She
pinched until her nails almost met in the lobe of his ear, but he betrayed no
sign of having felt it. The voltage of his anger increased with every stab of
pain, but he welcomed the pain because it proved he was conscious.
“You are asleep,” she said, “but you know. Marie speaks to you. You are
happy—oh, so happy, because Marie gives you Henrietta. You desire, and
you love Henrietta with all your heart.”
The position of his neck across her thigh had become almost intolerable.
He, moved slightly. She took his head in both hands and re-settled it in her
lap. “Sleep! Sleep! You are asleep. But you can speak when I tell you to
speak.”
The terrific difficulty was. to lie slack. If he had allowed alertness to
make his muscles rigid she would have noticed it. Mesmerism very likely was
her last card, if it was true that her supply of drug was exhausted. To
defeat her, he must convince her she was winning. But it is easier to feign
strength than weakness. He was afraid he might sneeze. Fear created the
impulse. Not to sneeze, then, was his,height of attainment of self-control.
He did not sneeze, and the effort of will left him more than ever master of
himself. He no longer saw Wu Tu’s eyes through closed eyelids. His
imagination functioned normally; he could bring up any mental picture he
wished; could see himself, for instance, unshaven, in a filthy uniform, on
his back on the floor of a hewn rock chamber, with his head in the lap of the
most dangerous woman in India.
He did not enjoy the danger; but he admired that woman with a patient,
merciless and deadly admiration that exceeded, by a thousand times, his
regard for the tiger he, had shot dead the previous night. His admiration
for. her was her greatest danger. She might spring surprises, but he Would be
ready.
“Sleep!” she commanded. “Sleep! You are in a deep sleep. But you can hear
and you can answer. You think what I tell you to think. You have no other
thought. It makes you happy—very happy—very, very happy to think
what I tell you. You have no voice except to answer me. You are about to go
to Henrietta. You love Henrietta. Answer me. Do you love Henrietta?”
“Yes,” he answered, picking a tone of voice at random. It appeared to
satisfy her.
“And you trust me, Marie. Answer, do you trust me?”
“Yes,” he answered.
“Yes,, you trust me. I am Marie, who am more than a lover and more than a
friend. Blair, Marie—Marie, Blair—we two trust and understand
each other. When you awake you will forget Wu Tu; you will forget Jenny and
Soonia Singh. You will remember Marie, who is your friend and guide. Answer.
Whom do you remember?
“Marie.”
“Marie has wisdom, experience, courage. Marie is the wisest woman in the
world. Marie knows how rotten all the world is, with intrigues and treachery,
and she despises it, so you also despise it. Like her, you despise the little
official cowards with big names and authority. They call Marie Wu Tu, and
they know she could ruin them, men and women. She knows their secrets. But
you know why she doesn’t ruin them. Marie is great and generous. Great and
generous. Marie deserves to be great. Answer: what is Marie?”
“Great,” he answered. “Great and generous.” He could feel her thrill to
the answer.
“Now you will go to Henrietta because Marie sends you. Henrietta loves
you. You love Henrietta. But she is in danger because she has stolen the
secret of the Woman of Gaglajung. She is in deadly danger. You will go to
Henrietta. You will love her savagely— savagely—strong, sweet,
overwhelming. You will make her tell the secret. Win it from her. Make her
tell it to you. Henrietta may demand your promise not to tell the secret to
Wu Tu. You will make that promise. Henrietta, does not know Marie. It will be
Marie, not Wu Tu, to whom you will tell it. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“What secret will you find out?”
“Henrietta’s.”
“What is it? Answer.”
“The secret of the Woman of Gaglajung.”
“Will you tell it to Wu Tu?”
“No.”
“But to whom will you tell it?”
“Marie.”
“Nothing is important except Henrietta’s secret. You will make her tell it
to you. It is so important that you will rather die than not learn it. You
will learn it from her. You will tell it to me. Answer. To whom will you tell
it?”
“Marie.”
“At once to Marie?”
“At once to Marie.”
Her thigh muscle moved. He felt her leaning forward as if listening. Down
at the far end of the low opening the Chinese girl coughed on a peculiar note
and made noises by shifting the lantern. The sounds appeared to convey
information. Wu Tu relaxed a little. Then she laid both hands on Blair’s
forehead and continued:
“Taron Ling is the enemy. Are you afraid of Taron Ling?”
Not knowing on the spur of the moment how to answer that question, Blair
was silent. A principle of hypnotism is to tell the victim what to answer
before asking a question. This one might be a trick, to discover whether he
was really under hypnotic control. She repeated it. He continued silent. If
it was a test, she appeared satisfied. She resumed:
“Taron Ling is the enemy. Answer. Who is the enemy?”
“Taron Ling.”
“You do not fear Taron Ling. You despise him. You do not fear him in the
least. He has no power over you, no influence over you. You do not fear Taron
Ling. He only knows a little silly magic such as works on superstitious
fools. He may be able to control Bat-Brahmins and hermits, but not you and
you don’t fear him, because Marie protects you from him. Answer. Do you fear
Taron Ling?”
“No.”
“Who protects you from him? Answer.”
“Marie.”
“When you awake you will not remember Taron Ling. You will remember Marie,
your friend. You will obey her because you understand’ her, and she loves you
and protects you. Answer. Whom will you obey when you awake?”
“Marie.”
Again she appeared to be listening, for the space of forty or fifty
heart-beats. Again the Chinese girl made noises that perhaps conveyed
information. They ceased. Against the sound of splashing water Blair could
hear Wu Tu’s heartbeat and his own—out of time with each
other—hers fluttering fast. It was nearly a minute before she
continued:
“Chetusingh is a treacherous swine and a liar. Chetusingh is Taron Ling’s
dupe. Certain women put some poison into him to make him sensible but Taron
Ling deceived him, made him see things, and confused him. Now he is doubly
treacherous, obeying first one and then the other. He will try to kill Taron
Ling. But Taron Ling will kill him. It doesn’t matter. Chetusingh has served
his purpose, which was to go with a message to Henrietta before daybreak,
saying you wished her to accompany him for secret reasons. Henrietta will ask
you, was it a true message? You will say yes. Answer. Was it a true
message?”
“Yes.”
“Chetusingh is a traitor, but he gave a true message to Henrietta. But now
he betrays her. He betrays you. He is a swine of a Christian convert. You
hate Chetusingh. Answer.”
“I hate Chetusingh.”
“You love Marie because she guards you against Chetusingh and Taron Ling,
who are a pair of devils. What are they? Answer.”
“Devils.”
“Let us hope they kill each, other. All men die who seek the secret of the
Woman of Gaglajung. Frensham sought it. And where is he? What happened to
Zaman Ali and those others? They are dead—dead—dead. But
Henrietta is to be the mother of Blair’s children, not a victim of the Woman
of Gaglajung, whose curse is on all who violate her Secret. Save Henrietta
from that! I, Marie; fear no curse. I violate no secret. I will take all
consequences. I am Marie, rich in wisdom. I will know and preserve the secret
in my heart of hearts I—”
She paused, trembling with excitement. Her hands pressed on Blair’s
forehead. Emotion poured along them, like a stream of will; it was
contagious, but not as she meant it to be. It sharpened the intensity of
Blair’s resistance and revived his energy. His thought worked wholly
independently of hers. He saw the logical conclusion of her purpose. Should
she learn the secret she would try to kill both Henrietta and himself. She
would share it with no one.
But she feared Taron Ling, that was evident. Fear of Chetusingh, too,
might explain why she had inveighed against him. That was a point in
Chetusingh’s favor. Almost super-humanly crafty in some, respects, Chetusingh
might risk the chance of being killed for treachery, in order to gain an
objective.
Wu Tu’s weakness was her belief in her own hypnotic power; but without
drugs to assist her she was only an amateur. Chetusingh would appreciate
that. He might have found some way of avoiding the effect of the drugs. If
so, his obvious cue was to pretend to be hypnotised. He had always been the
best actor on the police force. By convincing Wu Tu that he was thoroughly
hypnotised, Chetusingh might overhear or worm his way into her secret plans.
Supposing he had learned of her intention to hypnotise Blair, he would guess
what Blair would do about it. They had worked together too often and
successfully for him not to guess that Blair would pretend to fall into the
trap. Chetusingh from that minute received benefit of doubt.