The Maharani's Pearls Read Online Free

room.
    Someone near the window whirled, and I saw the muzzle of a revolver pointed straight
     at me before my mother realized who was there and lowered it.
    “Bess!” The word was little more than a hiss.
    I crawled over to her, and she held my hand as I told her what the sergeant had said.
     “But you can’t go out there, or he’ll have two hostages. And that’s worse.”
    Mother nodded, then it was her turn to put her finger to her lips, just as Miss Stewart
     called again.
    Mother raised her voice. “I’m afraid. I’m too afraid,” she cried, and it was strange
     to hear a woman holding a revolver pleading fear.
    “Please, you must,” Miss Stewart begged.
    “Where’s my daughter? I want to know where she is—­if she’s safe. I won’t come out
     until I know she’s all right.” Her voice was quavering nearly as badly as Miss Stewart’s,
     but my mother’s eyes were angry, her face set.
    “I—­I don’t know where she is,” Miss Stewart said. “I sent her to her room.”
    “She’s not there. Don’t lie to me. I won’t move from here. Her room is empty, I tell
     you!”
    “Please, don’t worry about her, Mrs. Crawford. Come out, now, or he’ll kill me.”
    I crawled away, back to the study. There was still one soldier there, watching events
     in the summerhouse. He motioned for me to be careful, and after a moment I joined
     him at the window. Looking out, I thought my governess was on the verge of collapse.
     Her face was pale, her hands shaking as she held them down against her skirts.
    “I can’t trust you, if you won’t tell me where my child is,” Mother was saying.
    A hand on my shoulder nearly made me leap out of my skin.
    It was Simon, and he was breathing hard, as if he’d been running.
    “Tell me what’s happening.”
    I gave him a very brief account. He nodded. “Stay here. Count to ten, and then start
     crying for your mother.”
    I wanted to argue, but he was gone, slipping like a shadow out of the room. But where
     was my father? If Simon was here, he wouldn’t be very far away.
    I counted to ten, then raised my voice and began to cry. “I’m here, Mother, I’m here,
     what’s happened to Miss Stewart? Where’s my father? What’s happening?”
    Just then another voice crossed over mine. It came from the far corner of the verandah,
     I was sure of it.
    “Major Crawford here,” it said, but it wasn’t my father speaking. It was Simon, although
     he sounded very much like my father. “I’m unarmed. Let her go and I’ll come out.”
    I could see Miss Stewart’s head turn as if she were listening to instructions from
     whomever it was holding her hostage.
    “You must come out first,” she said then. “He won’t let me go until he sees you’re
     unarmed.”
    Very clever, I thought. We now knew there was only one man in that summerhouse.
    My mother’s voice, seemingly filled with fright, called, “Richard? Please, don’t do
     it. Don’t step out. He’ll kill you, and Miss Stewart as well.”
    Simon, still speaking as if he were my father, said, “Can’t you see that poor woman
     is about to faint? Let her go, and I’ll do anything you ask.”
    Almost in that same instant, Miss Stewart went down in what appeared to be a dead
     faint, and Simon must have stepped out into the open. Out of the corner of my eye,
     I saw him standing there, unarmed just as he’d said. My heart turned over, and I heard
     my mother gasp.
    I saw the man in the summerhouse rise to his feet, leveling his revolver. But before
     he could fire a single shot, another one rang out and the man went down.
    Simon went bounding into the summerhouse, bending over, reaching out for something.
     Then I saw him pocket a revolver. He turned to Miss Stewart, but she was already sitting
     up, a weak smile on her face. My father came sliding down from the banyan tree near
     the wall. I saw his boots before the rest of him appeared, and his revolver was still
     in his hand. Using Simon as a decoy