She made it sound more like a sentence of death than a compliment. Her piercing black eyes accented the pronouncement. Most people were made uncomfortable by her relentless stare but Younghusband found it exhilarating. Nothing impressed a spiritualist more than worldly accomplishment.
"I'm glad it stopped raining," he said. "Reminded me of those bloody downpours in Lhasa."
"We will have a still night."
"Would you like to see the room I've prepared for the sйance?"
The black eyes danced in the old head. "I'd rather meet your wife first."
While they had been talking, Mrs. Younghusband began to play the piano at the end of the hall. That meant she had put the children to bed for the evening. Notes of Chopin beckoned to the warriors.
"This is a proud day for me," said the general, "the first time you'll meet my wife."
HPB took him by the arm in an uncharacteristically feminine gesture. "Will you tell her that I'm a notorious Russian spy?"
Neither laughed. Over the years she had been accused of everything. For a time it had seemed that she would not recover from charges by Richard Hodgson of the Society for Psychical Research that she had ingratiated herself with the Third Section of Russian intelligence. She was just too Russian for Whitehall to trust her! But with Theosophical chapters in every capital of Europe, she had been convincing when announcing herself as a citizen of the world.
Further complicating matters was that she was of mixed parentage, German as well as Russian. Various German admirers hinted that they, too, wished to play the Great Game. What side was she really on?
British doubts evaporated when Younghusband released to the press how information from Madame Blavatsky saved him from an assassin during military operations in Lhasa in 04. As he walked down the long hallway of his ostentatiously large house, the general reflected in this safe and secure year of 1910 how much he truly owed to this crazy Russian mystic on his arm.
At the beginning of the Tibetan expedition, things had not been going well. The thirteenth Dalai Lama proved deficient as a political strategist. Only twenty-eight years old at the time, he had paid too much credence in the prophesy of one of his magicians that 1904, the Year of the Wood Dragon, would see a series of events culminating in the destruction of Tibet.
No stranger to the Great Game, the young leader placed his hopes with the czar to protect him against the British Empire. So when Colonel Younghusband began his military entry into Lhasa, the Dalai Lama and a small party escaped to the north. Their destination was Mongolia. Left behind was another lama to negotiate as regent-a sharp operator by the name of Tri Rimpoche.
Madame Blavatsky's intervention did more than save an eager colonel's life. She saved his career and changed the nature of the mission.
Her spy network was not part of Russian intelligence. The Theosophy movement had agents, too! HPB had friends and allies among Buddhists and Hindus because of the many points of convergence between her system and the Eastern religions. Weirdly enough, she even made converts from their ranks!
She learned that the Russians had no intention of coming to the Dalai Lama's aid. Shouting Cossack oaths at the British Empire was one thing; but close scrutiny of a good map showed that the British only needed a few thousand men to stop a Russian force of any size emanating from Lhasa. So why worry about Lhasa? The mountain passes were so narrow that it was a defender's dream.
And then the Chinese made everything really complicated. Ironically, the Russian agent Zerempil tried to kill the daring colonel as part of a mission to prevent China moving into eastern Tibet. The idea was that removing Younghusband also meant removing a challenge to General Chao Her-feng. Since Zerempil died instead, there was no way of testing his thesis. Zerempil never bothered to consider the possibility that Younghusband's death might just as readily embolden the Chinese.
As General Younghusband opened the door that would bring his wife face to face with the person who had done so much to shape his destiny, he appreciated that his honored guest's cigar had gone out. There were many small miracles and mercies in this vale of tears.
The pale young woman stopped playing the piano.
"Dear, this is Madame Blavatsky."
The older woman took the younger woman's hands in hers and spoke softly. "You are a gorgeous creature. I'm not surprised to learn that the source of such beautiful playing is herself beautiful."
Younghusband had never seen his wife blush at the words of another woman before. Her long swan's neck turned ever so slightly as if she half expected HPB to kiss her. It appeared that Madame had made another conquest.
The general didn't need a sйance to take him back to the day when Blavatsky convinced him that she did indeed possess occult powers. How else could she tell him where to find the exact place and moment in the Tibetan wilderness where bandits had set upon the Dalai Lama and his party?
The leader of Tibet was enough of a mystic to recognize a good omen when it rescued him! The British expeditionary force changed history that day.
"My husband promises an interesting evening," said Mrs. Younghusband, bringing her better half back to the present moment.
Blavatsky allowed herself a chuckle and released her prey. "How else can it be when I am here?" she summed up with her usual modesty.
But HPB was in an expansive mood and left her favorite topic to return to complimenting others. "Mrs. Younghusband, you are a most aesthetic young lady. It could not be otherwise with your fine breeding. Blood will tell."
Unable to tear herself away from the old lady's devil eyes, she blushed again and said, "Thank you, Countess."
HPB winked at her host. "You've told her about my background. All true mystics have aristocracy in their past even if their modern circumstances are reduced to that of a beggar." As an afterthought, she added, "Great generals are reincarnations of earlier generals."
Before anyone could say Alexander the Great, they were all saved by a knocking at the door. The butler, Robert Weber the Silent, was as quiet as God's breath. The new arrival followed his example. So it was as if Tri Rimpoche materialized in the waiting room-a special envoy from the Dalai Lama.
There was a twinkle in the man's eye as he took the general by the hand and said, "Sahib."
The general laughed. "My house is honored by your presence."
HPB shocked all present by speaking words never vouchsafed by her Secret Masters: "Thank you for coming such a long way."
He bowed. "I could not deny you, Madame. Are we all here?"
"Two more are expected," volunteered their hostess.
Tri Rimpoche's dark complexion seemed to draw in more of the shadows from the flickering candles than his companions. Perhaps he had an affinity with the flame.
Slowly he removed his green gloves and passed them to Weber. "I must say, HPB, you are looking remarkably well."
"Blame it on Tibetan barley," she replied. "I once had a premonition that I was to die in 1891 but my Master spoke to me and said I had a duty to live until 1910. So perhaps my life is the greatest proof of the supernatural I can offer."
"That, and your cigars," added Younghusband.
"How did you come to rely on such an unusual diet?" inquired the hostess.
"From Dorzhiev, a good Russian who loved Tibet. He died during the war, unfortunately."
"The war," echoed Mrs. Younghusband. "If we are going to discuss all that, it will be more agreeable with refreshments."
So saying, she ushered them past heavy curtains into the parlor proper. Suddenly she stopped, embarrassed. "Oh my, I forgot. Is it premature to show the preparations beforehand?"
Blavatsky waved away all objections. "No more so than to serve spirits before I commune with the spirit world! It's all right with me. I've reached the point where I am past the rigamarole. The Secret Masters of Tibet taught me to see through the illusion of our immediate surroundings. I could just as easily conduct a sйance out under the stars."