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

by Janet Milne Rae

  CHAPTER XXIII.

  The Banqueting Hall, as that important adjunct of Government House,Madras, is called, scintillated with light. The lower branches of thenoble trees which line the approach were hung with innumerable lamps ofvariegated colours, while the great white building gave forth aresplendent glow from its many windows. The colonnades of pillars at itsentrance were reached by an immense flight of steps, the centre of whichwas covered by a broad strip of crimson cloth. Along either side wereranged rows of peons in long scarlet coats, their sashes beltedcrossways on their chests, ornamented by bright badges, their neatlyfolded turbans, their dignified and deferential mien, all contributingto the impressive effect of the scene.

  Through the wide open doors one caught glimpses of more pillars in theentrance hall. The banisters and staircase landings were decorated withgreat pots of glossy greenery. Peons were flitting about; anaide-de-camp, gorgeous in gold lace, his nether man cased in tights andHessian boots, was in waiting in the hall; while groups of gentlemen,both civil and military, stood talking together preparatory to makingtheir entrance.

  The fashionable unpunctuality of arrival which prevails at homefunctions did not at this period find favour at Government House. Mostof the guests of the evening were now streaming in as quickly as thethronging of their equipages on the great gravel sweep outside wouldpermit. The ladies cloak-rooms were vocal with a chorus of Englishvoices as Hester Rayner entered. It seemed to her a happy babble as shesmilingly returned the greetings of various acquaintances, while she wasbeing divested of her cloak by one of the many Eurasian attendants.

  Miss Clarice Glanton, robed in iridescent filmy gauze, glideddragon-fly-like towards Hester, with a gracious smile on her face.

  "Got your card full up, of course, Hester? Your husband says I may callyou so, and I mean henceforth to avail myself of his permission. Well,how stands your card?"

  "My card! I'm afraid I haven't even thought about it yet," repliedHester simply.

  "Why, I thought you were looking so happy that you must surely be inluck! I think I know somebody who will be having many favours from youto-night, but he didn't rise to my bait, though I showed him I had stillone or two blanks to fill."

  Hester looked so evidently uncomprehending that she added:

  "After all, it's only tit-for-tat! If you are to have possession of thePuranapore Assistant, I'm going to have pity on your forsaken husband! Iwas actually benevolent enough to promise him not less than three danceswhen he came a-begging to my door this afternoon"; and Miss Glantonglanced with a malicious smile at the young wife.

  Her tone and her information both jarred on Hester. She recalled thather husband had pleaded a business engagement as his reason for notaccompanying her to the beach, but she held her peace; indeed there wasno pause for further talk. Both ladies were swept forward to join theirgentlemen in the corridor and take their places for presentation.

  Alfred Rayner had been waiting all impatience. Casting a rapid glance onhis wife, the result of which seemed satisfying to his vanity, heoffered his arm with a gratified smile.

  "Come, my English rose is bound to win the prize," he whispered.

  Taking their places in the long stream of guests, they moved slowlyalong a side aisle under the gallery till they reached the neighbourhoodof the dais, then their turn came to ascend the flat crimson steps. TheA.D.C.-in-waiting stood receiving the cards of the guests and announcedtheir names.

  Hester, with a grace which few could equal, at length made her curtseyto the Queen's representative, His Excellency the Governor of Madras, astout-built, elderly man with scanty dark hair, a bushy grey beard, apair of keen, shrewd eyes which seemed to take in all his surroundingsat a glance. His hostess-daughter stood by his side receiving theguests, while near by were two younger daughters who bowed and smiled inrecognition of acquaintances and chatted with members of the house-partygathered on the dais; while the presented guests took their places amongthe surrounding groups who stood watching the ceremony in progress.

  None did so with more pleasure than Hester, whose artistic eye wasglamoured by the beautiful blending of colours throughout the statelyhall which would have made a worthy setting for any pageant. Every styleand colour of uniform was represented, from the brilliant scarlet andgold of the Staff to the pale blue and silver of the Madras Cavalry, thedrab of some of the Native Infantry corps, and the artillery officersfrom the Mount whose uniform was the short, slashed jacket, which,though becoming to tall, slender figures, was by no means so to the fatold Artillery colonels stepping about, serving as foils to the slimyoung men.

  The presentation now seemed at an end except in the case of a fewlate-comers. His Excellency had turned to talk with some members of thehouse-party. The regimental band, stationed in the front gallery, wasgiving forth its first strains of music with stirring effect. Adistinguished soldier visitor from North India led forth thehostess-daughter of the Governor, who, etiquette demanded, should openthe ball. The beautiful shiny parquet floor was presently peopled withcouples, and from the band came the favourite waltz air of the period,"The Blue Danube."

  Hester would have been quite contented to gaze on the picturesque sceneas a spectator only, but though she had not taken time by the forelocklike Miss Glanton, partners were not wanting. She was at once soughtafter and began to enter into the rythmical waltz movement.

  She was glad to see that her husband was enjoying the favours of MissGlanton, but as yet she had not caught sight of Mark Cheveril or hischief, and began to fear that at the last moment Mr. Worsley had devisedsome specious excuse for absenting himself. On being whirled, however,to the neighbourhood of the dais, she perceived the Collector descendingfrom it, his arm linked in that of one of the Government house-party whoseemed delighted to have captured him, and was now leading him off toone of the comparatively quiet side-aisles to pursue their talkunmolested by the jostling dancers. Mr. Worsley's face broke into apleased smile as he happened to catch a glimpse in the mazes of thewaltz of his late companion on the beach, and he and his soldier friendstood watching her for a moment before they retired to seek a quietnook.

  Presently Hester also caught sight of Mark dancing with the youngerdaughter of the Governor, a graceful girl who danced to perfection, andnot a few eyes followed the handsome pair.

  Mark, though courteous in his duty to his partner, seemed somewhatabsent-minded. More than once she noticed his eyes following themovements of the beautiful Mrs. Rayner. He was in truth trying to divinehow things had gone with her since they had parted that afternoon. Hehad some fear that on her return to Clive's Road she might again havehad to encounter a repetition of the scene which still haunted him likea nightmare. Great, therefore, was his surprise, after he had conductedhis partner to a seat, and was standing gazing at the bright scene, tobe accosted by Alfred Rayner.

  "Good evening, Cheveril!" he said jauntily. "Glad to see you werehonoured by one of the Duke's daughters. I shouldn't have presumed--butnothing venture nothing win!"

  Mark, not having any reply ready, maintained a grave silence, which thespeaker evidently translated into an attitude of offence towardshimself, and still assuming a conciliatory tone, he said:

  "Look here, Cheveril! I want to apologise in dust and ashes for makingsuch an ass of myself the other morning. The fact is a night atPalaveram mess makes a wreck of a fellow. You must forgive and forget mynasty fit of temper, and as a proof of this do go and ask Hester for thenext dance. I see she is at this moment wasting her fragrance on what Ishould call 'the desert air'--talking to Mrs. Fellowes!"

  "Thanks for the suggestion! I shall certainly speak to both ladies withpleasure," returned Mark.

  Whereupon Mr. Rayner seemed to take for granted that his favour deserveda return. He laid his hand on Mark's sleeve, saying in a coaxing tone:

  "I say, Cheveril, I'm going to ask a favour of you! Will you, like agood fellow, introduce me to Mr. Worsley?--or rather, I should putit--bring me again under his notice, for we were introduced at the Clubso
me time after my arrival in Madras. I left my card on him, but nodoubt he has now forgotten the name of the humble barrister."

  Mark fervently wished that the Collector of Puranapore had forgotten it,for he feared the requested introduction would prove a thorny business;in fact he quickly decided that for Mr. Rayner's own sake it must not beventured on. Looking at him with frank, honest eyes he said quickly:

  "I'm afraid I must not, Rayner, though in other circumstances nothingwould have given me greater pleasure."

  He felt greatly relieved when at this moment a Club acquaintance claimedhis company and led him off.

  "'Other circumstances,' forsooth, just like your half-caste impudence!"muttered Mr. Rayner, as he turned on his heel and moved away. The bandstruck up a new waltz and he remembered that Clarice Glanton hadpromised him this dance. Threading his way towards her, they were soonin the vortex of the shining floor. Clarice noticed that her companion'sgay mood was now replaced by an absent, gloomy air. She began at once tochaff him concerning the change, and Rayner, who was often communicativewhen reticence would have stood him in better stead, burst forth:

  "Oh, it's that young jackanapes, Cheveril, who always rubs me up thewrong way!"

  "What, green-eyed jealousy again! I can't see you've any cause for it atthis moment. He hasn't once been dancing with your wife, though he hashad several partners--and dances well, I observe. As for your preciousHester, she seems glued to a dark corner there, no doubt exchangingviews with Mrs. Fellowes about flannels and petticoats for their'Friendly'!"

  "You're always so literal, Clarice. I don't ever harp on one string! Itdoesn't happen to be jealousy of Cheveril at this moment. Rayner's wife,like Caesar's, is above suspicion! I'll tell you what's bothering me. Ihappen, for business reasons, to want to have a word with the Collectorof Puranapore, and I asked Cheveril to introduce me to him. The surlybeggar shuffles out of it in the coolest manner possible. Very rude ofhim, isn't it? No wonder I'm a bit ruffled!" Mr. Rayner wound uppeevishly.

  "An introduction to old Mr. Worsley! Why, if that will make you asmiling partner there's no difficulty about it. He's an old chum of thepater's. I've known him since I was a little mite of a child, and hehas always a smile for me, for all they say he's such an old bear. Waittill this dance is finished and we'll seek him out."

  Miss Glanton was as good as her word. The iridescent-robed maiden lookedvery charming, when, with her red lips parted showing shining whiteteeth, she approached the Collector, holding out her hand:

  "Clarice, of course," said Mr. Worsley, "transformed into a dragon-flyor something of the kind."

  "So glad you happen to know me this time," said the girl airily.

  "Well, I don't take credit for any special intelligence, young lady, butyou haven't grown, for instance, since we last met!"

  "Mercifully not! I don't admire tall women," she replied spitefully, hereye travelling to Hester's graceful willowy figure gliding past withMark Cheveril. Then glancing at the man by her side she recalled herpresent mission.

  "I want to introduce my friend here who wishes to know the Collector ofPuranapore. Mr. Rayner--Mr. Worsley!"

  The barrister made a profound bow, lowering his eyelids as he did so.When he raised them, Mr. Worsley's nod had changed to a frown.Recovering himself instantly he turned quickly to the lady, sayinglightly: "I hope you are enjoying the dance, Clarice? Plenty ofpartners, eh?"

  Alfred Rayner divined that he would fain have added, "Of a better sortthan your present one."

  "Well, seeing we haven't the solace of dancing like you, Sir Frederickand I were about to seek the distraction of the supper-table," pursuedMr. Worsley, glancing round for his friend. "Good evening, Clarice! Tellyour father not to forget my little dinner at the Club to-morrow night!"Then he turned on his heel and walked away without even bestowing asingle glance on Clarice's companion.

  "The naughty old man, he didn't catch on at all," said Clarice,puckering her forehead and looking at her companion with a slightlyembarrassed air. "I'm afraid you are vexed--but not with me, I hope. Itried to do my level best."

  "Sure you did, Clarice," returned Mr. Rayner, scowling. "But I'll tellyou what has happened. That puppy Cheveril has been slandering me to theCollector. That's what it is!"

  "More than likely," murmured Clarice, feeling uncomfortable, andpondering what ailed Mr. Worsley at the young barrister. There must besomething rather serious or he would never have given him such adownright snub, she decided, and was nothing loth to exchange herdiscomfited partner for a lively Artilleryman from the Mount, and in afew minutes had forgotten the incident.

  Not so Alfred Rayner. He wandered about moodily, occasionally trying tocatch a glimpse of Hester and discover what she was about; his ruffledtemper being by no means soothed on perceiving that she was againdancing with Mark. On issuing from the supper-room which he had visitedalone, he chanced to find himself behind Mr. Worsley and his friend. Hewatched them as they walked along arm-in-arm till they came to a gap inthe rows of white pillars that lined the side-aisle under the gallery,which were all gaily festooned to-night, so that the pair stood in themidst of the greenery watching the giddy maze which, though the hourswere flying, did not seem to lose any of its fascination for thedancers. There was at the moment a slightly cleared space on the shiningfloor, and along it came a couple, evidently engaged in bright talk.

  "Now look there, Worsley, that young man and maiden make a prettypicture, don't they? 'Love's young dream,' I should say, and nomistake!" The bright blue eyes of the gallant soldier rested with anadmiring smile on the pair advancing with slow and graceful steps, allunconscious of being observed by any.

  "Now there you are again, Sir Frederick, letting your romantic spiritrun away with you! Commend me to a soldier for that sort of thing!"returned Mr. Worsley, with a laugh. "'Love's young dream,' forsooth! Thelady is already a wife, and the youth, who I admit is a rarely comelyone, is my Assistant at Puranapore. Now you see how your romance tumbleslike a house of cards!"

  "Humph! Well, at all events its spirit remains. The pair do look as ifthey were enjoying each other's company vastly"; and the ruddy,weather-beaten face lit up with a benevolent smile as Mark and Hesterpassed out of their range.

  "I only wish it could be as you say," said Mr. Worsley, with a shrug ofhis shoulders. "The girl's husband is, I fear, a thoroughly _mauvaissujet_, and she is as good as gold--quite charming. By the way, you musthave known her people--Bellairs, a Worcestershire family. Of course youdid, and she's very like her handsome uncle Charlie."

  "Why she must be the daughter of Philip Bellairs, the parson."

  "She is! But how her father came to allow such an unprincipled scoundrelto carry off his daughter, passes me to understand. A creature not fitto touch the hem of her garment. I have a suspicion that he is----"

  Mr. Worsley lowered his voice. It no longer reached the ear of thelistener who had been cowering on the other side of the festoonedpillar, hiding among its greenery. But Alfred Rayner had heard more thanenough. With a flame of fury in his eyes, his long fingers clenched, hestaggered forth to the nearest verandah. Leaning on its white balustradehe gazed with unseeing eyes on the peaceful, dark blue, star-bespangledvault, his heart a prey to misery and wrath.

  "So I'm 'an unprincipled scoundrel,' am I?--not fit to touch the hem ofmy own wife's garment, forsooth! Well, he's given me my characteranyhow! I know now what to expect from that quarter! No more white-flagbusiness for me--all red, red, red!" he muttered, gnashing his teethlike a beast of prey. "I'll see Zynool to-morrow and put him up to atrick or two that will perhaps make Mister Felix Worsley squirm in hislounging chair!"

  He stood motionless by the balustrade for some time, his haggard faceresting on his long thin hands as he hatched his evil plot.

  Perhaps it was the peace of the starry night that spoke to him, forthere came stealing upon him at this unexpected juncture one of thosemoments of self-revelation which visit even the basest and shallowest ofhuman hearts. Its searchlight seemed sudden
ly to reveal to the manvistas that stretched back even to childish days. He saw himself againthe peevish, greedy little boy who wanted everything for himself only,and domineered over the smaller boys, who cringed to the bully; who liedand cheated on the class-bench and in the playground, hating better boysthan himself and loving to hear his doting aunt assure him that therewas no one so handsome or so smart as he. Yes, to be sure, Aunt Flo wasresponsible for a good deal! Had not fibs rolled from her speech ashairpins from her black shiny chignon? Had she not reared him to allkinds of petty deceptions till he became proud of successfully conductedsmall villainies? How spiteful was her attitude to any boy who seemedlikely to outstrip him in the race at school or college, and howinvariably she succeeded in inoculating him with her jealousy till hehad not a single friend left to whom he could turn with frank loyalfriendship!

  What chance had he from the beginning with such an environment, he askedhimself querulously. And now, after all his efforts to secure a goodsocial and professional footing, he saw himself a distrusted man, forin other eyes he had been able to trace something of the same scornfulaloofness which he saw in Mr. Worsley's. It was bitter indeed! AndHester, what of her? Perhaps it was too true that he was unworthy totouch the hem of her garment; but she, at least, had not turned the coldshoulder on him yet! Never again would he subject her to these vileebullitions of temper. He would try to make her forget the scene of theother morning, he vowed, as he gazed on the moon-silvered landscape anddrank in some of its peace.

  He recalled Hester's look of kindness as they had driven home togetheron that last Sunday evening from the little mission church on theEsplanade to which she had been eager to take him, and he had thoughthimself exceedingly complaisant in agreeing, for once, to accompany herto the "unfashionable conventicle," as he called it, where NativeChristians, not to speak of Eurasians, sat side by side with the littlecompany of English folk.

  The preacher that evening was a desperately earnest-looking man withsearching eyes and a penetrating voice. He had unfolded to his hearersone of the old promises from the Sacred Book, the promise that to thosewho turned to Him, God would give back the years the cankerworm hadeaten. As the organ-like voice of the gallant pleader for God had fallenon his ear, Alfred Rayner acknowledged to himself that he was givingmore heed to a "parson's words" than he had ever done in his whole life.And there had been a soft pleading light in Hester's eyes as they methis, the silent meaning of which he could not mistake. What a prettypicture she had made as she sat with reverent uplifted face, her armround a bright little English child whose parents had brought her tothis evening service! The little maid had been assiduous in offering herhymn-book to the winning visitor, and as a supreme mark of confidencehad finally deposited her doll on Hester's knee, and then sat nestlingher fair shining curls against her arm. The picture came back to himnow, a tableau graven on his memory. Would that a little flaxen headlike that were their very own! What a changed man such a pledge of lovewould make of him! How truly the promise would then be fulfilled onwhich the preacher had dwelt in eloquent words! Then surely would theyears eaten by the cankerworm be given back! But no, the dream wasfading. He shivered as a light breeze blew softly through the verandah,and turned his gaze from the starry heavens, muttering bitterly:

  "The cankerworm has fretted through and through! Old Worsley ain't sofar wrong after all. I've got the making of a scoundrel in me. Ha, ha!On the make, am I? Well, I'll give him a sample of my wares by-and-by ifZynool will stir up! I declare this silly fit of introspection has mademe quite nervy, or the draughty verandah has given me a chill. I mustpull myself together."

  Having no mind to join the festive gathering again, Rayner crept back tothe outer edges of the supper tables, and seeing a magnum of champagne,which he decided was the best recipe for steadying his nerves, hepartook eagerly. He then took his stand again in the wide aisle andscanned the ballroom, which was now rapidly emptying. The Governor andhis party had retired, though various guests still lingered, but theroom was beginning to wear the air of "a banquet-hall deserted."

  Rayner glanced round furtively for his wife, and presently descried MarkCheveril in earnest conversation with another civilian.

  "So far good," he muttered, "he at least is not taking advantage of myabsence to enjoy himself with this wife of mine whom Mr. Worsley placeson such a pedestal!"

  But after he had gazed out from his corner a little longer, he perceiveda combination which aroused his anger.

  On one of the sofas placed about for tired guests not far from whereMark stood, sat Hester, and by her side, his own now declared enemy, theCollector of Puranapore. Mr. Worsley was smiling as he talked, and hisconversation was evidently pleasing, judging from Hester's look ofinterest and animation. The topic was, in fact, reminiscences of heruncle, who had been Felix Worsley's particular friend at Oxford.

  Striding rapidly across the room, Rayner laid his hand on his wife'sarm, saying sharply:

  "Come along, Mrs. Rayner, our carriage stops the way."

  Hardly allowing her time even to bow a good-night to her companion, andhimself ignoring his presence, he hurried her away, keeping his hold onher arm till she reached the door of the cloak-room.

  "Alfred, why were you so rude?" asked Hester in dismay. "Do you know itwas Mr. Worsley, whom you wanted so much to meet, that I was talkingto?"

  "I knew it only too well, madam! Therefore it was I chivied you off as Idid. Sorry I interrupted what seemed, judging from your appearance, afascinating _tete-a-tete_, but a man must use his discretion where hisown wife is concerned! Don't be in any hurry, I've got to summon thecarriage yet," he called, as Hester, dumb with shame and vexation, wasdisappearing into the cloak-room. "I'll send and let you know when Mrs.Rayner's carriage stops the way!" Then he added to himself: "Meanwhile Iwant a little more champagne to steady my nerves after all this worry."