A Bottle in the Smoke: A Tale of Anglo-Indian Life

by Janet Milne Rae

  CHAPTER IV.

  "I think you are most inconsiderate, Hester, to take Cheveril to thatsqualid suburb when he might be playing tennis with the fair Clarice atthe Adyar," Mr. Rayner was saying, as his wife and their guest stood inthe 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 picturesquemilitary cantonments."

  "Yes, it certainly looked very picturesque when it was pointed out to mefrom the deck of the _Bokhara_, with those wonderful palms dipping downit seemed into the sea. I want to make its nearer acquaintance, and Imust add Mrs. Fellowes' also," said Mark, as the landau appeared, andHester, in pretty morning apparel, took her seat in it, followed by herguest.

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

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

  Meanwhile, the landau was carrying the pair along the leafy roadstowards the sea, and soon it was threading its way by the crowded FirstLine Beach full of bustling commercial activity. Great droves ofmuscular coolies were pushing loads which good British dray horses wouldnot lightly have tackled; but the strong shiny brown limbs, made suppleby frequent oilings, seemed to have no difficulty in dragging theirburdens, which they did with unconscious grace, and even withcheerfulness, judging from the resonant chorus of shouts. One side ofthe sea front was given up to shipping in all its varieties, while theother was lined by many-hued buildings, some so evidently of theGeorgian period that one did not need to glance at the date above theirGreek-pillared porticos. They were intersected by higher parti-colouredbuildings of chunam, and except for one or two hotels, all given up tobusiness purposes of varying degrees of importance. Against thesubstantial blocks were huddled some ramshackle erections which hadevidently seen better days, but which were now fast sinking into godownsfor storage, their peeling facades lending picturesqueness to the streetscene on which Mark was looking with keen interest.

  Now the carriage was nearing the lines of the Native Infantry. Not farfrom them stood various detached bungalows, surrounded by compounds,where the officers sojourned, with a sprinkling of other residents wholiked this suburb so near the sea. Clusters of low, thatched, mudvillages, with enclosures of bamboo, where semi-nude children crawledabout like sandhoppers, nestled under the groups of tall feathery palmswhich, Mark had noticed, seemed to dip into the sparkling waters of theocean.

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

  Mrs. Fellowes was specially delighted to see her young friend as aproof that she had not suffered from her slip on the treacherous stepsof the tank. She welcomed Mark with cordiality, introducing him to herhusband, 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 hadtrained his sepoys and loved them like children.

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

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

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

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

  "Granted!" returned Colonel Fellowes. "Just as the Israelites came tothe land of Canaan--sent by the same Hand. Depend upon it the hosts ofour forefathers were the hosts of God, as Kingsley says. But talking ofreproducing chunam palaces at home, I was amused to hear Rayner sayingthe other day at the Club that he had got a plan of his house in Clive'sRoad, and meant to reproduce it in Belgravia! 'First catch the standingroom,' said I. He's an ambitious young fellow that, and a pushing one! Iwish his ambition would take the form of giving his wife a good mount. Itold him of a perfect one to be had at Waller's stables, but he wouldn'thear of it."

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

  "Well, strange as it may seem, he has an unaccountable prejudice againstriding, though he is a good whip and has several pairs of fine Arabsbesides the two Walers. I begged him, if he wouldn't come himself, tolet Mrs. Rayner ride of a morning with my wife. She was most keen, buthe wouldn't hear of it. Selfish, I call it! She is so charming, quitethe nicest of our brides this season," added the colonel, his eyesfollowing Hester's slender figure as she strolled along the lawn walkwith his wife.

  Mark fully endorsed his remark though he did so silently, inwardlycommenting on the personal note which all conversation seemed to take inhis new social surroundings. He had observed it on the previous eveningwhen more than one of those to whom he had been introduced made commentsmore 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 thenarrowness of its range of topics. It was perforce illuminating to anew-comer, though he felt that the suggestion of selfishness in Hester'shusband was painful when he recalled the parting words of her mother onthe Pinkthorpe Rectory. "We would fain that Hester had chosen one ofwhom we knew more than Alfred Rayner. As her father says, he is still anunknown quantity. In fact, the dear child's choice was too hurried. Youwill do much to reassure us, Mark, if you can tell us that the man ofher choice is strong to lean on, tender and true!"

  Even already from his few hours' acquaintance, Mark felt by no meanssure that he could banish Mrs. Bellairs' anxiety by the assurance forwhich she longed. There seemed to him a curious hardness about Rayner,combined with a lack of manliness, making visible shallow ambitions. Hewore them "on his sleeve" in fact, and Colonel Fellowes had not far toprobe in putting his finger on such weaknesses. But Mark hoped thatHester had not discovered any such flaws, and he desired, brother-like,to shield her from the knowledge of them. Rayner could hardly livebeside one so true and sweet as she was without being influenced forgood. Whenever he could get release from his duties at Puranapore hewould surely be able to trace her ennobling influence on her husband,and till then he must forbear to sound any note of trouble to theanxious 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 theshady walk. He was a man about Colonel Fellowes' age, tall but not
soerect and with less broad shoulders. His face was not so bronzed as thesoldier's, but his skin had a more withered look, and there was apathetic light about his deep, penetrating grey eyes. The curves of histhin lips betokened a settled sadness, though his face lit up with ararely pleasant smile as he returned Mrs. Fellowes' greeting.

  "Welcome, Mr. Morpeth, you are a sight for 'sair een,' as my old Scotsaunt 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 restiveAustralians of the mail-phaeton had almost trampled under foot, and whomAlfred Rayner had characterised as a "greasy half-caste." On the firstopportunity he asked his hostess the name of the guest.

  "David Morpeth," she replied, "a man whom we are proud to know, thoughhe is an East Indian," she added, lowering her voice. "You know--orperhaps you don't know yet--what an inveterate prejudice there isagainst these people. I always say that David Morpeth would redeem anation; he lives and toils for his despised people, pours out his moneyand his life for them, often, I fear, with very poor return. He has evenenlisted 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 reallypersonally much respected here; but he declines social advances from anyquarter, so my husband and I feel honoured when he puts in one of hisrare appearances. Besides, I value the little change for the dear manfrom the toils of those wretched people."

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

  "By all means! How nice of you, Mr. Cheveril!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

  "Yours is a noble confession, young man! May you be able to live up toit! But believe me, there will be many a sorrow, many a tear. I wouldfain have further talk with you. I cannot tell you how I rejoice that mysteps led me here this morning to feel the grasp of your young hand, butI 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 ofhis 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 upthe sudden air of discomfort on the old man's face. Then he recalledAlfred Rayner's insolent demeanour on the previous night, and hisrefusal even to apologise to the man whom he called a "greasyhalf-caste." Yes, that must be what made the sensitive man shrink intohis shell. He did not wish to encounter the wife of his insulter, Markdecided, as he held out his hand, saying:

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

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

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

  "Yes, he is interesting," returned Mark, "specially so to me. He is anEast Indian by birth. I only wish for this and other reasons I was notto be banished from Madras. I'm sure this David Morpeth and I wouldbecome fast friends, especially since there is the bond of race betweenus."

  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 thispoint concerning which her husband had dwelt with such harsh words. Theice had not been broken on the topic as yet, and she felt she must gosoftly, all the more since Alfred was now seeming to belie his words andproving an entirely gracious and helpful host; for she had not heard ofthe episode of the homeward evening drive. It must surely have been onlya fit of passing petulance which had made Alfred speak so. It would beworse than foolish in her to refer to the matter now, she decided, as,after taking leave of Colonel and Mrs. Fellowes, they drove home tobaths and late breakfast.

  * * * * *

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

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

  "You may thank your stars, there is not, for then you might have tocanvass all the half-caste warrens, kiss babies as black as your boot,_et cetera_. Thank goodness, Englishmen will never sink to that! No, theconstituency I desire you should cultivate is one of pure Englishmen.I've only given you the names of socially desirable people. You mustplough through those calls, Cheveril, they are a sacred rite for thenew-comer. Great mistake not to leave your card on all big entertainers,for instance! Puranapore is not so far off that you cannot respond toevery desirable invitation. The fair Miss Clarice will be sure to claimyou for her coming ball. In fact, I saw an invitation in her eyes,mouth, and every feature of her face!" he added, with a laugh whichjarred upon Mark, who, though he was not what is called "a lady's man,"and perhaps because he was not, possessed that innate chivalry for womanwhich seemed to rise to the surface when the slightest note ofdisrespect for them was sounded.

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

  Mark would not hear of appropriating an article which, in this hotclimate, he understood to be as essential as one's boots, and had, infact, already ordered a hired carriage for this enforced r
ound ofvisits.

  His host at length departed for the High Court with semi-paternalinjunctions that his guest must not skip a single name in his valuablelist.

  Presently the hired bandy, which had been waiting under a tree for sometime, was summoned, and Mark's butler, whom, on his host'srecommendation he had engaged that morning, stood salaaming below theverandah steps preparatory to opening the carriage door.

  "Where master wishing to drive?" asked Narainswamy in his best English.

  "Morpeth house, Vepery," was the reply.