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

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by Janet Milne Rae


  CHAPTER XXVII.

  As Alfred Rayner was being driven along the crowded streets of Calcuttaafter his call on Truelove Brothers, he felt less inclined than ever fora pleasure trip on the river, or even for a return to tiffin with hishost and hostess. He decided that he must find a safety-valve for hisdisturbed state of mind, and presently he caught sight of a gaudy signannouncing: "Tiffin and Billiards within." The place looked large andairy, and he saw some figures like European gentlemen moving aboutwithin.

  "I'll tiff here more comfortably than with those worthy Melfords," hesaid to himself, and called to the gharry-wallah to halt. He paid hisfare, dismissed him, and entered the wide doorway.

  During lunch he made the acquaintance of some of the _habitues_ of theClub, who appeared eager to receive him, and invited him to share theirgame. Being an excellent billiard player, he congratulated himself asthe afternoon advanced on having had a good stroke of fortune instumbling into this resort.

  "I've positively made enough to pay that crawling half-caste if I domake up my mind to buy his secret. Perhaps I'd better take the hazard ofthe die! It may prove well spent money. I'm convinced I'll hear mysecretive pater is a _grand seigneur_, possibly lounging aboutPiccadilly at this moment while his son is grilling here! I could readin old Fyson's manner, as well as in his words, that my dad was'somebody,' and if I have the secret from his clerk, I shan't have himto thank for the present of it. Yes, as I've made the required sum Iwill go and buy it from that creature whose long ears have stood him ingood stead."

  He glanced at his watch and found that it was now nearly the appointedhour for the meeting at the Shrine of Kali. Having taken the measure ofthe men round him, he knew well that they were reckoning on getting hiswinnings transferred to their own pockets before the evening was over.To announce therefore his intention to depart would prove worse thanfoolish. Seizing a moment when he found himself near the door, he flungaside his cue and hurried off with such suddenness that the otherinmates of the room did not realise he was gone.

  "Very neatly played," he muttered with a relieved sigh, as he leant backin the tikka-gharry which was carrying him along the brightly-litstreets to the appointed trysting-place.

  Presently the paving-stones were left behind, and the gharry rattledalong a soft dusty roadway lined by trees, though the presence of lampsindicated that they were still in the suburbs. At last the gharry-wallahpulled up at the precincts of the little sandstone temple embowered bytrees. Long dank grass of a marshy kind grew all round, the temple beingin the near neighbourhood of a small river which ran into the Hoogly.This river was regarded as sacred, and therefore the little shrine hadbeen planted on its banks.

  Under the shadow of a big neem tree Mr. Rayner caught sight of theEurasian clerk, who now came towards him through the long grass withrapid steps.

  "Thought you were never coming, sir," he began. "I've been hangin' aboutthis blessed place for more than an hour. I was makin' up my mind youwas goin' to give me the slip!"

  He was holding some papers in his hand and his eyes shone withexcitement. Mr. Rayner dismissed the gharry, and advanced a few stepsinto the grass, saying impatiently:

  "Well, out with it! Mind, if you humbug me, I'll find means to pay youout in something different from a bag of rupees. But for good valueI'll pay you a good price. I know my father must be a person ofimportance, or Truelove Brothers wouldn't have been so deferential to meall along."

  "You're right, sir, he is a person of veree great importance. What'smore, I've seen him with my own eyes and heard 'em whisperin'--the bossand him about you--'Alfred' bein' your name. So you see I know more thanyou might think to look at me."

  "You'd need to!" said Rayner contemptuously, as he surveyed the bentshoulders and the weak face of this humble member of the race hedespised. "Come on then, out with it! I can't stand all night listeningto your haverings. His name and his address!"

  "His name is an honoured one among us. It's David Morpeth, sir, and hisaddress is Freyville, Vepery, Madras!"

  "You lie--you lie!" shouted Rayner, after a moment's stunned silence,waxing so deadly pale that the clerk thought he was about to faint. Thensuddenly he flung himself on the young man and seized him by the throat."You lie, say you lie!" he screamed.

  The youth strove frantically to shake himself free from the grasp of theconvulsive fingers, and after a struggle succeeded in doing so.

  "Oh my gracious me!" he gasped. "Oh, my, what an onset--and for my primebit of news too, as I thought you'd be proud to hear--you the son ofsuch a man!"

  "Listen to me, you idiot," said Rayner in a choking voice, with aneffort to calm himself. "There must be some mistake! This is not thetruth you have told me. Say that you've lied and I'll forgiveyou--you'll have your hundred rupees. I've got it here--say you've beenlying!"

  "I can't say no different than what I've stated," said the clerk,shaking his head dolorously. "I've got you the proofs in my hand. Thoughthey be pilfered they're genuine, as you, being a man of education,will see at a glance."

  He laid two letters into Rayner's hand. The writing could hardly bedistinguished in the dim light, but on his going under one of the lampshe could read the words which David Morpeth had lately written to Mr.Fyson concerning his son. One recorded the offer of the double allowance"if my son, Alfred Rayner, will agree to abandon his betting andgambling habits and turn to better ways." It bore so obviously theimpress of genuineness that even Alfred Rayner could no longer doubt thetruth of the, to him, appalling revelation.

  "You see it was like this," said the clerk, in an explanatory tone,setting his head on one side. "Mr. Morpeth's wife--your mother, was, asI've heard, a great toast in Chandrychoke, though one would not havesaid, according to my mother, that she was a match for him--Mr. Morpeth,I mean--his family belonging to Duramtollah, where the upper classes ofus Eurasians live. But he wedded her all the same, and she worried him agood bit with her high-flown ideas and her temper and all, being atrifle light. He was always a quiet gentleman, they say. When you wasborn and she lay a-dying, she made him pledge himself to give you up toher sister Flo who was wed on a Mister Rayner. He once held the samepost as myself in Trueloves', but he made his pile somehow and went toEngland to swagger and spend."

  The man was so taken up with his narration that he forgot he wasspeaking to the relative of these people. At the mention of his aunt'sname, Rayner squirmed. Cruel searching daylight was stealing into hismind. Forgotten things were being brought to memory. He covered his faceand leant against a tree, groaning. But the clerk, with a ring ofindignation in his _chi-chi_ voice, proceeded:

  "And you, forsooth, were never even to be told about your father and wasto carry the name of Rayner--a name a deal sight lower than Morpeth. Ican show you the very house you was born in and where you was bred tillyou was took to England. It's not far from this veree spot. Your auntsaid as how she would live no longer in half-caste holes, though she wasa good bit darker than me, if you'll remember. And Mr. Morpeth, he tooka bungalow for them, and they lived there like fighting-cocks till theytook you away across the black water. Being a kid, maybe you'll notmind, but there's more than one in Chandrychoke, including my mother,that minds well. So why you're squealin' and fightin' with me fortellin' the veree facts, I can't see," he wound up querulously, as hetried to peer into Rayner's face which was now turned towards him,appearing ghastly white, his eyes staring vacantly.

  Some moments elapsed, and as Rayner still did not speak, the youth beganto get impatient, and moreover, longed for his supper.

  "I'll be steppin' townwards now, sir," he said timidly, keeping his eyesfixed on the rigid face. Mechanically Alfred Rayner drew from his smalltravelling satchel the bag of rupees, and held it out to the clerk,whose long thin fingers closed upon it. Without waiting to count themoney he hurried off across the grass, never halting till he was wellclear of the Shrine of Kali. Then he sat down under one of the oil lampswhich skirted the road.

  "I wonder if he's given me up to our bargain," he mutter
ed. "Shouldn'twonder if he's divided it by half seeing he took my prime bit of newsthatt bad. Oh my gracious me, to think of his turning up his nose 'causeMr. Morpeth was his father, and him not fit to black his boots, for allhis airs and fine clothes! I saw well the boss didn't seem to think muchof him. Yes," he added, with a gratified start, after counting themoney. "I declare, the hundred rupees is here all right. My gracious,some folks be fools and no mistake!" Then he jumped up and proceeded towalk home with brisk steps.

  How long Alfred Rayner stood in the shadow of Kali's Shrine he nevercould have told, nor would he have wished to recall. Waves of miseryseemed to roll over him. For long he could not steady his thoughts, andwhen he partially succeeded, his fury only grew apace. He saw it allnow, he said to himself. From his very birth he had been the cruel sportof an evil fate! How he recognised his Aunt Flo in the touches the clerkhad given! Yes, she _was_ dark, and used to delight in recounting howshe had been a beautiful brunette in her day, though she always dweltwith complacency on his being a fair-skinned boy! He recalled that morethan once since his return to India he had been haunted by asubconscious feeling that there might be a strain of the hatedhalf-caste blood in his veins. It was that fear which he had hardlyallowed to cross his mind which had proved the origin of his attitudetowards the whole class, while to David Morpeth his hatred had amountedto an obsession. Never could he behold the man without a sense of bitterannoyance which he knew full well, had found vent on more than oneoccasion. He recalled that evening when he had almost trampled on him ashe was driving home in his mail-phaeton--and Cheveril's remonstrance.The whole scene sprang vividly into his memory. In his impotent rage hewished the hoofs of his Australians had trampled the life out of himthat night. And again when he had crossed his path on the steps of hisown house--ah, he remembered it well. It had been the occasion of hisfirst quarrel with Hester.

  "Oh, Hester, I had forgotten you!" he groaned. "She's bound to hear thisawful disclosure. The secret seems common property. Perhaps she'll turnfrom me, or worse still, she will take sides with that half-caste,Cheveril. But after all this vile secret may be long in filteringthrough. My role is to put a bold front on it, and hold up my head andpose as heretofore as a pure-bred Englishman. If any rumour reaches mywife's ear I can squash it by persuading her that the whole thing is aslander trumped up by my enemies. But the allowance? I can't, I shan'tcontinue to finger a penny of the money that comes from that man! I'llthrow it back in his face, hard up as I am, at least I'll commandTruelove Brothers to do so. I'll have no dealings with him. I'll passhim as before. I'll let the hoofs of my horses trample on him if theywill. No mawkish sentiment for me! I'm not going to risk my reputationby having it known my father is a half-caste--even if it's true! Thewhole story may be a lie. I may only be some ward of his, and heswindling me with but a slice of my fortune."

  A prey to seething thoughts, almost without knowing it he had started onhis homeward walk. At the moment when he clung to the hope that afterall he was the victim of some conspiracy and that there was no blood-tiebetween him and the hated community, he happened to glance up at abungalow which was now brightly lit by oil lamps. Its circular verandahwas ornamented with trellis-work eaves, among which tendrils of a darkglossy creeper intertwined. Suddenly there sprang to his mind theconviction that he had seen that spot long ago. Yes, those trellis-workeaves had looked down upon him when he was a little boy! One day he hadgleefully rolled a new bright painted wheelbarrow along that verandah,and the giver of that wheelbarrow, a grave, silent big man with greyeyes, stood by watching him as he played, with a smile on his face--thesmile of David Morpeth! Then the little boy had pushed his wheelbarrowdown those red steps and run full tilt at the gardener's baby, a little,naked, brown urchin, who stood gazing open-mouthed, and knocked himdown, while the air rent with his shrill cries. Then the smile vanishedfrom the face of the big man, and with a stern air he brought hisfingers down sharply on the owner of the new wheelbarrow, who in histurn gave an angry yell which brought a half-dressed woman with longblack locks falling about her to the verandah. She had folded the boy inher arms, saying shrilly: "What are you doing to my _chota sahib_? Youshall not touch my precious one with your big hands."

  "I punished him for knocking down the gardener's boy, Flora," answered agrave voice.

  "A native brat! What matter of thatt?"

  And the grave voice replied: "If you bring the boy up like this, FloraRayner, he'll turn out a scoundrel." Then the big man turned away withsad, stern eyes--the eyes of David Morpeth!

  It was Alfred Rayner's only memory of the past, but it leapt out now, aclear-cut picture, as he stood gazing on the once familiar spot.

  "Bah! What have I, an English gentleman bred, to do with such anightmare," he muttered, shrugging his shoulders, as he walked off withquickened steps. "I'll bury the whole thing fathoms deep."

  He did not slacken his pace till the feebly-lit road merged into thebright streets of the city. Seeing the doors of a hotel standinginvitingly open, he paused.

  "I'm hopelessly late for the Melford's dinner now, I'd better fortify myinner man here," he said to himself, and hurried up the steps. "This madmeeting at the Shrine of Kali has robbed me of my usual appetite. I'lljust toss down a glass of brandy to strengthen my nerves before I facethat estimable couple."

  The stimulant seemed restoring. He passed out to the street again andhailed a tikka-gharry to drive him to Ballygunge Road without furtherdelay.

  His host and hostess could not help greeting him with inquiring eyes onhis arrival.

  "A most discourteous guest I must appear, Mrs. Melford. But pray don'tpass sentence on me till you have heard my sad tale," he said lightly."Well, to begin with, when I emerged from Truelove Brothers I foundthat I was hopelessly late for your tiffin, and also for joining thesteam-launch party. I refreshed myself as best I could at a place near,and then set out to mow down some calls, seeing that the pleasure of anafternoon on the river was beyond my reach. Then I lost myself, as onemay well do in this labyrinth of a place. At last I managed to pick up agharry and here I am, full of contrition for my bad behaviour. Hope youforgive me, Mrs. Melford?"

  "Oh, but I'm sorry you missed our river picnic. It was so delightful andcool. What a strange day you seem to have had," the hostess added, witha musing air which Mr. Rayner did not relish.

  "Didn't Fyson offer you tiffin?" asked Mr. Melford.

  "He did not--most inhospitable, wasn't it?" said Mr. Rayner quickly,assuming an injured air.

  "Strange! I happen to know that the partners of Trueloves' always havean ample table--covers for anybody who may turn up. In fact they'rereckoned most hospitable," said Mr. Melford, deciding that things hadevidently not turned out as his guest had expected. Conversation beganto flag, then Mr. Rayner remembered that he had letters to attend to.

  "No, thanks," he said, declining his host's invitation to the smokingroom. "I've indulged in too many exciting cheroots to-day already"; andwith a light laugh he withdrew to his own room.

  "Rayner's not in good form to-night," remarked his host.

  "Oh, Jack, I can't suffer him! He's all 'form,' it seems to me. Hedoesn't look a true man. I'm very sorry for his wife. Is he quite, quiteEnglish, do you think? Did you notice his fingers, and there is surelysomething oriental in those eyes of his, they're fine, but there'ssomething--I only noticed it since he came in to-night."

  "Oh, well, he was born in this country. I have thought once or twice hemay have dark blood in him, but dear me, even if he has. There are manyexcellent Eurasians! Much more sterling characters among them than heseems to be turning out. He used to be a clever, amusing fellow, but itstrikes me from what Tresham said he's been spending too much, and thatdemoralises a man, of course. Perhaps his wife is a butterfly--fond ofshow!"

  "Ah, there you are, the poor wife always gets the blame! Remember Mr.Tresham said she was very charming and good. The same can't be said ofher husband, I fear," said Mrs. Melford, looking at her lord and masterwith a glance of satisfaction.
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  Next morning Mrs. Melford could not help feeling a sense of relief whenher guest announced that he found he must at once return home--that morethan one case in the High Court claimed his presence.

  That evening Alfred Rayner sailed down the Hoogly carrying his secretwith him on his way back to Madras.

 

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