CHAPTER XXVIII.
On the morning of his return from Madras, as the train was sweeping intothe station at Puranapore, Mark Cheveril noticed among the passengersgathered on the platform for the up train the Mahomedan, Zynool Sahib.He had never exchanged words with him since the morning at the Kutchery,of which he retained an unpleasant recollection. His feeling wasevidently reciprocated by the Mussulman, for a scowl was distinctlyvisible on his ruddy brown face as soon as he caught sight of theAssistant-Collector.
"That man suggests the hatching of evil plots every time I set eyes onhim," said Mark to himself, as he watched the heavy form lurching intoone of the carriages for Madras. "Fortunately we give each other a wideberth!"
Mark stepped into his waiting bandy and was driven towards thecantonment, as it was still called though bereft of its militaryelement. When about half-way to his bungalow, he perceived, under theshade of a spreading neem tree, two men apparently engaged in earnestconversation. Without difficulty he recognised one of them as Moideen,the Collector's trusted butler. His companion was surely none other thanZynool, though he had certainly seen his legs disappearing into arailway carriage some minutes ago and knew that he must now be on hisway to the city. This then must be his double! Height, gestures,features, and the dense black beard, all seemed an exact facsimile ofthe Puranapore magnate. Mark, however, soon became preoccupied by otherthoughts, and the incident faded from his memory for the time being.
He found the Collector busy in his office preparing for his intendedtour on the following morning.
"I want to hear all your news presently, Cheveril," said Mr. Worsley,glancing up from his papers with kindly greeting. "How did the meetinggo off--and your speech? Was your ideal Eurasian up to the mark? Thatisn't meant to be a pun, by the way, though it might be mistaken forone! And how is that charming friend of yours--Hester--hate to call herby her husband's name! You saw her too, eh? Well, come and tell me allabout her to-night at dinner. I'll warn Moideen to excel himself in themenu!"
The Collector settled himself to his files again, and Mark to hisyesterday's arrears.
When they met at dinner, Mr. Worsley was in his happiest mood andencouraged his guest to give a detailed account of all his doings inMadras. He seemed really interested in the opening of the new hall andreading-room in Vepery, for the benefit of which he had gladdened Mr.Morpeth's heart by sending a handsome donation. He was also eager tohear the latest accounts of Hester, to whom he always referred in a toneof warmest admiration mingled with pity. The incident at the close ofthe ball at Government House still rankled.
"The worst of it is that the fellow scored--actually scored," he said,describing the scene to Mark. "That sweet girl was punished for myhaving angered her husband by a chilly attitude when we were introducedearlier in the evening. I simply sat dumfounded on that sofa after thewretch had, one might say, dragged her off! What a life she is bound tohave--what a vista of misery!" There was a sorrowful light in theCollector's eyes as he spoke, and he went on: "I declare it's moredeadly for a woman to be tied to a bad husband than for a man to bemated to a selfish, unprincipled wife! In the latter case one cansometimes keep the seas between as a protecting barrier; but for thatpoor child I can only foresee a cruel future. How different thingsmight have been--should have been," he added, darting a keen glance athis companion, whose face looked grave and troubled.
"Well, the sea does protect her just at this moment," returned Mark,rousing himself. "Rayner has taken himself off to Calcutta on a visit tosome acquaintance there. But even about that, according to ColonelFellowes whom I chanced to meet at the station, he behaved badly. Thetrip was first meant to include Hester, and she was looking forward toit, when Rayner is said to have stumbled on an undesirable acquaintancewho persuaded him to go to Bombay and have what he called a 'good time'there."
"And so his poor wife was thrown overboard! Well, she's better withouthim, anyhow!"
"I was glad to see her looking so well and happy. She was evidentlyenjoying her visit to the Fellowes."
"I'm truly glad to hear it," said Mr. Worsley warmly. "She needs arespite from that thraldom. Yes, Mrs. Fellowes looks good, and herhusband is an excellent fellow, quite the best type of sepoy officer,and has a splendid record. Did very well at the Mutiny."
The dinner was now over, and the soft-footed servants having arrangedthe fruit and wine, had retired. When Mark saw Moideen's retreatingfigure, he was reminded of the incident of the morning.
"Has Zynool a twin-brother in town or anywhere?" he asked.
"I hope not; one of Zynool's kidney is quite enough!"
"I ask because I saw, on my way from the station, a man exactly like himin close conversation with your butler."
"Zynool himself, no doubt! I wish he would let Moideen alone. I suspectthere has been more mischief done than I'm aware of by these twohobnobbing," said the Collector irritably.
"No, it couldn't have been Zynool. There's the puzzle. Because I happento have seen Zynool stepping into the train for Madras. It's reallymystifying, now I come to think of it! If the man was not Zynool, as isphysically impossible, it must have been his double."
"I have it," exclaimed Mr. Worsley. "It must have been my _Tahsildar_ atLerode, Mahomet Usman. I once saw him and Zynool side by side, and I ownthe likeness was remarkable. I happened to mention the fact and observedthey both looked displeased. Mahomet Usman looked particularly glum andvowed he was no relative of Zynool's. But if the man is about to-day,why did he not present himself at the office? However, I shall clear thematter up soon, for I have intimated a visit to him to-morrow. I wonderhe didn't look in when he was here. But there's no use trying to fathomthese natives. Let's get to our cheroots and pass to pleasanter topics."
Mr. Worsley seemed in such comfortable health and spirits when Mark badehim good-night, that he was not a little surprised next morning when, atthe hour appointed for starting on tour, one of the clerks who was toaccompany the party called at his bungalow to say that the Collector wasreported very unwell--quite unable to move from his bed, far less totravel.
Mark hurried to his chief to find him haggard and suffering. He wishedat once to summon the doctor, but the Collector had a prejudice againstall medical surveillance and would not hear of it, setting down hissymptoms to mere biliousness caused by Moideen's efforts to please hispalate. He certainly recovered wonderfully before evening, but on Mark'svisiting him early next morning he found him suffering violent pain andattacked at intervals by severe sickness. This time he did not wait toconsult the sufferer, but went at once to summon Dr. Campbell, justcatching him before he started for the Dispensary in the town.
The doctor soon showed by his manner that he regarded the case asserious. The patient was fast sinking into a comatose condition. After aminute examination Dr. Campbell turned to Mark, and taking him asidetold him that he had no doubt it was a case of poisoning, probably anoverdose administered last night, which, with the help of the milder oneon the previous night, was threatening to prove very serious.
"The action of the poison has been more effective than the poisonerintended probably," remarked the doctor.
"This is very serious," said Mark, alarm written on his face.
"Serious! I should say so! But I'll try to save him yet. I'll be back ina minute. Meanwhile, Cheveril, see you keep close watch by his bed.Don't leave him for an instant," whispered the doctor, and hurried away.He returned in a short time followed by his assistant, and the needfulantidotes were skilfully applied with good result.
Neither the doctor nor Mark ever quitted the patient's bedside till thesun went down. Mr. Worsley seemed to be having some peaceful sleep,though his face looked as drawn and haggard as if he were emerging froma long illness.
Putting his arm through Mark's, Dr. Campbell drew him to the verandahwhich adjoined the bedroom.
"He's safe now, Cheveril, but it's been a close shave. Look here, thishas been Moideen's work. It must be brought home to the villain atonce."
"Yes,"
answered Mark. "I'm confident that man is at the root of it. Butwhat if the Collector won't believe it? He has a very soft side toMoideen, you know."
"Too well I know it! But the man's a criminal and must be brought tojustice. We dare not let his master be in his power a day longer."
Suddenly Mark recalled his glimpse of the butler in close conversationunder the neem tree with Zynool's double. That the interview was in someway closely connected with the barely averted catastrophe, he did notdoubt? But how to prove it?
The doctor had now left, and he sat watching the patient, noting thestronger breathing of the sleeping man, and trying to unravel the tangleof recent events without success. He had always distrusted Moideen sincethat first evening when he had watched his brown be-ringed feet plantedbehind the screen door while the Collector explained some of thedifficulties of the government of Puranapore. He had no doubt ofMoideen's present villainy, but how to get the Collector to admit it tohis mind and to send from his side the capable servant of years, wouldprove a difficulty. The doctor's statement he would impatiently brushaside when he returned to health, and would point out that in thiscountry one is always liable to such visitations; milk, fruit, and waterall having possibilities of deadly effects. That this evil man shouldcontinue to have his master's confidence would, Mark felt certain, provefatal sooner or later. Not that Moideen wished to kill his master, farfrom it. Probably he only exercised his unscrupulous power when hedesired to further his own or his accomplices' nefarious designs. Theevil spell must be broken, he resolved--but how?
Help came from an unexpected quarter! The "maty boy," a humbleindividual, and for a wonder, a Hindu, for Moideen generally saw to itthat his staff was composed of Mahomedans, now thrust in his turbanedhead at the door, but withdrew it again in an instant. Mark, perceivingthat something was amiss, went to see. On looking out he perceived the"maty" and another servant exchanging dumb signs of dismay. On inquiringwhat the matter was, they told him in chorus:
"Butler done gone--also Ismail"--the latter being the Collector'sdressing boy. "Not one left in godown; all empty, wife, children, alldone gone!"
The intelligence was certainly unexpected. As the doctor's assistantappeared at that moment to relieve Mark at his post by the patient'sbedside, he felt free to investigate this extraordinary piece of newsfor himself. Moideen was certainly nowhere to be seen; moreover, whenMark was conducted by the "maty" to Moideen's godown, by which humblename the comfortable and commodious quarters fitted up by the Collectorfor his favoured servant were still called, he found them empty. A senseof relief at once began to prevail. The man had by his flight sentencedhimself. Without being arraigned, he had realised his position too well.Possibly the sight of Dr. Campbell's resolute face had struck terrorinto his conscience-stricken heart, or perhaps he had overheard thedoctor's words in the verandah. Anyhow Mark felt that it was the bestnews he could have heard, though the big Jailer shook his head over it,when, on coming to inquire for the sick man, he was informed of theunexpected event.
"I've a good mind to have him tracked and convicted. What do you say,Judge?" he asked, turning to Mr. Goldring, who had also arrived to askafter the Collector.
"If anybody except Worsley was in question I'd have no hesitation insetting everything in train for a capture, but you know, Samptor, whatWorsley is! He'll simply set himself to obstruct justice in this case.He'd hate the publicity of the affair," added the Judge, his blue eyesfull of perplexity.
"Well, after all, the wretch is jolly well punished," returned theJailer. "He's lost his fine soft berth and 'master's favour,' and allthe rest of it. But I don't believe we've got to the bottom of thisaffair yet. Moideen didn't want to put an end to his master, be you sureof that!"
"No, the doctor thinks it was an accident," broke in Mark, "an overdoseof the poison which acted with more deadly effect than was intended.Probably he was frantic when he saw what he had done. There may be aclue."
Mark proceeded to narrate his seeing of Moideen with the man whom theCollector seemed to have no doubt was the Tahsildar of Lerode.
"A clue indeed!" exclaimed Samptor, much interested. "Mahomet Usman nodoubt desired for reasons of his own to have the Collector's visitpostponed for a few days. That's all--though a valuable life was to berisked to attain that end. We're not unfamiliar with such methods, arewe, Judge?"
"Unfortunately not," responded Mr. Goldring, shaking his head.
"Something wrong with his accounts," suggested Mark. "That's theconclusion I've come to. If the Collector will give me permission, assoon as he's able to be left, I'll hurry off to Lerode and look into thematter. We must get to the bottom of Mahomet Usman's tricks. Who knowswhat frauds may have been going on!"
"Let me tell you, you'll find Mahomet Usman's books in perfect order,"returned Samptor. "He only wanted the extra day or two to accomplishthat. They'll not be a pie wrong! It was to prevent any such discovery,don't you see, that our poor Collector has nearly been sacrificed. Byall means, Cheveril, go to Lerode, but the wily Mussulman has got thestart of you. His revenue collection will be all square by to-morrow orthe next day. No doubt Moideen had his orders to keep the Collectorquiet till then. That comes of letting those natives creep so close!Moideen was a clever dog, made himself indispensable to his master'scomfort. Poor Worsley, pity his wife isn't of the sort to be at his sidewith the sharp eyes of my wife!"
Events turned out as Mr. Samptor predicted. Not the most searchingexamination of Mahomet Usman's books disclosed the slightestdefalcation, though Mark felt convinced that the _Tahsildar_ was awarethat the new Assistant was watching for his halting, and also knew thereason why. As to finding any explanation of his conspiracy with theabsconding Moideen, Mark was completely baulked.
The Collector had been very irritable and impatient when his healthadmitted of his being told the cause of his illness, and the certainproof which Moideen had given of his guilt by his flight onlyintensified his annoyance. He seemed indeed aggrieved by the wholeincident and desirous of ignoring it.
Mark felt a new sense of anxiety and a need for greater daily vigilancein the combination of circumstances in which he was now placed. Therelations of the Hindus with the Mahomedans in the town wereincreasingly unsatisfactory, even threatening; though there remained adifference of opinion as to who was the aggressive party. Dr. Campbellcontinued to hold a brief for the Hindus, as indeed did all the membersof the little community except the Collector. Moideen had been replacedby a Mahomedan from Madras bearing a good certificate from his formermaster, and who seemed a much less complex character than the sinisterMoideen.
Perhaps there was no one concerned in the situation who took a graverview of the possibilities of a disturbance among the seething masses ofthe native town than did the young Assistant-Collector, who went abouthis daily work with a watchful air and an anxious heart.
A Bottle in the Smoke: A Tale of Anglo-Indian Life Page 28