In their anxiety for the life of the little boy, the girls had forgotten Jasper Batt. They were startled to see him emerge from the passageway, staggering as he walked toward them. His eyes had a wild, half-crazed expression, but the girls hardly noticed this. They were glad he was on his feet.
“Ask Mr. Batt if he has any medicine on the premises,” Nancy urged her companions. She continued to work over Rishi, encouraged by the tiny bit of color that was returning to his face.
Bess and George questioned the elderly caretaker, and after explaining several times what they wanted, succeeded in making him comprehend them. He led the cousins to a medicine cabinet in a corner.
As George selected a stimulant, Bess said, “Mr. Batt, how are you feeling?”
“I kin walk, that’s about all,” he replied.
After Nancy had administered the stimulant, she was relieved to notice that Rishi’s heartbeat became stronger. Soon he stirred and his eyelids fluttered open. He murmured something in his native tongue. Gradually he became aware of the little group around him and smiled at Nancy in recognition.
“Nancy save Rishi,” he whispered weakly.
“Don’t try to talk yet,” she told him. “Just lie still and rest.”
Rishi did not obey the order. His eyes fastened on the ivory charm Nancy wore around her neck, and he took hold of it.
“Rishi’s life safe because of power in elephant charm!” he said.
“Please don’t try to talk,” Nancy advised again.
For some minutes Rishi remained quiet, gaining strength. Then, rousing, he indicated that he felt able to sit up.
The girls had paid little attention to Jasper Batt, knowing that he no longer needed their aid. They had actually forgotten his presence until he suddenly ran forward, waving a fist at Rishi.
“Now I remember! It comes back to me! He’s the one who struck me!”
“Impossible!” George exclaimed. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Mr. Batt.”
“Rishi is a friend of ours,” Bess added.
“Rishi,” the caretaker repeated. Obviously the name was unfamiliar to him. “No, he was the one!” he insisted wildly. “He told the other man to strike me.”
“Only a moment ago you said that Rishi struck you,” Nancy reminded him. “At first you declared you didn’t see your attacker.”
“This man was the person,” the caretaker mumbled.
“Why, he’s not a man at all—only a boy of twelve,” Nancy cried.
“You are in league with him. You plotted with him to steal my papers! Give them back to me or I’ll lose my job.”
“The man is completely out of his mind,” Bess murmured in an undertone. “Don’t pay any at tention to him.”
It was impossible to ignore Jasper Batt, however, for he was quarrelsome and determined to make trouble. No amount of argument or explanation could convince him that Nancy and her friends knew nothing of the mysterious papers that had been stolen from him.
“You’re all my enemies,” Batt accused belligerently. “If you didn’t come to trick and cheat me, why are you here?”
“We came to this house just to look around,” Nancy said soothingly. “We’ll leave immediately.”
“Oh, no you won’t!” the caretaker shouted. “Not until you hand over my papers. Give them to me.”
“I tell you I know nothing of your papers. Try to be reasonable, Mr. Batt.”
“If you won’t give them to me, I’ll take them!”
The caretaker seized Nancy roughly by the arm, and tried to thrust his hand into the pocket of her jacket. Bess and George, enraged, went to their friend’s aid. The struggle lasted only a brief time, as Jasper Batt had not fully recovered his strength. He fell back against the wall, gasping.
“As soon as he regains his breath he’ll be after you again, Nancy,” Bess warned. “What shall we do?”
“We must get away from here before he becomes more violent.”
Overhearing Nancy’s remark, Jasper Batt moved swiftly to the foot of the stone steps. He believed that the girls intended to escape through an upper window.
“Oh, no you don’t!” he sneered.
“We must slip out through the secret tunnel,” Nancy whispered.
She helped Rishi to his feet, and with George supporting him on the opposite side, the four moved stealthily into the passageway. Midway down the long tunnel, the girls paused to listen. They could not hear footsteps behind them.
“I hope we gave batty Mr. Batt the slip this time.” George chuckled.
“Don’t laugh until we’re safely out of here.” Bess shuddered. “What if the door in the rock won’t open?”
This suggestion erased the smile from George’s face, and she said no more until they reached the passageway exit. She groped about in the dim light and found a knob. The door opened easily, swinging slowly on huge iron hinges that had been drilled into the rock.
“Strange, the rock door can be moved only from inside,” Nancy mused as they all emerged.
The storm had abated. Now, as they assisted Rishi to Nancy’s automobile, the girls realized that a light rain was falling.
“How are you feeling?” Nancy asked the injured boy as she helped him into the car.
“Much better. But Rishi not try trick on ropes again.”
“I should hope not! Only a miracle saved you from death. If we had found you even five minutes later—”
“No miracle,” Rishi insisted firmly. “Ivory charm save life.”
“If I were you I wouldn’t trust this piece of ivory too far,” Nancy said. “As soon as we reach home you’re going straight to bed, and maybe have a doctor.”
By the time Nancy and Rishi arrived at the house, he had made such a noticeable improvement that it seemed unnecessary to call in a physician. Hannah helped the boy to bed and gave him some hot broth. He immediately fell into an untroubled sleep.
“I declare, Rishi has wound himself around my heart,” the housekeeper confided to Nancy as they met in the kitchen. “I didn’t realize how much he meant to me until this accident.”
“We must plan for him to continue his schooling,” Nancy said.
That night after dinner she brought up the subject of engaging a tutor to help Rishi with his English as long as he remained at the Drews’. As she had expected, Carson Drew instantly agreed.
“Select someone suitable and it will be perfectly satisfactory,” he said. “I’ll leave the matter entirely to you.”
“By the way, Dad,” Nancy said after a moment, “did Mrs. Allison ever call at your office?”
“No, she never did.”
“I heard her name mentioned today in connection with Rai,” Nancy told her father.
He glanced up with interest, and she told him the strange tale that Jasper Batt had related about the stolen papers.
“You’re certain you heard the names correctly?”
“Yes, I’m sure I did,” Nancy replied. “I suppose Batt must know Mrs. Allison well if she employs him to guard her property. It’s possible, of course, that Jasper Batt was completely out of his head about stolen papers,” Nancy admitted. “He certainly talked and acted wild enough.”
“Even so, he must have heard Rai’s name mentioned, or he wouldn’t have repeated it.”
Nancy nodded. “And another thing: when Batt first spoke of Mrs. Allison and the valuable papers he seemed fairly rational. It was later that he talked so strangely.”
“Perhaps the old man’s mind will clear and he can explain what he meant,” the lawyer suggested.
“I think I’ll give him a chance to settle down. Then I’ll run out there tomorrow and talk with him again,” Nancy said.
“If you do, be sure to take someone with you,” her father cautioned. “Batt may be harmless enough in his normal state, but if he hasn’t recovered from the blow on his head, he may give you some trouble.”
“I’ll be careful, Dad.”
As it turned out, Nancy did not make the trip to the abandoned house on the following day. Another matter occupied her attention. Later the previous evening Ned Nickerson had phoned. Nancy had briefed him on her exciting day and mentioned her plan to provide Rishi with a tutor.
“I know just the teacher for you,” Ned said. “Professor Lowell Stackpole.”
“It seems to me I’ve heard of him.”
“Well, I should think so! He taught for years at Emerson College and is now retired. He’s a traveler and art connoisseur. He has made at least ten trips to India and collects all sorts of native art. Professor Stackpole speaks several languages, including various Indian languages.”
“Wouldn’t he want more than we could afford to pay, Ned?”
“I don’t know. But I think if Rishi interested him he wouldn’t expect a very high fee. Would you like me to talk with him?”
“Yes, I would, Ned.”
“I’ll call Professor Stackpole tonight, and if the project appeals to him, I can introduce you to him tomorrow afternoon. How will that be?”
“Fine,” Nancy agreed, immediately abandoning her plans to visit Jasper Batt.
Early the next morning Ned phoned to say he had arranged an appointment with the noted professor.
“He and I will come to your house at three o’clock,” he promised. “Professor Stackpole wants to talk with Rishi before he decides whether he’ll tutor him.”
Nancy was excited over the approaching interview and hastened to tell Rishi the news. The Indian boy expressed appreciation for her interest, promising that he would study faithfully.
“As long as you keep ivory charm, Nancy, I do whatever you wish.” He smiled.
“And if I should lose the charm?”
“Then bad luck follow you and me.”
Promptly at three o’clock, Ned and the professor called at the Drew residence. Dr. Stackpole was a white-haired gentleman with a kind face. He carried himself well and his gait was that of a much younger man.
His bright-blue eyes glinted with interest as he shook Nancy’s hand. She noticed that his gaze rested for a long moment on the ivory charm she wore around her neck. But he did not mention the carved elephant immediately.
At first the conversation was general, pertaining for the most part to Professor Stackpole’s adventures in India.
“It is the most fascinating country in the world,” he told Nancy. “You would love the temples and the great bazaars where native wares are bartered.”
“I wish I might go there some day,” Nancy said wistfully.
“You might find that many customs and practices would horrify you,” Dr. Stackpole continued. “The old caste system has led to many social abuses. Then, too, in certain parts of the country the natives have no idea of sanitation. In the name of religion they bathe together in sacred rivers; some of the people are suffering from skin diseases.”
“I’m glad I live in the United States,” Ned interposed. “I understand that in India several different languages are spoken, among them Hindi, Marathi, Urdu, and Gujarati. Many communities have their own local dialect.”
“That could make communication between regions difficult, couldn’t it?” Nancy interjected.
The professor nodded, then said, “Some religions believe in reincarnation—that they are to be born many times. In some places children still marry at an early age. A girl unmarried at sixteen would be considered a disgrace to her family.”
“I suppose certain natives place great faith in charms and omens,” Nancy commented.
“Indeed they do. You might say that many of them are very superstitious. They believe in all sorts of miracles and sacrifices. One religious group, the Hindus, hold the cow to be sacred, another, the Parsis, worship fire. Many wear amulets and charms to ward off disease, preferring such protection to the services of a doctor. And there are natives who claim to have skill in black magic.”
“I’m particularly interested in the beliefs held in connection with elephants,” Nancy interposed.
Again Professor Stackpole’s eyes wandered to the charm worn around the girl’s neck.
He explained, “The cult of the white elephant, practiced by the kings of Siam, probably had its origin in India and was based on the Hindu worship of Airavat, the sacred elephant of India. Even today one finds many charms made in the form of the elephant. Some are carved from pure ivory.”
“Then ivory charms are somewhat common,” Nancy observed.
“It depends entirely upon the workmanship. Some are very rare indeed. If I am not mistaken, that charm you are wearing came from India.”
“It was given to me,” Nancy said. “I’ve been very curious about its history.”
“May I look at it?”
Nancy removed the charm from her neck and handed it to the professor for his inspection. He gazed at it so long without speaking that she began to feel uneasy.
“This is an unusual charm,” he said at last in a tone that was almost reverent. “I have never seen one of better workmanship or quality. The ivory is pure, and I should judge very old. It has been carved by an expert. Nancy, you have a treasure!”
CHAPTER VIII
Woman in a Trance
“I HAD no idea the carving was so valuable,” Nancy said.
“Unfortunately, I am not an ivory expert,” Professor Stackpole said with a frown. “Yet it is obvious even to one with my slight experience that this charm at one time must have belonged to a person of great wealth—probably a maharaja. At any rate, your charm is valuable and should be safeguarded.”
“I’ll take good care of it,” Nancy promised.
“The ancient ones are especially interesting,” Dr. Stackpole remarked. “Some of them are said to have contained precious jewels; others held a poison to be used against enemies; and some, a unique life-giving balm.”
“How could one tell the difference in the nature of the fluid?” Nancy asked curiously.
“The poison was dark in color, the life-giving balm of light hue. But, of course, such things belong to the past. The modern charms have no cavities.”
Nancy had been fascinated by Professor Stackpole’s tales of India, but she did not forget the purpose of his visit. Rishi was summoned to meet the distinguished gentleman.