CHAPTER XXX.
Joy and bustle reigned supreme in the corner house of Salamander Street,Vepery. Even its shabby exterior, with patches of chunam peeling off,disclosing its flimsy walls of lath and mud, was sharing in the dawn ofcoming prosperity. For had not its tenant, Mrs. Baltus, received aletter from Mrs. Matilda Rouat, her well-to-do widowed sister-in-law inCalcutta, announcing that she was desirous of paying her a lengthenedvisit as a paying guest? The impulse which prompted the decision was anunselfish one in the main. Rumours had lately reached Mrs. Rouat thather sister-in-law was in straitened circumstances. Being a shrewd andnot unkindly soul, she decided that she might lighten the domesticburden and at the same time break the monotony of her days inChandrychoke, the Eurasian quarter of the city where she had lived allher life.
Mrs. Rouat had even been thoughtful enough to forward "anadvance"--without which important adjunct it is well nigh impossible toset the wheels of labour moving among Eastern artizans. A basket-workmender squatted in the verandah splicing the dilapidated bamboo chairswhich formed the principal furniture of the bungalow rooms. Another wasdeftly patching the rattan-matting on the floors in case Aunt Tilly'sponderous form should be laid prone by reason of its many dangerousslits. The butler, a newly enlisted functionary--having been dismissedfrom higher service owing to the discovery of clumsy pilfering--wasflying about in a crumpled tunic, a relic of better days, his turban allawry, trying to impress "missus" with his zeal in her service. On thelittle gravel sweep with its border of burnt-up grass, stood amiscellaneous collection of furniture, almirahs, cots, washstands, allreceiving, at the hands of a scantily clad coolie, a coat of liquidwhich he called "Frenchee polishee," but which was really a cheapdecoction that, in spite of the strong sun-rays, would retain itsstickiness till it proved the object of much vituperation to all whosefingers came in contact with it. Mrs. Baltus, however, was charmed withits rejuvenating effect on her ancient furniture, and stepped aboutbriskly trying to get her money's worth out of the various workers,while her daughter Leila sat darning rents in the muslin curtains, andpondering as to what were her most pressing needs and desires when shegot Aunt Tilly to open her purse at the drapery counter of Messrs. Oakes& Co.
Mrs. Rouat was a great contrast to her lean, brown-skinnedsister-in-law. She was almost blonde in colouring, her cheeks wereruddy, and her suffused watery eyes distinctly blue; while her treblechin, stout figure, and condition of well-to-do preservation suggestedthat she belonged to one of the lower orders of the British race ratherthan to one who had any admixture of Oriental blood. Being considerablyupset by her three days at sea, Mrs. Rouat at first was quite satisfiedto recline in a long bamboo chair while she listened to hersister-in-law's narrations concerning the hard times they had undergone,or was entertained by her niece playing a jingling tune on the wheezyold piano.
Presently, however, Aunt Tilly got tired of the four chunam walls of thesitting-room, though they had been washed gleaming white for herbenefit. She decided that she might even forego in some measure thebenefit of the punkah which was swung from the centre of the highceiling, and shift her quarters to the window where she could entertainherself by watching the passers-by, which she perceived was the chiefrecreation of her niece.
Being installed there one afternoon she happened to catch sight of onewith whose appearance she had once been familiar. In spite of the flightof years which had whitened his head and bent his shoulders, she at oncerecognised him.
"Well now, Leila, if thatt ain't David Morpeth--him as used to live inthe best Eurasian quarter in Calcutta in my back days!"
"Oh, he's no rare sight," returned Leila contemptuously. "You can seehim passing any day of the week. He goes in for meetings and clubs--forthe good of us Vepery folk, if you please! I give him, and the likes ofhim, a wide berth."
"And for whatt do you do thatt?" asked Aunt Tilly, in a disapprovingvoice.
"Oh, they'd like to catch me and tie me to a mission stool. But I'm amatch for the likes of them!"
"Well now, Leila, it strikes me you're standin' in your own light asregards thatt one, any way. He was always a good sort, was DavidMorpeth. I might say one of the best, for his papa and mamma were wellset folk in Daramtalla, and David had a grand post in Truelove Brothers.They say he was the first Eurasian they ever made a partner. But whattdid he do but spoil himself with his marriage to a flibberty-gibbet,Rosina Castro, and never had a day's happiness till she died when theirboy was born. Flo, her sister, took the boy away to England with her--asif his native land wasn't good enough for him! I don't know whatt becameof them. I lost sight of the whole lot. But, Leila, since you say thattDavid lives near and often passes, I've a mind to waylay him and have achat about old times. No, I'll do better than thatt. I'll just make boldand give him a call--and take you with me. Suppose we hire thatt littleebandy you were speaking of? We can go first to Morpeth's place and thentake a drive to the fashionable beach. Yes, thatt will do veree nicely.I'd like to go drivin' up in prettee style to Morpeth's place," shewound up, patting her cinnamon-tinted curls with an air ofsatisfaction.
"Verree well, Aunt Tilly," replied Leila, delighted to hear that hersuggestion of a drive to the beach was responded to, and deciding not tooppose the proposed-visit to Mr. Morpeth, though the project was by nomeans to her liking. "As like as not his boy will say 'Master can'tsee,'" she said to herself, "but if he does let us in and he beginscoaxin' me about thatt Girls' Club, I'll stand firm. Never will I setfoot within thatt door again to be patronised by the like of her"; andMiss Baltus bent over her work with an angry heart.
The hired bandy, its syce arrayed in an out-at-the-elbows blue tunic andturban, arrived duly one afternoon at the door of the house inSalamander Street. The carriage had to wait some time till Mrs. Rouatand her niece had given the finishing touches to their gay visitingtoilettes. At length the older lady sank down with a sigh ofsatisfaction on the cushions provided by her sister-in-law as a needfuladdition to the springless seats of the country vehicle.
"What a grand bungalow and what a prettee garden!" she exclaimed as thecarriage drew up at Mr. Morpeth's house. "It's easy to see he's a man ofsubstance, Leila!"
She inquired in anxious tones if she could have a sight of the master.Mootoo at once showed the visitors into the long library, which wasuntenanted. The pair remained in a standing posture, Mrs. Rouat's eyeswandering over the room with keen curiosity, while even her niece couldnot restrain her interest in the interior of the abode with whoseexterior she had been familiar all her life.
"Whatt an expense all these prettee books must have been to ship overthe black water!" remarked Mrs. Rouat, glancing with awe at thewell-filled shelves. "I wonder now if he reads them," she added,recalling with a sigh how long it took her to toil through a singlepage of print. Leila, who devoured many second-hand yellow backs, smiledwith secret scorn at her aunt's remark.
A step was heard approaching, and the master of the house appeared inthe doorway. His face wore a puzzled expression as he could not recallthat rotund figure with the flabby face framed by cinnamon-hued curls,who rose to meet him with a broad smile and outstretched hands. Leila heknew by sight, and from Mrs. Fellowes' description was able to identifyher as the girl who had obtruded herself mysteriously into the verandahat Clive's Road. He decided that the visit must have some connectionwith her--perhaps she had repented of her resentful attitude and waswishing to connect herself with the Girls' Club.
With this thought passing rapidly through his mind he begged hisvisitors to be seated; but Mrs. Rouat did not long leave him in doubt asto the reason of her call.
"You don't recognise an old acquaintance, Mr. Morpeth?" she asked,setting her head on one side and looking up into his face. "Leastways,an acquaintance of your late wife, Rosina. Ah, she was a pretteecreature!" she added, with a heavy manufactured sigh.
Mr. Morpeth still looked mystified, so she continued in a higher key:
"So you don't mind Tilly Buttons as used to live next door to yourRosina in Chandrychoke? B
ut I've got one of the best houses in thequarter now, though I'm onlee a poor widow. I was well endowed by thelate Mr. Rouat. Ah, he was a good husband."
Recollection was dawning on Mr. Morpeth.
"Yes, I remember your name," he said slowly. "And you are a widow now.Time brings changes!"
He glanced now at Leila, who sat with a constrained air, averting hereyes.
"Ah, Mr. Morpeth," said Mrs. Rouat, mopping her face with her damphandkerchief. "It is true whatt you say! How beautifulee you put it.Time does bring changes! And to you, too, time has brought changes."
"And you, have you left Calcutta and come to live in Vepery?" Mr.Morpeth asked, preferring to divert the conversation from matterspersonal to himself.
"Live in Vepery! No thank you, not when I have the most beautifulup-stair house in all Chandrychoke, besides a good bit of house propertyround about! No, I'm onlee on a visit to my poor widowed sister-in-law,Mrs. Sarah Baltus."
"Ah, yes, and you are Mrs. Baltus' daughter?" said Mr. Morpeth, lookingwith a kindly smile on Leila.
"She is, and as nice a girl as ever stepped," chimed in Mrs. Rouat witha gratified air, "though I allow she's a bit stand-offish in manner forher station in life," she added apologetically, noting her niece'sdefiant, sulky air. "But things is going to look up now thatt I've come.I'm going to give them a good lift up before I've done. Some fineparties and some nice drives to the fashionable beach will set them upwonderful." Mrs. Rouat rolled her eyes upon her niece, who still satwith a sullen air; Mr. Morpeth made no comment on the programme.
"And so you live all alone in this veree fine house?" continued Mrs.Rouat, now fixing her eyes interrogatively on Mr. Morpeth's face. "Ah,wouldn't this grand bungalow have pleased Rosina! She was thatt fond ofstyle! Ah, well, she's gone, but it was a thousand peeties you didn'tkeep hold on thatt child--a fine boy he was. But Rosina had set herheart on sending him across the black water to make an Englishman ofhim, and so you let Flo take him. Oh, it was a peety! Just think what acomfort he might have been to you now."
Mrs. Rouat's benevolent face looked with concern on the bent frame ofthe acquaintance of her youth. "What's become of him? I hope he isstill in the land of the livin'?" she asked, seeing Mr. Morpeth's facegrow grey and drawn.
He seemed to hesitate whether he should break the silence. At length,with evident effort, he replied:
"No, my son is not dead. He still lives."
Then, determining to change the subject, he turned to Leila and fixedhis searching eyes on her.
"And you take care of your mother in Salamander Street?" he saidencouragingly.
"Mrs. Baltus is quite able to take care of herself," she returned. "Ilive with her because I've been jilted and have nowhere else to live,"said the girl, tossing her head.
"Oh, my gracious, what rubbishee stuff is this?" cried her aunt withuplifted hands. "Never did I hear the like."
Deciding that since Leila was so sulky and her host so "stuck-up," shewould rather enjoy the hired bandy in bowling along the Madras roadsthan remain longer surrounded by those awe-inspiring books. She rose totake leave, much to the relief of her niece, who later recounted to hermother that "it was quite a wasted hour. The man was as stiff as a pokerand wished Aunt Tilly and her twaddle at the bottom of the sea!"
Mrs. Rouat took her seat among the cushions in the bandy with a sense ofdisappointment. Her visit had evidently not been a pleasure to her oldacquaintance.
"Sure, I wanted nothing more from David Morpeth but a hearty word forthe sake of old times!" she sighed.
"Maybe, Aunt Tilly, but the man's so used to Eurasian beggars he couldonly credit us with being on some such whining errand."
"Oh, fie, Leila Baltus, you _are_ bitter! How could he class us withsuch? But I don't think he half liked my rippin' up his old mess byreferrin' to Rosina though," added Mrs. Rouat musingly. "'Pon my word,he turned as white as a pucka Englishman at the veree mention of hername."
"My gracious, from whatt you've been tellin' me about Rosina I think hemust have been precious glad to be rid of her--and her brat too! But itwas when you spoke of the son thatt he grew so white. I was sharp enoughto see thatt. Anyhow I'm glad I choked off any fuss about my joinin' theGirls' Club. He didn't even get a word in sideways about thatt, though Iread in his eye he'd have liked to have a try!"
"And whatt if he did? It would only be for your good! But whatt ever wasthatt nonsense you were speakin' about bein' jilted? Was it all amake-up?"
"A make-up! I wish it were," returned Leila bitterly. "I suppose I amnot the onlee woman who has had thatt trouble. But if she's not a foolshe'll get even with the man, as I mean to do yet!"
This remark was lost on Mrs. Rouat, owing to the jingling of the bandyon the laterite road, and conversation flagged amid the distractions ofthe surroundings.
The drive to the beach was such an unwonted experience to Leila that shesoon recovered her equanimity, while her aunt enjoyed herself lollingback among the cushions. The growing heat of the day made thecomparative coolness of the evening welcome to the jaded dwellers inMadras. The south wind with its accompaniment of damp and red dust wasnow replaced by gentle zephyrs from the golden west. Leila was anxiousto make the most of her rare opportunity of seeing "the quality," andalso desirous to impress her aunt with the elegance of her surroundings.She directed the bandy-wallah to drive along Government Park Road andcross the fine bridge over the Cooum from where they could catch abetter glimpse of the island which, in spite of the waxing heat, stillglimmered green, so that one could hardly believe the close grimystreets of Black Town were not a mile distant from the verdant retreat.
There was still a number of carriages driving beach-wards, although theexodus to the hills had begun. Those whose lot it was to linger on thehot plains, having less energy for paying calls or taking part ingymkhanas, always at this evening hour drove to the shore to breathe thesea air. The occupants of the various carriages were often content toconduct conversations with each other while sitting in their respectivechariots. Some, more enterprising, alighted and took a stroll on thewell-kept promenade which flanked the expanse of sand sloping to thewaves, where a little company of pale-faced English babies trottedabout, pecking at the wet sand with their tiny spades, guarded by theirayahs and boys who squatted beside them, ever their devoted slaves,patiently erecting mimic sand forts and bridges to be imperiouslyannihilated by their little lords and masters.
Desirous of getting the full benefit of each phase of the evening, Mrs.Rouat insisted that her bandy should take a good place among the ranksof carriages. She reclined for some time talking volubly, watching withdelight the English children disporting themselves, and taking a keeninterest in the growing throng of carriages, estimating their owners bythe elegance of their equipages, while the smart morning toilettes,fresh from the latest box from home, were a source of inspiration toboth aunt and niece, and projects were set on foot for their imitationas nearly as might be reached by the _dersai_.
Presently Mrs. Rouat announced that she desired to alight and minglewith the strollers, which seemed the "most chic thing to do," as sheexpressed it, especially as she realised that the bandy did not makesuch an elegant setting for herself and her handsome niece as shedesired.
With Leila's help her ponderous person was safely landed on thepavement, and the pair set out on their promenade to make a closerinspection of the "fine societee."
"Now, Leila, here comes whatt I call a downright handsome pair," Mrs.Rouat remarked enthusiastically, as a young couple came towards them."Oh, my, whatt a lovelee lady! I haven't seen such a beautee all mydays!"
Her niece had caught sight of the pair a moment before as they drove upin their shining landau. Her keen eye had watched the gentleman help thelady to alight, and she knew that she was coming face to face with Mr.and Mrs. Alfred Rayner. With darkening visage and beating heart shewalked by her aunt's side, who fortunately, in her excitement over the"prettee lady," had unlinked her arm from her niece's, else she wouldhave felt the trem
or that was passing over the girl's frame.
Mrs. Rouat's stare was so marked that Hester could not help beingconscious of it. She decided that she must be some Vepery mother whoknew her, then she caught sight of the girl's haughty face marked byrage and hate as she fixed her gaze on her husband, who met it with astony stare of well-assumed unrecognition.
"Oh my gracious me, whatt's the matter now, Leila Baltus?" exclaimed heraunt. "You look all the colours of the rainbow! Has this walkingbusiness been too much for you? Come, let's turn! My legs has got astraightenin'. But, girl, whatever's ailin' you? Why are you glowerin'after thatt couple as if you could stick them? They ain't no friends ofyours, surelee! They're too high up for thatt."
"Friends of mine!" echoed the girl with a harsh laugh. "The devil's myfriend if that man is! I'll not hide it from you, Aunt Tilly, now you'vespotted him. He's the veree one that jilted me most foully--went off andwed thatt one in England when he should have wedded me. Oh, I hate her!Don't tell me she's a beautee! My feelin's won't bear it"; and the girlthrew herself into the bandy, covered her face and sobbed convulsively.
"Well I never! This is a prettee kettle of fish! You in an opencarriage sittin' howlin' like a babee. Come now, Leila, be sensible! Putyour hat straight, fan your eyes, and tell me all about this jilt ofyours. My word, he looks bold enough! He seems to feature someone to mymind. Whatt's his name, Leila?"
"Alfred Rayner," responded the girl, her wild paroxysm being succeededby a sullen air.
"Alfred Rayner, did you say?" exclaimed Mrs. Rouat in open-mouthedastonishment. "Why, if thatt isn't the veree name I was chasin' after inmy head when I sat in that fine libraree of David Morpeth's. Rayner wasFlo's name, and Rosina called her boy Alfred, thinkin' it a veree grandname. He's Rosina's boy! He's handsome, but a pert lookin' baggage, thevery image of his mother! Well, if this isn't an odd meetin' on theMadras beach!"
"Then Alf Rayner's old Morpeth's son? La, whatt a lark!" said the girl,with an alert expression coming into her eyes. "Do you know, Aunt Tilly,he sets up for hating us Eurasians like poison--and he's as much ahalf-caste as any of us!"
"Of course he is! Did you ever doubt it, you silly? With my faircomplexion--I pass, but Rosina's son--never!"
"Oh my gracious, but this is a joke," laughed Leila harshly. "Why, I'vebegun to be even with the man already! Didn't he taunt my mother that henever dreamed of marryin' among the like of us? This is a prime secretyou've let us into, Aunt Tilly! I'm sure his elegant wife doesn't knowhe's a half-caste!"
"More than like the lad don't know it himself," returned her aunt,shaking her head. "His Aunt Flo was as big a fibber as was goin', and aboaster into the bargain! She'd never have let him into the truth--notif she could keep it from him!"
"I say, Aunt Tilly," said Leila eagerly. "Wouldn't it be a good joke tolook in on them one fine afternoon when you have the bandy again and letout the secret on them? 'Twould be a bombshell to Alf as well as tothatt proud English ladee! She don't look half such a beautee as she didwhen I first caught sight of her. Well, whatt do you say to my plan?"
"Wouldn't it be kind of spiteful?" objected Mrs. Rouat. "Mind you,Leila, I don't go in with malice!"
"Well then, couldn't we just pay them a visit as you did Mr. Morpeth?Your veree clever at managing, and you would get a sight of theirlovelee fine house into the bargain."
"I own I'd like to have another good look at Rosina's boy and thatprettee wife of his. But I can't afford to hire the bandy again for abit."
"Oh, as to thatt, Alf won't run away. A call will do any time," the girlwound up, resolving that before many days elapsed she would lead AuntTilly triumphantly to Clive's Road and at last "be even" with the manshe hated.
* * * * *
"There are only half-caste bounders crawling about here, Hester," saidAlfred Rayner irritably, after the encounter with Leila Baltus and heraunt. "Mrs. Glanton and all our acquaintances have gone to the hills. Gowhere you will, seemingly, you only get stared at by these odiouscreatures. Suppose we go towards the Ice House, where we may get achance of the pavement to ourselves."
Hester agreed, nothing loth to prolong her walk, and they wandered onfacing the coast with its circling outlets and the great swelling oceanflooded now by the evanescent afterglow of the setting sun. Hester's eyewas fascinated by the tender spreading light. She was gazing intentlyseaward, and did not notice the solitary pedestrian who was slowlyapproaching them. Her husband did, however, and now and here in thispeaceful gloaming was to be enacted a supreme tragedy for two lives. Nottill they were face to face did Hester perceive that the solitary walkerwas none other than David Morpeth. Her heart throbbed uneasily, for shehad remarked that more than once even the mention of his name had beenthe signal for a furious outburst on her husband's part. Her facebetrayed her nervousness as she bowed and smiled. But to-night DavidMorpeth had no eyes for his sweet young friend who held such a warmplace in his heart. A letter had reached him from Mr. Fyson of TrueloveBrothers some days ago which definitely told him that Alfred was nowaware of their close relationship, though Mr. Fyson had refrained fromsharing with him the cruel words in which Alfred announced that for thefuture he rejected with disdain his father's allowance. This was acrucial moment for both--their first meeting since the son was inpossession of the secret of his birth. For a second he stared with asearching, fascinated glance at his father's face; while the father, ashe raised his hat to Hester, was casting a yearning look of love andlonging upon his son. Then he held out his hand, not to Hester, but tohis son. Had Alfred willed it, a moment more and life might have beenchanged for both these defrauded ones! But the young man's corruptedwill leant all the other way. He held his hand stiffly by his side,saying:
"Come along, Hester, the breeze is getting chilly!" He put his arm inhers and almost pulled her away. "Didn't I tell you the beach was simplycrawling with these half-castes to-night," he muttered, as he pushedpast his father with an angry scowl.
The old man's hand dropped. His face took an ashen hue. The bedrock oftrouble had been fathomed. He gazed after his son with a face ofunutterable sorrow.
"Oh my God!" he groaned. "Save him from the curse of spurning a father'slove! Is this my punishment for the sore blunder I made in keeping arash vow?" And he moved on with the step of a broken man.
"Alfred, how could you? Oh, this is terrible," murmured Hester, with alook of horror mingled with fear as she glanced at her husband'sscowling face. She felt she must protest, whatever it cost her. "Didyou not see he wanted to speak to us?--to you particularly? He even heldout his hand to you and you were so cold--oh, so cruel!"
"Yes, I meant to be! There's no other way of choking off thesehalf-castes. I tell you, Hester, if you want to be a good wife to meyou'll cut all that connection with Vepery. It's only a perpetualannoyance to both of us."
Hester made no reply, and was glad to take refuge in the carriage and bedriven swiftly home without exchanging words with her husband. Sheabsented herself from dinner with a sense of physical illness upon heras well as a heart sick with sorrow and shame.
Had she known it, her husband's waking thoughts that evening, as well ashis dreams that night, might have found a place in Dante's Inferno. Hishaggard aspect was piteous to behold when he came down to late breakfastnext morning. There had been no rising with the dawn for him; hisfeverish dreams did not vanish with the night, but made part and parcelof all his daylight hours.
A Bottle in the Smoke: A Tale of Anglo-Indian Life Page 30