Leonie of the Jungle

by Joan Conquest

  CHAPTER XLIII

  "Thence shall I pass, approved A man, for ay removed From the developed brute; a god, Though in the germ."--_Browning_.

  Blazing hot simply did not describe the degree of heat which presseddown upon and around Leonie as she sat totally unconscious of it on theverandah of the Bongong dak bungalow.

  For the benefit of those who have not experienced the assorted joys oftravelling in India, a dak--pronounced dork--bungalow is a travellers'rest, humble or spacious, presided over or not, as the case may be, bya simple and courteous native. They are to be found dotted abouteverywhere--in jungles, on roads, and outside ruined cities; and thereyou can stay for an hour or a night, sleeping in comfort, provided youhave brought your own bedding and mosquito netting; eating according tothe contents of your hamper.

  In the cooler hours vivid flashes of orange and black, or black andred, or turquoise blue and green, or white flit across from tree totree; parrots chatter, crows scream, and the brain-fever bird soothesor irritates you according to your mood, and you tap your fingers onthe table in time to the metallic anvil cry of the coppersmith bird,until a tiger-ant or some such voracious insect claims your undividedattention.

  In the heat of noon the only sounds to break the intense stillness arethe metallic anvil cry of the aforesaid coppersmith bird, and thenever-ceasing call of his brain-fever brother.

  Except for your own there is no movement whatever--the voracious insectis always with you.

  Quite alone in the bungalow, with her back to the open bedroom, Leoniesat undisturbed, with her eyes fixed unseeingly upon the tree-linedroad, and a torrent of disconnected thought swirling through her mind.

  Exactly what she was doing, and why she was doing it, she had no idea;she only knew that do it she must, and was content to let it rest.

  Programme or plan she had none, only an intolerable desire to get tothe ruined temple in the jungle.

  For what?

  She had no notion! She had to get there quickly, that was all she knew.

  She sat on, with her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands,without stirring; in fact you would have sworn she was asleep so stillwas she in the silence broken only by the two birds.

  She could see the car a little way down the road awaiting her, with thedriver curled up sound asleep beside it at the foot of a tree; thebearer asleep too somewhere, she surmised hazily, as the sound of thepacking of the hamper had altogether ceased.

  And then something, instinct maybe, or whatever you like to label theincorporeal look-out in our psychological crow's nest, whispered to herthat it might be wise if she awoke to her surroundings.

  There had not been a sound, nevertheless she felt that somebody stoodquite near to her.

  She did not move her head, but her eyes flashed quickly to right andleft, and she frowned ever so slightly when she remembered that herrevolver had been left behind in Calcutta, safely tucked away at thebottom of her dressing-case.

  As is the usual way when a revolver is owned by woman.

  Nothing stirred except the little curls on the nape of her neck, whichquivered when she shivered involuntarily.

  It happens every day in India! The land where curtains take the placeof wooden doors, and a deferential servant on noiseless, unshod feetglides into your chamber unannounced, and stands patiently behind youuntil it pleases your august self to turn and acknowledge his humblepresence.

  That's what you think, anyway.

  And it takes quite a time to become accustomed to the noiselessness ofthis proceeding, and to control the start which gives you awaycompletely.

  Leonie could stand the uncertainty no longer, she suddenly swept roundin her chair, and remained quite still with her mouth slightly open,and her eyes fixed upon the face of her bearer.

  He was just behind her chair, his white full-skirted coat touching theback of it, his arms folded; but as Leonie turned he took one step backand salaamed with both hands before his face, completely hiding theblazing eyes for the one second sufficient for them to regain theirnormal placid, indifferent look, as he gently made it known that allwas ready if the mem-sahib desired to depart or to sleep.

  Yes, his eyes _had_ blazed as they rested upon the gracious lines ofthis woman he loved, but whom, before he had known her, he had vowed,in the transports of his religion, to bring unto his god.

  Yes! and the whole body of this magnificent being, vowed to holiness byhis parents, _had_ trembled as he stood close to her sweet-scentedperson; so close that it had seemed as though he stood knee deep in abed of clover at dawn.

  Yes! and he was alone with her, with the knowledge of his power uponher mind; yet he would not have touched one hair of her head, nor laida finger upon her against her will, even though she was absolutely athis mercy, and the inner room was misty with shadows.

  They are gentlemen of the finest type, these pure bred sons of India;not the ravening beasts of prey towards women described so minutely,and with such nauseating detail, in various religious and altruisticpamphlets; little literary atrocities written mostly by men and womenwho have gathered their experiences of the East from an exhibition ortwo at the White City or Earl's Court, and their data from their ownscurrilous minds.

  Bad types there are in every country! But for pity's sake let thesesocial reformers stick to the West, and start on those who make itunpleasant, if not unsafe, for an honest, well-groomed woman, withpretty feet and veiled face, to walk slowly by day, or by night,through the so-called decent streets of London town.

  Let them leave the fine, cultured men of India to their own gods andtheir own customs, remembering that their ways are not our ways; forwhich those of them who have tarried in our country, return thanks as,laying an offering of thanksgiving before their god, they lift thepurdah, behind which awaits the modest, gentle little maid; perfumedwith the scents of the East instead of the aroma of whisky or brandypegs allied to the tobacco of Turkey or Virginia; and unbesmirched bythe close embrace of the fox-trot which caused a certain Maharajah, ona visit to England, to remark to an Englishwoman:

  "Why! I thought----"

  Well, perhaps 'twere better that the damning commentary should be leftunwritten.

  It was late in the evening when Leonie questioned her servant.

  "Does the serang know exactly where I want to go? And how quickly canhe get there?"

  She was having dinner, and quite a good one, in the front part of theliving-room in Jessore's dak bungalow. This room can be divided intotwo by means of a curtain drawn across, and you can listen, in fact youare obliged to listen, if there is another party ensconced behind,either to the furtive love-whispers of those who should not be there,or the frank abuse of each other of the _bona fide_ couple sufferingfrom intense heat and long years of matrimony.

  Leonie spoke over her shoulder in the direction of the bedroom, wherethe bearer was arranging the mosquito net, her toilet things, and hernew-bought dainty night attire.

  It you are the right type or caste everything always goes smoothly foryou in India; if you are not it most emphatically does _not_; so shehad not given a thought to the extraordinary ease with which her wishesseemed to be carried out, in fact forestalled.

  "It is the same serang who took the mem-sahib when she went on the_shikar_ and killed the man-eating tiger. The two coolies to carry themem-sahib's luggage have been hired, and the boat will be mooredto-morrow night!"

  "To-morrow _night_," said Leonie, the light from the adjoining roomthrowing up her white face against the shadows of the quickly fallingnight. "But it took us _two_ nights to get there last time."

  "We are going a shorter way, mem-sahib. The launch will be moored in abig creek on the front of the island at which the mem-sahib landed lasttime. A small boat will take us through the very narrow creek, whichencircles the island, to the other side near which the temple stands.There will not be much walking for the mem-sahib, she can proceedimmediately to the temple in time to see the sunrise, or pass the nightin a _suapattah_---
-"

  "Oh! never _that_!" said Leonie most decidedly, thinking of her lastexperience.

  "But this hut is clean, mem-sahib!"

  Leonie turned right round in her chair.

  "How do you know that the last hut was not?"

  "All huts are dirty, mem-sahib."

  There was not a sign of confusion on the calm well-bred face, and hestood like a statue as Leonie, unconsciously striving for light in thedarkness, continued her questioning.

  "How did you know I wanted to go to the same place--to the temple, Imean?"

  "I did not know, the mem-sahib told the chauffeur!"

  At the last word Leonie lifted her head, and her eyes rested intentlyupon the handsome face in the doorway between the two rooms.

  "No! I did not!"

  "The great heat of the day doubtless caused the mem-sahib to forget theorder she gave to her servant."

  Never argue with a native of India, because educated or not he willinvariably, and with the utmost courtesy, make you feel at the end ofthe argument that, if not a born, you are at least an excellenttemporary liar.

  "Did your parents have you taught your remarkable English?"

  "The mem-sahib is too kind to inquire."

  In India you do not show curiosity about your servants' private affairsor their families, it is not expected, it is not understood; and at thesilence which followed the answer Leonie, feeling herself rebuked, rosefrom the table, and walked out on to the verandah to hide the colourwhich swept her face from chin to brow.

  In the middle of the night, when suddenly and unaccountably arousedfrom a restless doze, she spoke sharply as her eyes rested on a whitefigure prone upon the floor in the reflected light of the moon.

  "_Bearer_!"

  Her voice was indignant, and the man with one movement rose to his feetand salaamed.

  "What _do_ you mean by sleeping in my room?"

  Dear heaven, how he loved her as she sat like an image of wrath behindthe mosquito net with the sheet pulled up to her neck.

  "There are three doors to the mem-sahib's bedroom, and as the blindsfit badly, except for the presence of her servant, there is nothing toprevent a pariah dog, a jackal, or a thief from entering."

  "Please leave my room and sleep somewhere else. I do not like it, andI am quite safe."

  Leonie, feeling acutely the want of dignity in her bunched-up attitude,did not know what to say when the man refused suavely, but point-blank,to leave her.

  "I regret that I cannot obey, as the mem-sahib is in my care, and I amresponsible for her safety; but until the day breaks I will keep watchat the foot of the bed where the mem-sahib's eyes cannot rest upon herservant!"

  Oh! Leonie! Leonie! With that strange, angry, and unaccounted-formark still upon your shoulder, if only you knew what a fuss you weremaking over nothing.

  But she said thank you quite nicely when _chotar hazri_ was placedbeside her bed in the early morning, to the refreshing sound of waterbeing heaved into the tin bath in the dressing-room.