Read Ebook: A Bottle in the Smoke: A Tale of Anglo-Indian Life by Rae Janet Milne

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Ebook has 1538 lines and 99354 words, and 31 pages

Mark's eyes were directed to where the light from one of the oil lamps, planted at intervals along the road, fell on the face of the foot-passenger, a face which instantly attracted him because of a certain wistful, expectant look it wore.

"I think he expects a word of apology, Rayner," he said again.

"Well, he shan't have it, that's all," said his companion shortly. "He needn't have been out on foot at this hour. He's got a carriage to drive in! He deserves to be run down. Bah, he's only a half-caste, after all!"

There was something so offensive in his tone and suggestion that Mark was for a moment struck dumb.

Mistaking his silence, Rayner added, in a patronising tone: "You're taking offence at what I've been saying, old chap. I assure you it's for your good!"

"Well, perhaps your cure will be best brought about by coming out here, after all! You'll get disillusioned fast enough. Mark my words, I shall enjoy watching the process! A vile, low set are these Eurasians--as they like to be called. Now look here, Cheveril, I'll make a compact with you. Watch these crawling creatures for six months in silence, without disclosing your connection with them, and at the end of that time I'll give you leave to proclaim yourself an East Indian!"

"Thanks, Rayner, you mean kindly, I've no doubt, but I cannot enter into such a compact with you or any man. Not that I'm vain enough to take it for granted that all the world is so interested in me or my forebears as to think it necessary to descant on them at every market cross, but truth and honour must be our shield and buckler," observed Mark in an earnest tone.

It was too dark for him to see the sardonic smile that crossed his companion's face, as he muttered to himself: "High-flown young fool! But I must at once annex Hester, so that I may preserve him as a useful friend in that Puranapore business. I must write to Zynool and tell him to win over the young cub, by hook or by crook, before he cuts his teeth!"

The handsome Australians were now dashing along the avenue, and halted before the broad white flight of steps of the house in Clive's Road, which in the dusk looked a genuine marble palace. Its portico of chunam pillars was gleaming like the purest white Carrara. Lamps twinkled everywhere, for its owner liked a display of light. Through the many open windows of the large dining-room one could see the dinner table, with its tall silver lamps, artistic arrangement of flowers, and elegant furnishings, round which white-robed servants flitted.

Among the gleaming pillars of the verandah stood the lady of the house clad in shimmering white, with the red water-lilies at her breast and a joyful smile on her red lips.

"A humble abode, Rayner? Say rather a palace!" said Mark, springing from the mail-phaeton.

"Well, a palace if you like," returned his host with the pride of possession in his eyes. "And there stands my princess!"

"I think you are most inconsiderate, Hester, to take Cheveril to that squalid suburb when he might be playing tennis with the fair Clarice at the Adyar," Mr. Rayner was saying, as his wife and their guest stood in the verandah preparing for an early morning drive.

"Except for three reasons you might call me 'inconsiderate,' Alfred," replied Hester, smiling. "First, Mark promised he would go and see Mrs. Fellowes this morning; second, he does not like tennis; and third, Royapooram isn't a squalid suburb, but one of the most picturesque military cantonments."

Her husband watched them as they drove away, then slowly returned to his darkened writing room.

"Wish they hadn't been bound for Mrs. Fellowes'," he muttered. "She affects Eurasians, I know, and Cheveril may meet some of those detestable creatures I particularly wish him to avoid. Pity I didn't give Hester a hint in time!"

Meanwhile, the landau was carrying the pair along the leafy roads towards the sea, and soon it was threading its way by the crowded First Line Beach full of bustling commercial activity. Great droves of muscular coolies were pushing loads which good British dray horses would not lightly have tackled; but the strong shiny brown limbs, made supple by frequent oilings, seemed to have no difficulty in dragging their burdens, which they did with unconscious grace, and even with cheerfulness, judging from the resonant chorus of shouts. One side of the sea front was given up to shipping in all its varieties, while the other was lined by many-hued buildings, some so evidently of the Georgian period that one did not need to glance at the date above their Greek-pillared porticos. They were intersected by higher parti-coloured buildings of chunam, and except for one or two hotels, all given up to business purposes of varying degrees of importance. Against the substantial blocks were huddled some ramshackle erections which had evidently seen better days, but which were now fast sinking into godowns for storage, their peeling fa?ades lending picturesqueness to the street scene on which Mark was looking with keen interest.

Now the carriage was nearing the lines of the Native Infantry. Not far from them stood various detached bungalows, surrounded by compounds, where the officers sojourned, with a sprinkling of other residents who liked this suburb so near the sea. Clusters of low, thatched, mud villages, with enclosures of bamboo, where semi-nude children crawled about like sandhoppers, nestled under the groups of tall feathery palms which, Mark had noticed, seemed to dip into the sparkling waters of the ocean.

Colonel Fellowes, commanding officer of the sepoy regiment, occupied one of the pleasantest houses in Royapooram. It was a much less pretentious abode than the Rayner's house in Clive's Road, for the suburb was old and unfashionable, but its compound wore a snug social air which made it look more like a home garden, Mark thought, as he followed Hester to the house.

Mrs. Fellowes was specially delighted to see her young friend as a proof that she had not suffered from her slip on the treacherous steps of the tank. She welcomed Mark with cordiality, introducing him to her husband, a tall spare man of bony frame with a simple earnest face, bronzed by the suns of many hot weathers on Indian plains where he had trained his sepoys and loved them like children.

"Yes, the Colonel and I like to think of our bungalow as a cottage with roses looking in at the window," Mrs. Fellowes was saying, as Mark, with the keen eye of the new-comer, commented on the home-like attributes of the bungalow with its trellised verandah, where creepers twined their graceful tendrils, and roses and wisteria climbed up its amber-coloured walls and pillars. "But I hope we shan't make the mistake of some Anglo-Indians and try to reproduce it at home."

"I believe you are right, Mrs. Fellowes," returned Mark. "My father's people happen to live in Shropshire, not far from Styche Hall, Clive's birthplace, and I always regretted he should have replaced the old black-timbered house by a mansion with verandahs."

"Yes," said Colonel Fellowes, who had joined them, "I once made a pilgrimage to see that house--Clive being one of my heroes. We should have worshipped that simple black-timbered house if it had still been extant. All the same, the present one isn't the gorgeous palace Macaulay would have us believe. Poor Clive, he was much maligned, as many of the makers of India have been! What would the Carnatic, for instance, be now, but for Clive? A tiger jungle--only the tigers two-footed instead of four, and tearing each other to bits!"

"The result has been good, certainly," replied Mark, "but are you sure it was not the hungry mouth of the rapacious West, craving for pepper and cardamoms, and hankering after the fabled gold and gems of Hindustan, that brought the white men? Remember he came as a suppliant trader to these shores and first begged for crumbs!"

"But Mrs. Rayner used to be a keen horsewoman," said Mark, recalling vividly some pleasant rides in Worcestershire lanes.

"Well, strange as it may seem, he has an unaccountable prejudice against riding, though he is a good whip and has several pairs of fine Arabs besides the two Walers. I begged him, if he wouldn't come himself, to let Mrs. Rayner ride of a morning with my wife. She was most keen, but he wouldn't hear of it. Selfish, I call it! She is so charming, quite the nicest of our brides this season," added the colonel, his eyes following Hester's slender figure as she strolled along the lawn walk with his wife.

Mark fully endorsed his remark though he did so silently, inwardly commenting on the personal note which all conversation seemed to take in his new social surroundings. He had observed it on the previous evening when more than one of those to whom he had been introduced made comments more frank than friendly concerning his future chief and others which, in home circles, would have been considered somewhat out of taste. Perhaps it was a trait of this Anglo-Indian society, bred of the narrowness of its range of topics. It was perforce illuminating to a new-comer, though he felt that the suggestion of selfishness in Hester's husband was painful when he recalled the parting words of her mother on the Pinkthorpe Rectory. "We would fain that Hester had chosen one of whom we knew more than Alfred Rayner. As her father says, he is still an unknown quantity. In fact, the dear child's choice was too hurried. You will do much to reassure us, Mark, if you can tell us that the man of her choice is strong to lean on, tender and true!"

Even already from his few hours' acquaintance, Mark felt by no means sure that he could banish Mrs. Bellairs' anxiety by the assurance for which she longed. There seemed to him a curious hardness about Rayner, combined with a lack of manliness, making visible shallow ambitions. He wore them "on his sleeve" in fact, and Colonel Fellowes had not far to probe in putting his finger on such weaknesses. But Mark hoped that Hester had not discovered any such flaws, and he desired, brother-like, to shield her from the knowledge of them. Rayner could hardly live beside one so true and sweet as she was without being influenced for good. Whenever he could get release from his duties at Puranapore he would surely be able to trace her ennobling influence on her husband, and till then he must forbear to sound any note of trouble to the anxious mother far away.

"Ah, here comes someone we don't see every day," exclaimed Mrs. Fellowes, going forward to greet a visitor who came slowly along the shady walk. He was a man about Colonel Fellowes' age, tall but not so erect and with less broad shoulders. His face was not so bronzed as the soldier's, but his skin had a more withered look, and there was a pathetic light about his deep, penetrating grey eyes. The curves of his thin lips betokened a settled sadness, though his face lit up with a rarely pleasant smile as he returned Mrs. Fellowes' greeting.

"Welcome, Mr. Morpeth, you are a sight for 'sair een,' as my old Scots aunt used to put it."

Mark was more than astonished at the cordiality of Mrs. Fellowes' greeting when he recognised in the visitor the man whom the restive Australians of the mail-phaeton had almost trampled under foot, and whom Alfred Rayner had characterised as a "greasy half-caste." On the first opportunity he asked his hostess the name of the guest.

"David Morpeth," she replied, "a man whom we are proud to know, though he is an East Indian," she added, lowering her voice. "You know--or perhaps you don't know yet--what an inveterate prejudice there is against these people. I always say that David Morpeth would redeem a nation; he lives and toils for his despised people, pours out his money and his life for them, often, I fear, with very poor return. He has even enlisted me, and we have started one or two things together. I must add, that though Mr. Morpeth is of that despised mixed blood, he is really personally much respected here; but he declines social advances from any quarter, so my husband and I feel honoured when he puts in one of his rare appearances. Besides, I value the little change for the dear man from the toils of those wretched people."

"I should like to be introduced to Mr. Morpeth, if you don't mind," said Mark eagerly.

Mrs. Fellowes, with a pleased air, led the way to the shade of a tamarind tree where the helper of his people stood talking pleasantly to a little fair-haired English boy, the son of Mrs. Fellowes' next door neighbour.

David Morpeth's face wore a bright smile now, very different from his sad stern mien of the previous evening. Mark felt ashamed when he recalled the incident, but could not venture to apologise, though, somehow, he knew that the older man recognised him as one of the occupants of the mail-phaeton. An evident air of surprise seemed to mingle with his recognition, though all awkwardness was at once eliminated by Mark Cheveril's greeting.

"Mrs. Fellowes has just been telling me of your efforts for our poor brothers, and I want to give you the hand of fellowship," he said with a frank smile.

"I welcome it heartily, sir," returned David Morpeth with a half startled air, though his whole face beamed. Then a puzzled look flitted across it as he said slowly, fixing his deep eyes on the young man: "I believe I speak to the new Assistant-Collector of Puranapore just arrived from England? I must not take advantage of your inexperience, Mr. Cheveril. I am an East Indian--a half-caste, and I naturally try to help my own people!"

"And I also am an East Indian. My father's wife was a Hindu girl. I've always been proud of the link with this great country--my mother's land!"

David Morpeth's eyes spoke unutterable things as he gazed on the handsome open face of the young man. He seemed spell-bound by his declaration and kept silence for a moment. He walked a few paces away with his hands folded behind him, and Mark heard him uttering low tremulous words. Retracing his steps he came and stood in front of the young civilian, laid his hand on his shoulder, and spoke in a slow measured tone like one unaccustomed to lighter talk; his address, like his searching eyes, had something that reminded one of the descriptions of the ancient seer.

"Yours is a noble confession, young man! May you be able to live up to it! But believe me, there will be many a sorrow, many a tear. I would fain have further talk with you. I cannot tell you how I rejoice that my steps led me here this morning to feel the grasp of your young hand, but I must go now, this is not the place for further parleying," he added, glancing beyond the tamarind tree with a sudden startled air.

Instinctively Mark glanced round, wondering what could be the cause of his agitation. There seemed none. Only Hester was crossing the lawn, probably to suggest that it was time to bring their visit to a close. Surely the gracious presence of the young English lady could not call up the sudden air of discomfort on the old man's face. Then he recalled Alfred Rayner's insolent demeanour on the previous night, and his refusal even to apologise to the man whom he called a "greasy half-caste." Yes, that must be what made the sensitive man shrink into his shell. He did not wish to encounter the wife of his insulter, Mark decided, as he held out his hand, saying:

"We must meet again before I leave for Puranapore. I shall come and get some of your wisdom while I can."

With a glad smile Mr. Morpeth raised his sun-topee and hurried down the shady walk which made a short cut to the entrance gate.

"Oh, I'm so sorry that elusive Mr. Morpeth has eluded me again," said Hester. "I watched Mrs. Fellowes introduce you to him and said to myself, 'Now's my chance,' and when I perceived you and him in deep conversation I didn't like to intrude, and now he's gone. I saw him here once before and thought he had such a sad interesting face, I longed to know him."

"Yes, he is interesting," returned Mark, "specially so to me. He is an East Indian by birth. I only wish for this and other reasons I was not to be banished from Madras. I'm sure this David Morpeth and I would become fast friends, especially since there is the bond of race between us."

Hester looked grave, and her lips parted as if she were about to speak. Here surely was the opportunity for giving Mark some warning on this point concerning which her husband had dwelt with such harsh words. The ice had not been broken on the topic as yet, and she felt she must go softly, all the more since Alfred was now seeming to belie his words and proving an entirely gracious and helpful host; for she had not heard of the episode of the homeward evening drive. It must surely have been only a fit of passing petulance which had made Alfred speak so. It would be worse than foolish in her to refer to the matter now, she decided, as, after taking leave of Colonel and Mrs. Fellowes, they drove home to baths and late breakfast.

"Here is a list I've been framing for you of important people you've got to call on, Cheveril," said Mr. Rayner with a paterfamilias manner, as he walked into the breakfast-room, evidently bent on initiating his guest in all the intricacies of social procedure in Madras. "The new-comer has to call first here, so you must positively leave cards at all those houses, Government House included, since you are bent on leaving us to-morrow."

"What a formidable array of names!" exclaimed Mark, raising his eyebrows as he scanned the sheet. "Why, one would think you were going to put me up for a constituency, Rayner, if there was such a thing in this part of the world?"

But truly, as Mark acknowledged to himself, Rayner was proving a most painstaking host. He was actually pressing the use of one of his carriages on his acceptance, and Hester assured him that the landau was at his service, as she had duly responded to all social obligations, having been, she laughingly assured him, kept up to the mark by her husband.

Mark would not hear of appropriating an article which, in this hot climate, he understood to be as essential as one's boots, and had, in fact, already ordered a hired carriage for this enforced round of visits.

His host at length departed for the High Court with semi-paternal injunctions that his guest must not skip a single name in his valuable list.

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