The Mystery of the Ravenspurs: A Romance and Detective Story of Thibet and EnglandWhite, Fred M. (Fred Merrick)
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The Mystery of the Ravenspurs: A Romance and Detective Story of Thibet and England
White, Fred M. (Fred Merrick)
Detective and mystery stories; England -- Fiction; Romance fiction; Tibet Autonomous Region (China) -- Fiction
Again the Princess smiled. She looked searchingly into Tchigorsky's
face, as if she would fain read his very soul. But she saw nothing there
but the dull eyes of a man who keeps his feelings behind a mask. Then,
with a flirt of her fan and a more or less mocking curtsey, she turned
to go.
"You are a fine antagonist," she said; "but I do not admit yet that you
are a check to my king. I shall find a way. Good-night!"
She turned and plunged into the glittering crowd, and was seen no more.
A strange fit of trembling came over Ravenspur as Tchigorsky led him
out.
"That woman stifles me," he said. "If she had only guessed who had been
seated so near to her! Tchigorsky, you played your cards well."
Tchigorsky smiled.
"I was glad of that opportunity," he said. "She meant to have me
murdered; but she will hesitate for a time. We have one great
advantage--we know what we have to face and she does not. The men are on
the board, the cards are on the table. It is you and I against Princess
Zara and the two priests of the temple of Lassa. And we play for the
lives of a good and innocent family."
"We do," Ralph said grimly. "But why--why does this fascinating Asiatic
come all those miles to destroy one by one a race that she can scarcely
have heard of? Why does she do it, Tchigorsky?"
"You have not guessed who the Princess is, then?"
Tchigorsky bent down and whispered three words in Ralph's ear. And not
until Brant Street was reached had Ralph come back from his amazement to
the land of speech.
CHAPTER IX
APRIL DAYS
The terror never lifted now from the old house. There were days and
weeks when nothing happened, but the garrison did not permit itself to
believe that the unseen enemy had abandoned the unequal contest.
The old people were prepared for the end which they believed to be
inevitable. A settled melancholy was upon them, and it was only when
they were together that anything like a sense of security prevailed. For
the moment they were safe--there was always safety in numbers.
But when they parted for the night they parted as comrades on the eve of
a bloody battle. They might meet again, but the chances were strong
against it. For themselves they cared nothing; for the younger people,
everything.
It was fortunate that the fine constitutions and strong nerves of
Geoffrey and Vera and Marion kept them going. A really imaginative man
or woman would have been driven mad by the awful suspense. But Geoffrey
was bright and sunny; he always felt that the truth would come to light
some day. And his buoyant, sanguine nature reacted on the others.
Nearly a month had elapsed since the weird attempt on the life of Rupert
Ravenspur; four weeks since Geoffrey's strange experience on the cliffs;
and nothing had happened. The family had lapsed once more into their
ordinary mode of living; blind Ralph was back again, feeling his way
about the castle as usual, silent, moody, in the habit of gliding in
upon people as a snake comes through the grass.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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