CHAPTER V.

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MAKING NEW ACQUAINTANCES.

Frederick's fellow-passengers on board the mail steamer comprised the usual contingent of Calcutta and Bombay merchants; of judges, collectors, and other members of the Indian Civil Service en route to rejoin their posts on the expiration of their leave of absence, and of a considerable sprinkling of military men, some of whom were on their way to the East for the first time. There were also quite a number of ladies and young girls who had been spending the hot season in England, and who were returning for the winter to their husbands and fathers. Besides these, there were several Parsee and other native traders, who, having been welcomed as princes and nabobs at Paris, and elsewhere in Europe, found it difficult to reconcile themselves again to the contemptuous treatment which even the humblest British subaltern deems it his duty to extend to the “black men.”

For the first three days after leaving Suez, Frederick failed to put in an appearance either at table or on deck, and remained most of the time in the seclusion of his own cabin. His nerves had been rudely shaken by the exciting scenes attending his departure from Cairo, and he felt a cold shiver run down his back when he thought of the terrible fate that would have been his lot had he fallen into the hands of the janizaries and eunuchs of M. le Pasha. With all its veneer of civilization, Egypt was then, and still is to this day, an essentially oriental country. The mysteries of the harem are still as dark and shadowy as in days of yore; and notwithstanding all that may be said to the contrary, neither justice nor police legislation has ever succeeded in penetrating the Zenana. Within its walls, the pasha, or bey, especially if he be wealthy and influential, is absolute master of life and death of the inmates. He is accountable to no one for what goes on in his harem; and the stranger who dares to commit the unpardonable offense of invading its sanctity must be prepared to face either death or the most horrible forms of mutilation and torture.

Of remorse for the death of the pasha's second wife, Frederick felt none. He had strangled her in self-defense; and, although he had no intention of killing her at the time, yet he considered that she fully merited her fate. He was equally indifferent as to what had become of the princess. His enthusiasm had given way to feelings of anger against her for causing him to incur so terrible a danger. It is evident, however, that she must have succeeded in giving some satisfactory explanation to the pasha, both as to the presence of a stranger in her apartments, and as to the death of his second wife, for she is alive to this day, and neither increasing age nor corpulency had had the effect of putting a stop to her adventures, which from time to time furnish a piece of gossip, seasoned highly enough even for the jaded palates of the Cairenes. Her husband, the pasha, expired somewhat suddenly a few years ago, and she has not since remarried.

On the fourth day of the voyage, just as the vessel was steaming past the barren island of Perim, Frederick, who by this time had entirely recovered, made his way on deck, and, with a cigar in his mouth, leaned against the bulwarks, watching signals which were being displayed from the masthead of the fort. He was just about to turn away and to stroll forward for the purpose of inspecting the strange assortment of native deck passengers bound for Aden, when he was accosted by a handsome young Englishman, who requested the favor of a light for his pipe. A conversation sprang up between the two, during the course of which Frederick discovered that his new acquaintance was a wealthy young guardsman, Sir Charles Montgomery by name, who was on his way out to take up a staff appointment at Calcutta. The name of General von Waldberg was not unknown to the baronet, and he therefore had no hesitancy about introducing Frederick not only to his fellow-officers, but also to most of of the other prominent passengers on board. The young count soon became a great favorite, especially with the ladies. Much of his time, however, was spent in the smoking-room on deck, playing cards with Sir Charles, and some four or five of the latter's messmates. During the first two days Frederick lost heavily, which he could ill afford, for, after paying his hotel bill at Cairo, and purchasing his passage for Bombay, he had found that his money was almost exhausted. On the third day, however, his spell of bad luck came to an end, and from that time forth his winnings were considerable. No matter what the game might be, his hand was invariably such as to arouse the envy and admiration of all beholders. Both Sir Charles and two other of the officers lost large sums to him, and at length one night, on rising from the card-table, the baronet was sharply taken to task by one of his fellow-losers, a Captain Clery, who inquired, with some asperity, whether he was sure of “that dused German fellow.”

“What do you mean? What on earth are you driving at, my dear Clery? What should I know more about him than you do yourself? There is no doubt about his being the son of old General von Waldberg, whose name you are just as well acquainted with as I am.”

“That is just what puzzles me,” replied the captain. “How can you explain the fact that a man of his station and military training should be here on board a Bombay-bound steamer, instead of being with the German Army before Paris? There is something very fishy and queer about him.”

“I don't agree with you one bit,” retorted Sir Charles. “I think he is a very nice fellow—remarkably bright and amusing, and exceedingly wide awake and clever.”

“Too clever by half,” muttered Captain Clery, savagely twisting his heavy blonde mustache. “I am going to watch his game. I don't believe he plays fair. It isn't natural that he should win whenever there is a heavy stake on the table. I believe he is simply plucking us like so many blue-necked pigeons.”

Had Frederick obtained any inkling of the purport of Captain Clery's remarks about his extraordinary run of luck, or was it mere coincidence that he lost twenty guineas at ecarte on the following afternoon? Be this as it may, the fact remains that during the rest of the voyage he seized various pretexts for absenting himself from the card-table, and devoted his whole time to a very lovely girl, Florence Fitzpatrick by name, to whom he had been presented by Sir Charles. Her father, who hailed from County Cork, held a high command in the Army of the “Guicowar,” or King of Baroda, and had made the acquaintance of General von Waldberg some years previously at Vienna. The old count had not only treated him with much kindness and consideration, but had also obtained him facilities for attending the annual maneuvers of the Prussian and Austrian Armies. He was therefore delighted to have an opportunity of making some return for the courtesy shown to him by Frederick's father, and warmly pressed the young man to visit him at Baroda.

About a fortnight after landing in India, just as Frederick was beginning to grow heartily sick of Bombay, he received a letter from Colonel Fitzpatrick reminding him of his promise to spend a few weeks at Baroda, and urging him to come up at once so as to be in time for a big tiger-hunt which was about to take place. Accordingly, on the next day, having telegraphed to the colonel to announce his impending arrival, he started on his journey up country.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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