He continued. 'They are—business arrangements with Chinese and men with connections to the East that are not only dubious, but may conceal truly illegal acts." He contrived to look very earnest, a trifle worried, and completely honest and open. "Miss Hawkins, I must admit that I have no evidence of the sort that one would take to an authority, but if I were you, I would think very seriously about my situation. These are the things that alarm me. Cameron has dealings with Chinese merchants of doubtful reputation. He has in his employ in his townhouse in the city a man of hardened mien who still has contacts in India and beyond. His townhouse itself stands dangerously near that terrible district known as the 'Barbary Coast.' And it is his habit to hire young women with few or no living relations; women who would not be missed if they suddenly were to vanish. And in addition I fear he is, in his illness, becoming extremely dependent upon opium and similar drugs. At the least, this impairs his judgment, and at the worst, it puts him in the power of those who supply such things. Remember what infamous activities this city is noted for, and please, be wary. Recall my promise to help you, if need be. I still have many worthy friends in the city, honest and honorable men you could trust without a second thought."
It was all she could do to keep from laughing out loud. Did he really, truly believe her to be so very gullible? Did he believe she would so easily forget how he had acted toward her when she first arrived? To hide her twitching lips, she looked away, as if profoundly embarrassed. "I shall," she said. It seemed to satisfy him, and he went on his way after an earnest glance of deep concern.
She sat down on her favorite bench with her book clasped in both hands, thinking the encounter through. Should I tell Jason about this conversation? In the light of day, all of her fears of last night seemed foolish, the childish nonsense of a woman terrified by imaginary burglars under the bed and the scratching of twigs upon the window. She had decided not to say anything at all to Cameron of the plots and machinations her imagination had ascribed to du Mond. Why bother? There was not the slightest scrap of evidence, and she wanted to impress Cameron with her sense. Such nonsense would only annoy him.
But it seemed that du Mond had an imagination that was just as active.
She sat so still that one of the little birds landed on the back of the bench beside her, preened itself carefully, and then flew off.
She could hardly imagine the staff of the townhouse being involved in white slavery—but she also recalled that they did not at all care for du Mond, and the antipathy may have been mutual. It was always easy to ascribe a sinister purpose to someone you did not like—well, look at all the plots she had laid up on du Mond's doorstep last night!
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to measure just how many of du Mond's accusations were true. There was no doubt that Jason did have dealings with less-than-savory merchants in town, Chinese and otherwise. He made no secret of that. He was a businessman, and one who cared very little about the morals of those he dealt with, although Rose found such an attitude reprehensible. So du Mond was right, in that much.
He was also correct in saying that Cameron was using far too much in the way of opiates. She had seen as much for herself, last night, in the number of pills he had planned to take before she intervened. Even Master Pao had known that he was in trouble so far as narcotics went—probably because he had relatives and informants all over China-town, which would be where Cameron got most of his opium and opium derivatives. And as for Cameron's propensity for hiring young women who would not be missed, she had only du Monds word on that....
But I am one such, and it is logical to think that there are others in his employ who could answer that description. There are far, far more men in San Francisco than women, even at this modern date, and those women who travel here are often those who seek their fortunes even as the men seek theirs, because they have no family ties to hold them, or family resources to fall back on.
She opened her eyes again, and licked her lips. It could be that du Mond was trying to frighten her into seeking his aid in escaping this place, for sinister reasons of his own. Then again, du Mond could simply wish her out of the house so that he alone had access to Cameron, and Cameron became totally dependent on him for his contact with the outside world.
She did not need to attribute sinister plans to him. His motive could be very, very simple, and that of any man hoping to preserve his position—drive her away so that circumstances returned to the way they had been before she arrived. He might even have sensed that he was about to be replaced in the Master's service as an Apprentice, but whether or not he did, he could hardly have missed the fact that he was not the only human in the house anymore!
So he sees me as an interloper and wants to be rid of me. A human and common enough motive! And nothing I need ascribe to sinister machinations. Who knows but what he may actually have those respectable 'friends" he claims he has, who would be willing to help me find other employment. Well, why not? If she were as ignorant of the real situation as du Mond supposed, and if she were to find a better position than this one, she would never bother going back, now, would she? It was in du Mond's purely mundane interest to help her find good employment elsewhere.
No, she was attributing far too much to him and to his intelligence. There was no point in telling Cameron about this—unless she could find a way to do so that would amuse him and lighten his spirits.
Poor man! He could certainly use all the help he could get in that regard, as in so many others.
She relaxed, and settled down to read her book, grateful that du Mond had not seen it closely, for it was Cameron's own journal-cum-Workbook of his first year as an Apprentice. She had found it on her bedside table this morning, brought there, no doubt, by a Salamander. She did not know if Cameron himself had sent it, or if that one extraordinarily intelligent Salamander had taken it upon himself to bring it to her, but in either case it was proving to be enlightening in many ways.
There was not a great deal that was personal in this journal, and what there was did not tell her a great deal. She formed a vague notion of an extremely intelligent child, quite a lone wolf, who spent no time in the company of children his own age. Well, he was hardly alone in that respect; most highly intelligent children were isolated by their very intelligence.
I was, for instance. She had been shunned by other girls her age for being a "bookworm," which hardly mattered, since she had never found their games of much interest. I had more entertainment out of re-enacting the beheading of Mary Queen of Scots with my dolls than of playing at "house." And when I dressed them, I made miniature costumes of various historical periods rather than the latest fashions!
Cameron had actually begun his work as a formal Apprentice at the age of thirteen, and even at that young age his penmanship had been impeccable. The one thing that this book had that others she had read had lacked was the reason behind every exercise that young Jason had been assigned. Evidently his own Master had been very meticulous about outlining the rhyme and reason behind the most trivial of Magickal exercises, and Jason had been just as meticulous about writing them down. The result of this was a very thorough education in the Magick of Fire, indeed, of Magick in general, and the equivalent of having a Master at her elbow to explain everything.