by F. E. Penny
CHAPTER XIV
A surprise was in store for Mrs. Hulver the next morning in the shapeof a telegram from her son. He had arrived at Bangalore, and heproposed taking three days' leave to pay his mother a visit at once.Her head was fairly turned with delight, and she hurried off to tellthe good news to her young mistress. She thrust the telegram intoEola's hand.
"Read it, miss. You will have to go through it two or three timesbefore you can take it all in; at least, I had to do so; but then I'mflurried; and as William--that was my second--used to say: 'Flurrynever fires straight!'"
"Can we manage to put him up?" asked Eola, wondering whether she oughtto offer her pretty spare room to the young corporal.
"Quite easily, miss. A camp bed in my sitting-room will do nicely."
"Are you sure that you would not like the spare room for him----"
Mrs. Hulver interrupted her with a gesture of horror.
"A common soldier in the spare room, miss! and the room just done up,too! No, indeed! A missionary may use it if he is a friend of thehouse; but Dr. Wenaston should not stoop any lower. With the newcurtains and carpet the room is fit for the Governor himself. AsWilliam--that was my third--used to say: 'The finest trappings in theworld don't alter the breed of a horse.' My son may look very smart inhis corporal's uniform, but for all that he's only the son of a man inthe ranks."
Eola's delicate sense of hospitality was not satisfied. With the spareroom empty she felt that the door should not be shut against anEnglishman, whose character was perfectly respectable, but whose rankdiffered from her own.
"If it is inconvenient to you to have him in the sitting-room, I shouldbe very pleased to let him use the spare room," she said.
Mrs. Hulver drew herself up with pride. "I know my place, miss," shereplied, severely, as much as to say: "and you ought to know yours."She continued: "Even if I could bring myself to let him use the spareroom, I should know all the time that it would not be good for him. AsWilliam--that was my first--used to say: 'Pride is a plant that needsneither water nor manure; it will grow fast enough by itself.' My sonWilliam will make himself comfortable you may be sure; and his pridewill not be fostered by the camp bed, for it's a little ricketty, tosay nothing of being a bit hard. My sitting-room will be like a palaceto the boy after the barracks. I'm not sure that I ought to let himsleep there."
"Where else could you put him?" asked Eola in wonder, for she knew thelimitations of the house.
"In a corner of the back verandah," replied Mrs. Hulver promptly. "Itwould be very convenient to have him there."
"The night wind might give him fever."
"That's true, miss. As William--that was my third--used to say, when Irated him for leaning a little too far towards his failing:'Conveniences have their inconveniences and comforts their crosses.'Well, you mustn't keep me here gossiping or I shan't be ready for youngWilliam when he arrives. He's due at three o'clock this veryafternoon."
She bustled away, too full of William the second, junior, to note thesmile with which Eola received the intimation that it was she who wasdetaining Mrs. Hulver.
At twelve o'clock Wenaston came in. He was earlier than usual. As arule he did not appear till the lunch bell rang at one. Eola seated inthe verandah looked up as she heard his step.
"Well? What's the news? How are things going?" she asked.
"Badly! very badly! Only a quarter of the boys returned this morning.It will take a week or ten days to regain their confidence, and theloss of time will have an effect on my results. I would not havebelieved that so much feeling could have existed over the matter had Inot seen its consequences."
"Did you hear how he got home yesterday?"
"Not without accident. You know, perhaps, that he came here afterleaving college at Mrs. Hulver's invitation."
"She told me that he had lunched with her," Eola replied. "I was gladto think that the poor fellow had had a good midday dinner. She saidthat it was the first hot meal he had eaten since he left the boat atBombay."
"It wasn't to give him food that she asked him in. She heard throughthe servants that a party of the boys were lying in wait torough-handle him on his way home; and this was her way of preventingmischief."
"I wonder they dared to think of such a thing!" said Eola, with someindignation.
"They not only thought of it but they nearly succeeded in carrying outtheir design. Ananda left Mrs. Hulver's room in the afternoon, shehaving made sure that the boys were tired of waiting and had dispersed.At her advice he did not take the direct road home, but went round by apath not often used. Near his house he was obliged to walk along theroad and as bad luck would have it, he met two of my boys--men theymight more properly be called. They rushed at him with their sticks.He sprinted for home and escaped with a cut or two over the head."
"Of course he will prosecute the boys for assault," said Eola.
"He would do so if this were British territory; but being a nativestate, he, as a Christian, has no civil rights, no standing in a courtof law. He can gain no redress; he hasn't even the power to bind themover to keep the peace."
"Have you written to Mr. Alderbury?"
"I wrote yesterday morning, and I have just had his reply by wire. Hewants me to send Ananda to him at once. He has an opening for him andcan find him employment before long. Meanwhile he will be glad to havehim as his guest at the mission bungalow."
"You must see Ananda and tell him so; it will be a little consolationfor the poor fellow, perhaps."
"There's just my difficulty," replied Wenaston in perplexity. "Itisn't safe for him to show his face outside his father's premises."
"They are not ill-treating him inside the house, I hope," said Eola,with sudden anxiety.
"Nothing beyond humiliating him as much as possible by giving him theservices of a sweeper, and cutting off the supplies of food. If itgoes no further I don't think any bodily harm can happen to him as longas he stays at home."
"Mr. Alderbury must come and advise him."
"He says in his wire that he can't pay us another visit just yet. Wemust do our best without him. I ought to go to Ananda's house, Isuppose, since he can't come to me."
"It won't take you long; not more than five minutes to get to the houseif you go in the car."
"It isn't the time I am thinking of but the welfare of the college andmy covenant with the Maharajah. I undertook not to meddle in anyreligious matters."
Eola laid her hand on her brother's arm. "Leave it to me," she said,"I will undertake to let Ananda know. Keep clear of the affair and getyour pupils back as quickly as you can."
"You ought not to go to Pantulu's house," he rejoined quickly, as hiseyes rested on her in doubt. "I don't know what sort of a receptionyou will get. You must not run any risk of rousing unpleasantness thatI could not overlook."
"I promise you I will not run any risk nor get myself into trouble. Ican manage, I think, to have your message delivered without goingmyself to Ananda's house. Will you tell me exactly what it is?"
"I have no other instructions than what are contained in the telegram.I shall have a letter to-morrow giving me more particulars. MeanwhileAnanda should be privately warned that he must be ready to leave notlater than to-morrow evening by the night mail."
"Shall we lend him the car?"
"There again the difficulty occurs of assistance being rendered by meto an out-caste member of an important caste family, a member who isunder the ban of the family's displeasure. No; he had better go byrail. The native chauffeur would sell the secret for a couple ofrupees. I can't drive him myself; I haven't the time, and it would berisky."
"Mr. Alderbury will have to come and take Ananda away himself," saidEola, unconsciously ready to believe that a visit was necessary.
"If so he must not do it from this house," said Wenaston decisively."But before anything can be settled as to ways and means, we mustcommunicate with Ananda and find out what his wishes are."
"
The simplest way is to write a letter."
"But it would be difficult to deliver it. It would never reach hishand."
Wenaston lunched and returned to the college. The boys were assembledin the playing-field, and his spirits revived somewhat when he notedthat at the summons of the bell they entered the class rooms in greaternumbers than in the morning. He had an interview with theVice-principal before afternoon school began. At four o'clock he cameinto the verandah for tea.
"Have you done anything about communicating with Ananda?" he asked ofEola.
"Nothing beyond writing him a letter."
"Impossible to get it conveyed to him!" he exclaimed. "You mustn't goany further with the business. I have been talking to Rama Krishna, myVice, and he implores me to remain strictly neutral for the sake of theschool if for nothing else. He says that if I intend to help Ananda Imay be able to do so later; but that at present I must be rigidlyneutral."
"It seems rather hard not to lend a helping hand," said Eola, whosepity was roused. "I can't quite reconcile my conscience to a course oftotal inaction. Whatever the Vice may say--and he is a heathen--weought not to withhold any assistance that may be in our power to givehim."
"Rama Krishna assures me again and again that I can best help Ananda byremaining neutral. I shall only provoke the town as well as the familyto open hostilities."
"Does he show any animosity towards Ananda?"
"None whatever. His life at the English University taught himtolerance. He recommends me to get the boys back at all costs as soonas possible. A mission agent like Alderbury is the right person togive the help required, and it is unfortunate that he cannot come justnow. He argues that the missionary is paid to make converts and tohelp them; and the natives recognise the fact. Because he is paid toproselytise, they are ready to tolerate more from him than from anunpaid agent. It is equally well known that I am paid to teach and notto proselytise. This is a country that expects nothing more from a manthan what he is paid for. Anything done in excess of the purchasedduty must have, in public opinion, some hidden motive."
"Can't people understand that your motive in helping Ananda is areligious one?"
"No; and it seems impossible to convince them otherwise. Even theVice, though he knows me so well, had a suspicion that there was amercenary motive underlying my desire to assist Ananda. He suspectedthat I was working for a reward from Alderbury or for a bribe from thefamily. I think he inclined to the latter theory; but he was carefulto hide his suspicions as they were not complimentary to me."
"I hope you undeceived him."
"I pretended not to see which way his thoughts leaned. What have youdone with your letter?"
"I gave it to Mrs. Hulver. I explained the case to her, thinking shemight contrive to have it conveyed somehow to Ananda without discovery."
Wenaston rose at once. "It won't do," he said. "There must be nocommunication between this house and Ananda's. I'll see Mrs. Hulvermyself and tell her my wishes. She must understand definitely whatthey are."
He passed through the house towards the back verandah into which Mrs.Hulver's room opened.
"Poor Ananda!" thought Eola. "Will he have the courage to hold out? Iam afraid my courage would melt away before such a fire of persecutionas he seems to be meeting."
Wenaston presented himself at the door of Mrs. Hulver's sitting room.She met him with a broad smile of pleasure. Just behind her stood aman in uniform, the mother's smile reflected on his face.
"This is William, my son, sir. He has just arrived from Bangalore.He's the very image of his father. Stand forward and let Dr. Wenastonlook at you."
She pushed the shy awkward young soldier forward. He stood atattention as if confronting his colonel and lifted his hand in amilitary salute.
"Very glad to see you, Smith. So he is like his father is he?" he said.
"They are as like as two peas, sir, in every respect but one. My sontakes after his grandmother on my side in his complexion. He is darkerthan his father, who was very fair. But as William--that was myfirst--used to say if any one remarked on his being dark: 'Human bloodis all of one colour no matter what sort of a skin may cover it.'"
"I hope you had a good voyage out," said the Principal. "Sit down,Smith, I have come to speak to your mother. Mrs. Hulver, Miss Wenastonentrusted you with a letter to deliver to Mr. Ananda. Will you kindlygive it back to me."
Mrs. Hulver produced the letter and handed it to Wenaston, glancing athim with a natural curiosity which brought forth an explanation.
"You learned from Miss Wenaston what this letter contained?"
"Yes, sir; it was to show Mr. Ananda a way out of his troubles. He hasgot himself into rather a tight corner. As William--that was mysecond--used to say: 'Think twice before you tie a knot that you can'tundo.'"
"I want you to understand my position fully, Mrs. Hulver. I am notable, I am sorry to say, to give Mr. Ananda any protection from thetowns-people nor from his family. Assistance on my part would belooked upon as a breaking of my covenant with the Maharajah when hesanctioned my appointment to the college. I hope that you will becareful not to do anything which will compromise me in this matter."
"You may rely on me, sir, for not burning my own fingers nor settingyour house on fire by meddling with other people's candles. I am sorryfor the poor young man, but after all he has brought it on himself. AsWilliam--that was my third--used to say (he was the one who changed hisreligion to marry me): 'If you sow brambles you must expect to tread onthorns.' Mr. Ananda told me all about himself as he sat here waitingtill those young imps of budmashes had gone home. I heard in thebazaar this morning that he had been set upon near his own house; buthe managed to get in without being much hurt."
"Yes; that was so. You pick up all the news in the market."
"Yes, sir," replied Mrs. Hulver complacently. She prided herself onpossessing an accurate knowledge of the daily events of the town andRamachetty was well aware that one of the roads to her favour was byway of the gossip that was reliable. Woe betide the unfortunateservant, however, who carried false news!
"What do they say in the town about the school?" asked Wenaston.
"That the boys will all be back by the end of the week. Don't youworry, sir, over those little budmashes. The school is known to be thebest in the State under your superintendence. You have no need to runafter pupils. They will run after you if you bide your time. AsWilliam--that was my third--used to say when I went into the garden tocall him in to dinner: 'No occasion for the cook to hunt up the hungry;they won't fail to be where the food is when they're empty.'"
"Anyway I must be careful to see that nothing is done to give offenceto the parents of the boys," said Wenaston, anxious to press home hisorders.
"I understand, sir. We are to let Mr. Ananda alone. It shall be asyou wish, of course. I pity him, I'm sure; but all the same, I wouldrather not be mixed up with his change of religion. It's turning out abigger job than he thought. As William--that was my second--used tosay: 'When a man bites off a bigger bit than he can chew, he can't lookfor any assistance from other men's teeth.'"
The school bell rang and Wenaston, punctuality itself, turned away toobey its call. Mrs. Hulver hastened to add her last word which, asusual, was the reflected wisdom of one of the departed.
"As William--that was my third--used to say after I had scolded him forleaning a little too far over towards his weakness: 'A stormy morningbrings a clear evening, Maria, me dear, so perhaps your breath has notbeen wasted.' Everything will come right in the end if you give ittime." Then, as Wenaston hurried away, she turned to her son."William, you sit in the back verandah whilst I change my dress. We'lltake a walk in the town and look at the boutiques in the bazaar."
Twenty minutes later Mrs. Hulver issued from her bedroom a verydifferent figure from the white clothed housekeeper, who with cook andbutler behind her, went marketing in the morning. Even William,junior, who had just come from London, was impr
essed by the glossypurple silk that "stood by itself," the white lace scarf and floralbonnet; to say nothing of the odds and ends of glittering jewellerythat adorned her ample bust.
Mother and son, in purple silk and scarlet uniform, presented a patchof colour on the green landscape that was arresting to the mostcareless eye. The sensation created in the town was considerable. Itwas a kind of triumphal progress. Being fluent in the native languageshe explained who the stranger was, introducing him to the merchantssitting behind their stalls and to the few Eurasians who lived inChirapore.
Bopaul, sauntering along the street, was attracted by the sight of aBritish soldier, and stopped to inquire his name. Mrs. Hulver hastenedto explain with maternal pride and returned the compliment by askingabout the identity of the questioner. The sun touched the horizonbefore she thought of home.
"Time to be going back, William. As your father used to say: 'Keeptime as if it was your best friend, and take care you don't kill it orwaste it or lose it."