Seek the Stars Read online

  When he had done so, he hurried down again, aware that it was now getting on for ten o’clock.

  He drove rapidly to Langbourne House and asked the butler if he could see the Marquis at once.

  To his relief he learned from the butler that he was in his study alone.

  This meant, the Earl thought, that the Marchioness had not yet come downstairs and so there was no chance of him seeing her.

  The butler opened the study door and announced him in an unnecessarily loud voice.

  The Marquis, who was sitting at his desk, looked up in some surprise.

  “Good morning, Norwin,” he said.

  “Good morning,” the Earl answered. “I have called to see you because I have received a letter from Sadira.”

  The Marquis smiled.

  “I thought she would write to you too. I have had a note from her saying that she has left for Paris. I suppose no young woman can resist buying her trousseau there.”

  “What she omitted to tell me,” the Earl said, “is her address and, of course, I want to write to her.”

  “I can understand,” the Marquis replied, “but you will hardly believe it, she has not told me who she is travelling with.”

  He turned over some of his papers.

  “See for yourself,” he said and handed Sadira’s note to the Earl.

  The Earl took it to the window and read it with his back to the Marquis.

  To her father Sadira had written,

  “Dearest Papa,

  You left earlier last night than I expected and I did not have a chance to tell you that I have been asked to go to Paris early tomorrow morning with some friends of mine. I thought it a marvellous opportunity to buy some beautiful gowns for my trousseau, which I am afraid will be somewhat expensive.

  I know you will understand that I want to look my best to please Norwin’s family, who have been so sweet and kind to me.

  I have therefore taken some money from your secret safe, which I hope you will not mind.

  Take good care of yourself, dearest Papa.

  You know that I love you and will miss you all the time I am away.

  Goodbye.

  Your loving daughter,

  Sadira.”

  The Earl read the note through slowly and carefully and then once again.

  It was just what he expected.

  At the same time it was a blow since it gave him no more information than he had already which was virtually negligible.

  He walked back to the desk.

  “As you say,” he remarked to the Marquis, “there is no address and I suppose you have no idea who these friends might be, my Lord?”

  “I am afraid not,” the Marquis answered. “It may be somewhat remiss of me, but in fact I have not met many of Sadira’s friends since she left her Finishing School.”

  The Earl then thought that it would be a mistake to press him any further, so instead he suggested,

  “Well, I am sure she will write to me as soon as she reaches Paris and, if you receive a letter in the meantime, perhaps you will let me know, my Lord.”

  “Of course I will,” the Marquis promised.

  “It is worrying that she should have been so foolish as not to leave more details, but I expect she was in a hurry to pack. I have learned from my butler that she had already left the house before her lady’s maid called her.”

  The Earl thought this was no help either.

  He then forced himself to talk briefly about other matters before he went back to his carriage, which was waiting outside.

  As the horses were turning round, he had an idea.

  Yesterday on the way home from the luncheon, Sadira had stopped to call on a friend in Belgrave Square,

  She might well be one of the friends who she had left England with.

  At least it was an idea that was worth exploring.

  He therefore drove to 29 Belgrave Square and asked to see Miss Bourne.

  He was shown by the butler into a sitting room on the ground floor and waited only a few minutes before Anne came in.

  She had been informed by the butler who her caller was and the Earl could see by the expression on her face that she was surprised to see him alone.

  Before he could introduce himself, she asked him,

  “Is Sadira not with you, my Lord?”

  “No,” the Earl replied. “I have come to ask for your help because Sadira has left London and not given me the address of where she was going.”

  “Left London?” Anne exclaimed. “She said nothing about leaving when she came to see me here yesterday!”

  “I think she has gone to the country,” the Earl said, “but I have no idea if she is coming back tonight or tomorrow. I am arranging a luncheon party and I wish to be in touch with her immediately.”

  “Oh!” Anne answered him. “Then I expect she has gone to Langbourne Hall. If so, I am sure it is because she wants to see Swallow, her horse, and Bracken, her dog. Her stepmother will not let her take them with her in London and I know how greatly she misses both of them.”

  “Then I certainly hope she will be back this evening,” the Earl said, “but I just wondered if she had said anything about her movements to you.”

  “No, she came to see me about Father Christopher,” Anne replied.

  She saw by the expression in the Earl’s eyes that the name meant nothing to him and she explained,

  “Father Christopher is a famous Medical Missionary whom Mama has been helping with his fundraising. He has been doing miraculous healing work in Africa, and is leaving today for Morocco. Both Sadira and I promised to collect some money to help him in his work.”

  “That is very kind of both of you and, of course, I would like to contribute.”

  Anne smiled.

  “That is most generous, my Lord, but I thought it was your money that Sadira said she was taking to Father Christopher before he left.”

  “You say he is leaving today?” the Earl questioned.

  Anne looked at the clock.

  “He will have gone by now. Some of Mama’s friends were seeing him off at Tilbury Docks. His ship was sailing at ten o’clock. I suppose that now Sadira and I will have to send the money we have collected for him on to Morocco.”

  “I am sure if you give it to the Moroccan Embassy it will reach him safely,” the Earl commented.

  “Mama can arrange all that,” Anne answered lightly, “and please ask Sadira to come as soon as she can to tell me how much she has collected.”

  “I will and thank you for your help, Miss Beecham.”

  “I am afraid I have not been that helpful,” Anne said, “but if you are giving a party tonight, I am sure that Sadira would not want to miss it.”

  The Earl said ‘goodbye’ to her and drove as fast as he could straight to Tilbury Docks. It took him some time because the traffic was heavy through the narrow streets of the City.

  As soon as he arrived, he began questioning the Tilbury Docks Officials.

  He learned that a cargo-ship, The Idris, had left Tilbury for Tangier punctually at ten o’clock that evening and aboard it had been the celebrated Medical Missionary known as ‘Father Christopher’.

  In addition the Earl asked if they had knowledge of the other passengers travelling on The Idris and all he could learn was that it was carrying a cargo of wood and was registered in Tangier.

  The Captain was a Scotsman, but most of the crew were Arabs.

  “There are not many English travellers aboard a cargo boat as a rule,” one Official told him. “The cabins are often full with Africans wishing to live in England when they arrive here. But going back there’s usually only a handful of people making the voyage which, as you might imagine, my Lord, is somewhat uncomfortable.”

  “That is rather what I expected,” the Earl replied.

  He was thinking about it all the way back to Kensall House.

  He was convinced that Sadira had sailed that morning on The Idris and had somehow entailed herself onto th
is Father Christopher. There was no proof of it, but his instinct told him for certain that it was so.

  And how was it possible for anyone who had always lived a life of luxury to tolerate the discomfort of a cargo ship?

  Or indeed the sort of people who Sadira would encounter on such a journey?

  He was well aware that men of Arab blood were greatly attracted to women with fair hair and white skins.

  He found himself clenching his fists at the thought of what might happen to Sadira on such a hazardous voyage.

  Then he remembered that Father Christopher was a Missionary and he could only hope and pray that he would look after her effectively.

  *

  Sadira reached Tilbury Docks as she had hoped a little before eight o’clock.

  The roads were clear and the two excellent horses pulling the carriage made the journey in plenty of time.

  When they arrived, Britan made enquiries as to which quay they would find The Idris moored to and they drove towards it.

  Because it was still so early in the morning, Sadira saw with relief that there was no sign of Lady Beecham’s friends.

  There were only men stacking heavy planks of wood onto the deck of a large, dirty and dilapidated-looking cargo ship.

  Britan called to a boy who was lounging about on the quayside to come and hold his horses.

  Then he jumped down himself to open the carriage door for Sadira.

  “Be this the ship you be a-sailin’ on, my Lady?” he asked. “It don’t seem the right place for a lady like you.”

  “It’s going to Tangier,” Sadira said, “and I only hope that they will have a cabin for me.”

  “Do you mean as you ain’t booked one?” Britan enquired.

  “No, I have not,” Sadira admitted.

  “Then you’d best let me do the talkin’ for you,” Britan suggested. “I don’t trust them Arabs not to sting you. They don’t understand that we don’t bargain in this country.”

  Sadira suddenly felt helpless.

  It was one thing to think that she could run away and disappear forever with Father Christopher. It was quite another to be confronted with what was very far from her idea of a passenger ship.

  It had never struck her that the crew would be Arabs. She could see them working and she knew that they had little respect for women.

  There was every chance now that, having come as far as this, she might have to go home again.

  On an impulse she turned to Britan,

  “Please – help me! I am travelling with a Missionary called – Father Christopher. He is not here yet – and actually he does not – know that I am – going with him.”

  Britan stared at her in surprise.

  Then he said,

  “I suppose you knows what you’re a-doin’, my Lady, but it just don’t sound right to me!”

  “Please – don’t keep calling me ‘my Lady’,” Sadira said quickly. “I have been thinking as we came here that I would call myself by my own name, but without my title and spelling it differently. You understand that I don’t want anybody to be able to trace me here.”

  “I thinks as ’ow you be runnin’ away,” Britan answered, “and I only ’opes it’s with some nice gentleman as’ll look after you.”

  “No, Britan, I am going on my own,” Sadira stressed firmly. “I have – to go so please – please help me.”

  She sounded so pathetic and so Britan stopped arguing and lifted her canvas bags out of the carriage.

  He put them down on the ground and then said to the small boy who was standing by the horses,

  “Now you keep ’old of them ’orses for me and see they don’t move. I’ll pay you for your pains when I comes back.”

  “I’ll take extra good care of them,” the boy promised. “I likes ’orses.”

  He was patting both of them as he spoke.

  As if Britan sensed that he could trust him, he walked off without saying anything more to him.

  Carrying Sadira’s bags, he climbed up the gangplank.

  Sadira followed him as he pushed through a door that led to the ship’s accommodation.

  There was a room with a dirty glass window that Sadira knew on a larger vessel would indicate the Purser’s Office.

  Britan walked up to it. There was no sign of anyone and he knocked on the door with his fist, asking loudly,

  “Be there anyone at ’ome ’ere?”

  An unshaven man who was obviously an Arab appeared from the back to say in broken English,

  “Captain on bridge. What you want?”

  “I wants a cabin for this lady,” Britan replied, “and it ’ad better be a good ’un.”

  The Arab found a torn piece of paper and on it was marked a number of squares, which obviously represented the cabins of the cargo ship.

  Some had a cross on them, which told Sadira that they were already engaged.

  The Arab was looking for a pen and she whispered to Britan,

  “Ask where Father Christopher is sleeping.”

  He nodded and, when the Arab came back, he asked him,

  “This lady’s workin’ with Father Christopher and wants to be next to him. Where’s ’is cabin then?”

  The Arab pointed with his finger to a square that appeared to be on the upper deck.

  “Then the lady’ll ’ave the one next to ’im.” Britan persisted.

  “That cabin for two,” the Arab replied.

  Britan was about to ask for a single cabin when Sadira said to him again in a whisper,

  “I will pay for a double cabin if it means I can have one to myself.”

  It was then the bargaining began.

  The Arab clearly understood English better than he could speak it. He answered in monosyllables and yet he was very sure of what he wanted.

  Sadira could see that Britan had been right in his assumption that the man would ask far more than he expected finally to receive.

  At last, after much haggling and waving of arms, they came to a compromise.

  Sadira produced the money, which the Arab grabbed quickly.

  It told her that, although Britan had beaten him down, she was still paying more than the going rate.

  The Arab came out of the Office and took them along a narrow passage and Sadira was beginning to be apprehensive of what she might be confronted with.

  To her relief, however, when the cabin door was opened it was small but clean. It was not an inside cabin and had a porthole so she could see the sea.

  The two bunks took up most of the room with only a very narrow space between them.

  She was just about to say that she was content with the cabin when Britan exclaimed,

  “There be nothin’ on them beds! What about blankets?”

  The Arab grinned.

  “You pay,” he snapped.

  And once again they were haggling.

  But before they had gone very far, Britan insisted that he should see the blankets.

  The Arab went from the cabin and beckoned.

  “You stay ’ere,” Britan said to Sadira, “and leave this to me.”

  He went away and Sadira sat down on one of the bunks.

  She thought how foolish she had been as she should have noticed that, while both bunks had coarse straw mattresses on them, there were no pillows or blankets.

  Nor were there any rugs on the rough wooden floor.

  She sat stiffly on one of the bunks and waited for Britan and the Arab to return.

  There was the spasmodic sound of the men stacking wood in the hold and shouting to each other as they did so.

  Suddenly she began to feel frightened.

  Was she really brave enough, she now asked herself, to carry out her plan and leave England never to return?

  Would it not be better to marry the Earl?

  Then she thought of her stepmother and that anything would be better than being aware of the hatred that vibrated towards her every time she saw her stepmother.

  It would be preferable even
to be alone and defenceless in an Arab City or to have to sleep on a filthy bed infested with vermin.

  She was deep in her thoughts when Britan and the Arab returned to the cabin only a short time later.

  He was smiling and carrying two blankets while the Arab held two others in his arms and they seemed to be reasonably clean and presentable.

  The Arab threw them down on one of the bunks.

  Sadira held out some money towards Britan and he took it from her and then passed it on to the Arab.

  It must have been to his satisfaction, because he beamed and even made Sadira a slight salaam before he left the cabin.

  “Thank you for doing all that for me, I could not have handled myself,” Sadira said to Britan. “It was clever of you to notice that there were no blankets on the bunks.”

  “They ain’t got no sheets, but them blankets be new and well washed. Some of what ’e showed me I wouldn’t let a dog sleep on!”

  “I am very grateful,” Sadira sighed.

  “They didn’t ’ave no pillows either,” Britan went on, “so I got you an extra blanket as you can roll up and put under your ’ead. You’ll be quite comfortable like that.”

  “I am sure I shall be,” Sadira replied. “And thank you, thank you very much again. I could not have – done it without – you.”

  She then pressed some money into his hand. She had doubled what she had originally intended to give him before they started out.

  He thanked her and turned towards the door.

  “You take good care of yourself,” he advised, “and if things don’t work out, come ’ome. I never did trust these ’ere foreigners! And I wouldn’t trust this lot any further than I could throw ’em!”

  “I will be – all right,” Sadira answered, “and thank you once again.”

  She held out her hand and Britan shook it.

  “God bless you, my Lady, and, if you asks me, you’ll really need Him lookin’ after you on this ’ere trip of yours.”

  When he had gone, Sadira closed the cabin door.

  She went over to the porthole hoping that she would be able to see the quay and she found that she could see at least part of it.

  Since she had come on board she realised that quite a number of other people had now arrived.

  Sadira was not certain whether they were passengers or seamen getting the ship ready for the voyage.