The Spring of the Tiger

by Victoria Holt

  Her voice was eminently audible and as she bore down on us in what seemed like triumph, her bright blue eyes were fixed on me. "And this must be . . ."

  "My sister, Mrs. Shaw," said Clytie. "Sarah, this is Mrs. Glen-denning, whose husband is in charge of the railway at Kandy."

  "We are all so longing to meet you." The eyes were frankly curious. "I am so glad to be the first. . . am I the first?"

  "Yes. We have done no entertaining since my sister arrived," said Clytie. "She is really settling in. At the ball, of course . . ."

  "Ah, the ball! We are so looking forward to it. How do you like Ceylon, Mrs. Shaw?"

  "I am finding it all very exciting, but as my sister says I have so recently come and it is all so different from home."

  "Home!" sighed Mrs. Glendenning. "How one yearns for home! We go every five years but it is not enough. Mr. Glendenning is so absorbed with the railway. As chief resident and locomotive engineer he has to be here one day, in Colombo the next and then somewhere else. Mishaps are as plentiful here as . . . tea!"

  "He must have a very important position," I said.

  "My dear Mrs. Shaw, I would be happier if it were less important. You yourself must know what it is to have a busy husband. How is Mr. Shaw?"

  "He is very well, thank you."

  "We were all certain he would come back with a wife. It was so sad about your father. However, we must not brood, must we? And it all worked out as we expected. They were gambling on it at the club."

  "Gambling on it?" I asked.

  "On you and Clinton. Give them a chance and they'll gamble on anything. It was, after all, the right conclusion. Your poor father! He had so much trouble all his life. He will be happy now, looking down and seeing everything so conveniently solved. CHn-ton will have changed, I daresay . . . settled down. . . ."

  She was a most uncomfortable woman, and all the time she was

  watching me, I imagined she was trying to assess my relationship with Chnton. I was glad when she went on her way.

  "The trouble with these people," said Clytie, "is that they get so interested in other people's aflEairs. Life runs to a pattern in the European circle. They entertain, go to the club, talk constantly of England and occasionally go there. So when someone new arrives . . ."

  "And if it's someone like Chnton Shaw's wife ..." I interrupted.

  "Well," she admitted, "Clinton has always been one to get himself talked about. He was after all a bachelor for so long and there were mothers with daughters on their hands. They had made up their minds that he would never marry . . . until they heard that your father was going to England and Clinton was with him."

  "I see."

  "You're disturbed. You mustn't be. Just remember that people in communities like this gossip a great deal."

  "Was there much gossip . . . about Clinton?"

  "Well, you know how it is."

  "I can guess."

  "That's over now," said Clytie comfortably and I did not ask her what was over. I felt it was too humiliating to discuss my husband in this way.

  We came back in the late afternoon past green paddy fields which seemed to rise out of the thickly wooded hills, past elephants bathing in the river and working on the banks carrying their great loads, past water buffaloes and bullocks plodding ponderously along pulling carts behind them.

  We were met at the station by the brougham.

  "You'll be pleased with Leila's efforts," Clytie told me. "She is a natural dressmaker and would do very well in Paris or London, I am sure."

  She certainly worked wonders with my Bokhara silk. I was fascinated by her deft fingers as she pinned the fabric on me and regarded her handiwork with admiration shining in her great dark eyes.

  "You will be beautiful," she said.

  "You are trying to make me so," I answered.

  "I make gowns for my sister Anula," she told me in a tone of reverence, as though Anula were the queen.

  I was becoming rather curious about Anula. "Your sister is very beautiful, I suppose," I said.

  "She is most beautiful woman in Ceylon. Everyone thinks so."

  "Then she must be very beautiful indeed."

  "Ah, missee, she has more than beauty. You understand?"

  "No," I answered.

  Leila came closer and looked over her shoulder. Then she turned to me and whispered: "She has powers."

  "What are they?"

  "Anula was once great queen."

  "Long ago?"

  "Hundreds of years. She has been bom again. One day she will be great queen again. She can tell what will come. She know much about us all."

  "That might be rather uncomfortable for us," I said lightly.

  I could see that Leila was overwhelmed and considerably in awe of her sister and that she fully believed in those powers she spoke of. I was interested to hear more of this unusual woman but I realized that I should get little sense out of Leila so I tackled Clytie on the subject.

  "They're an unusual family," Clytie told me. "Anula is undoubtedly the beauty and the leading light. Nankeen married a Portuguese girl of good family and there are three children. Anula, the eldest, is certainly amazingly good-looking; Leila, you know. Ashraf is the youngest. He works for us on the plantation. He will be like his father, handsome, shrewd and clever at his job. A certain legend has grown up around Anula. She believes she was a queen of Ceylon in another incarnation. She certainly has a presence and a look of royalty, no doubt cultivated by her beliefs, but it is definitely there."

  "Is she married?"

  "N . . .no. She probably feels no one is good enough for her. Or she has yet to meet him. . . ."

  "She would want a prince to fit in with past royalty, I suppose."

  "Oh, these things are very real out here. It is a general beUef

  with many that they have lived before and will do so again. Anula has, as they say, powers. She charms snakes and gets them to do her bidding—so they say—and she is supposed to cure people of their ailments and some ... so Fve heard . . . declare that she doesn't always cure if she wishes it to go the other way. . . . Oh, but this is just foolish gossip." "I'm interested. Tell me more about this amazing Anula," Clytie shrugged her shoulders. "I know little more than I've told you." She looked uneasy. Then she said brightly: "I'm glad you bought the Bokhara. It really will be most becoming."

  I guessed that for some reason she found the subject of Anula somewhat embarrassing.

  The day was fixed for the ball.

  I had not gone over to Ashington's that morning. Clytie would be busy and she had refused all my offers of help. I was excited at the prospect of meeting people for I was assured that they were all impatient to meet me. Some would be staying the night at Ash-ington's and some with us. It would be just for one night. Others would ride through the early morning to their various homes.

  There was a festive air throughout the house. The servants had lost their silent ways and giggled together. I caught them watching me with curious eyes because, I supposed, all the fuss was in my honor.

  Clinton would not drive us over. One of the servants was to take us in the Victoria and he and I would sit under the hood with the driver up in front.

  I felt a rising excitement when I put on my dress. It was beautiful, falling off the shoulders in many tucks and cascades of lace and ribbons. I had a small waist, for which I was grateful. It meant that I was able to avoid the tight lacing that would have been insupportable in this climate. My bodice clung tightly to my figure and from my waist my skirt flowed in flounces. I must say it was a triumph.

  My unmanageable hair was a problem, so I decided that I would wear it high in the front, pinned very securely to prevent its straying. At least it was thick, but as it was also straight, this indeed was largely responsible for its unmanageability.

  The deep blue of the Bokhara silk reflected in my eyes, giving them a touch of blueness, and I felt it had been a happy choice.

  "'WTiy," said Chnton, when he saw me, "you rea
lly are a beauty."

  "I'm glad you have come to that conclusion."

  "I merely share your opinion. Isn't it nice to agree for once? Look at yourself. You can't hide your gratification."

  "Leila is a good dressmaker."

  "A clever family. Mind you. Your neck's a little bare."

  I looked at my neck and as I did so he came swiftly behind me. He was holding something in his hands. I gave a gasp as I felt my throat encircled. He was fixing about my neck a band of velvet the same color as my dress.

  "\'hat are you doing?" I cried.

  "How nen'ous you are. Did you think I was going to strangle you! I am not tired of my dear wife yet."

  I was staring at my reflection. The ribbon was in place and the front of it ghttered brilliantly.

  "What is it?" I asked.

  "Sapphires. Do you like them?"

  "They are beautiful but. . ."

  "It's time I gave you a present, don't you think? And what more appropriate!"

  "You are giving me these sapphires!"

  "WTiy so surprised? I knew about the dress. I got it out of Leila. I have seen women in these jeweled neckbands and I thought: Just the thing! I'll put a halter about my darHng's neck and that'll show the whole world that she is mine."

  "I don't like the sound of a halter. As though I'm a horse. . . ."

  I went close to the mirror. There were three sapphires—a large one in the center and two slightly smaller ones on either side.

  "They're rather fine," he said. "You'll learn something about the stones we find here, I am sure. You'll soon be as knowledgeable about them—including pearls, of course—as you are becoming about tea."

  "Thank you," I said. "It was good of you."

  "No more than your due, you know. I want to show you how pleased I am that you are here."

  I was rather moved because he had taken the trouble to give me something that was so fitting. The neckband set with those superb sapphires had changed my appearance. It had added a touch of elegance which I had lacked before.

  He caught my hands and kissed them. I withdrew with some embarrassment. A show of tenderness on his part always bewildered me.

  "l like them very much," I said. "I can see they add something to my ensemble."

  "Let's go. All the men will be envious of me tonight and I shall revel in that, as you know."

  I went out into the hot night v'dth a feeling of happiness. Was our relationship going to change? It had begun from mercenary motives on his part, but was he really growing fond of me?

  We sat close under the hood of the Victoria, and as I listened to the clip clop of horses' hoofs on the road, I lightly touched the sapphires at my throat and I said to myself: We might make it work after all.

  Clytie was receiving the guests. The folding door had been flung open and there was a sizable ballroom decorated with colored flowers from the garden. Candles flickered in sconces and in the dim light the dresses of the women were softly beautiful. Clytie herself looked like a fairy princess. She was dressed in a sari of pale green—beautiful soft chiffon, and beneath it a glow of silver. Her silky hair was piled high on her head and there was an emerald ornament in it.

  My eyes went at once to the pearls. They were magnificent; those two layers of lustrous beauty lying on her olive skin showed to perfection. They glowed and when she turned I caught the flash of green which was the serpent's eye at the back of her shapely neck.

  "Clytie," I whispered, "you're wearing them!"

  "As I told you, on such occasions it's expected," she answered. "Come and stand beside me. Ever''one wants to meet you. How lovely you look. Those sapphires . . ."

  "Clinton just gave them to me."

  "They're perfect."

  I stood beside her and one by one the people came up to me.

  Clytie introduced me as gracefully as she did everything, telling me who they were and what they were doing in Ceylon. There were a few rubber planters and coconut dealers but the majority were those who worked in the civil service and administration of the island. Some had been in the country for many years; others were new arrivals. Many of them lived in Kandy but some had come from as far as Colombo. This was mainly the English community, who, far from home, clung together. There was Sir William Carstairs, who was the judicial commissioner, and one or two others from his department. I noticed the woman I had met in Kandy when Clytie and I had taken tea there, Mrs. Glendenning. She greeted me vociferously and told me how enchanted everyone was to welcome me to Ceylon. I must visit the club in Kandy and indeed become a member.

  Her sharp eyes were all over me and came to rest on the sapphires. "What heavenly stones 1" she cried. "A gift from the fond husband, I'd stake my life."

  "You should not stake your Hfe so rashly, Mrs. Glendenning," I said.

  "Don't tell me they are not! But who else would dare? Let me tell you, my dear Mrs. Shaw, your husband is a man to reckon with." She came closer. "There is no one here who would care to offend him. I wouldn't like to be the one who did that. It would have to be a bold man. . . . These men. One law for them, eh, and another for us. That's what they would like. Oh, and your sister is wearing the famous pearls. My husband is most interested in them."

  Clytie overheard that and I saw her touch the pearls nervously.

  "Reggie is going to ask you to let him take a close look at them, Mrs. Blandford," went on Mrs. Glendenning. "We have all heard so much about them."

  "There is always a great deal of talk when I wear them," answered Clytie.

  "Such a priceless heirloom," went on Mrs. Glendenning. "They must be worth all the rest of the jewels in this room put together."

  Clytie had turned away. She had hated the reference to the pearls and I was beginning to dislike Mrs. Glendenning. I caught

  the judicial commissioner's eyes and smiled. He came over to me and I took a step forward, shutting out Mrs. Glendenning.

  He was a charming man; he had come out twenty years ago he told me and the island was home to him now. He visited the old country every five years or so. His family looked forward to it and so did he.

  "You see some Singhalese here tonight," he said, '1)ut most of us are English. Many of these Singhalese work in the government offices. Some come from ancient Kandyan families."

  "The women look so beautiful in their saris," I said. "Fm hoping to meet everyone tonight. My sister arranged this gathering for that purpose."

  "I am sure ever''one will want to meet you. Oh, here is Reggie Glendenning. He's chief resident and locomotive engineer and responsible for the railway. The line which runs between Colombo and Kandy is of the utmost importance to us."

  I was introduced to Reggie. A meek little man, I thought him, but he would need to be with such a wife.

  He told me at great length about his duties, which I found incredibly boring and only half listened to, but when he spoke of the pearls I became more alert.

  He had always been fascinated by the Ashington Pearls, he told me. He remembered once calling at Ashington's and my father's taking them out of their crocodile case to show them to him.

  "I had never seen pearls like them," he said. "Such luster. I doubt whether there are a better set in the whole of the world. They were a gift of one of the kings of Kandy to his bride, I heard. They had the reputation of being unlucky because she died in childbirth. Then they came into the hands of the Ashingtons and became known as the Ashington Pearls. I'm going to ask Mrs. Blandford to allow me to have another good look at them. I've always been interested in pearls. I should have liked to own a pearl fishery, but engineers don't become pearl fishers, do they?"

  I thought: Not if they have overpowering wives who want them to be railway engineers.

  "However, I shall ask Mrs. Blandford to let me come over and see them in daylight."

  "I am sure she will be delighted to show them to you."

  "'She's a beautiful woman," he said, and I could agree with that.

  Clytie came and rescued me. "We shall b
e dancing soon and you will be expected to dance with everyone, Sarah," she said.

  When the dancing began Clinton was beside me. "We shall dance the first dance together," he said.

  "You'll find me inexpert," I told him. 'There was no dancing at the Grange. Celia Hansen taught me a little, though, when she was with us. The two of us used to dance round the schoolroom.'*

  "We shall have to help each other. I fancy I myself have about as much grace as an elephant."

  He put his arm around me and attempted to waltz. I was pleased because I had a certain sense of rhythm, which he certainly did not.

  "You're happy tonight," he said. "Perhaps you like a grand occasion."

  "Do you?"

  "I prefer to be with you alone." I laughed and he went on: "Some take their pleasures oddly. You are enjoying ambling around this floor with your poor feet being maltreated by. . ."

  "An elephant," I said.

  He held me tightly, "All these things come to an end. The time will come when you and I will be riding side by side in the Victoria, riding through the scented night to our home . . ."

  "I can see that such occasions bring out the sentimentalist in you."

  "It's always there, you know, slumbering beneath that granite-like exterior, waiting to be given the kiss of life . . . Uke the sleeping beauty and her prince."

  "I woidd hardly have thought you fitted the role of sleeping beauty."

  "I'm in the wrong story evidently. This is more like Beauty and the Beast."

  I was laughing aloud. "We began with the Babes in the Wood."

  "Ah, yes, wandering lost in the forest."

  "We could have strayed into Hansel and Gretel. They found the gingerbread house, you remember, and a terrible fate awaited them. You'd have to change roles there and be the witch, I sup-

  pose. You were the one who did the luring and for a mercenary purpose. Oh, this is too ridiculous."

  "We are, as they say, 'the cynosure of every eye.' Do you know they are asking each other: 'Would you have believed that Clinton Shaw could be so enamored of one woman and that woman his wifel'"