The Outcaste

by F. E. Penny

  CHAPTER XXVI

  Lunch was over; the car stood under the portico breathing gently like atamed and willing monster held in a metal leash. Alderbury, ready tostart, was inclined to yield to a new temptation and linger in hisleave-taking. Wenaston politely stayed to see his guest off under themistaken impression that it was a necessary courtesy. At the same timehis ear was open for the sound of the school bell.

  "I am sorry that you have not succeeded in the object of your visit,"he remarked, his conscience still troubling him in the matter of the'vert.

  Alderbury and Eola exchanged glances with an amused twinkle of the eye.If there had been failure on one point, on another the missionary hadachieved a marked success.

  "We must leave it alone for the present," he said with a seriousnessthat was not assumed. "When you are confronted with caste, you standbefore invincible plates of steel. To beat against them violently doesmore harm than good. We must wait for the doors to open of themselves.There can be no forcing them open."

  "I hope the poor fellow is safe."

  "And I hope and pray that he is standing firm in the new faith,"responded Alderbury quickly.

  "I used to think that Ananda was weak in character."

  "Possibly he was; but after all that he has gone through his charactermust have strengthened marvellously. I have known similar cases,although not among the higher castes. The fervent religious instinctof the Hindu sustains him in circumstances where a less religioustemperament would give way."

  "You believe that he is under his father's roof?"

  "From what I gathered yesterday afternoon in my inquiry of the town'speople, I feel sure that he has not been allowed to leave the place."

  "Is he safe?"

  The question was asked with an anxiety the Principal could not hide.

  "Ah! that I cannot undertake to say. All the same I have a strong hopethat beyond petty persecution he is, comparatively speaking, safe. Myhope originates with Bopaul. His manner gave me confidence. I met himin the town; he spoke openly of his friend's disappearance, and seemedin no way concerned about it. He laughed at the theory of suicide. Ifhe had any suspicion of a tragedy he would not show such indifference.I know for a fact that he is very much attached to Ananda."

  "They were together in England and they both felt Coomara's death. Iwas with them at the time, if you remember. The accident was a greatshock to us all, and my nerves are not what they used to be. Theperson least affected was Bopaul apparently," said Wenaston.

  "We don't know how it affected him; he has a peculiar nature, and hideshis real sentiments under a careless flippancy which his actionsfrequently belie."

  "He certainly is a strange mixture of incorruptible orthodoxy andmodern tolerance," assented Wenaston.

  Alderbury commented tersely and incisively on the new Hinduism of thePresidency towns, and compared it with the old-fashioned bigotry to befound up-country, where there was less European influence than in thegreat educational centres. Native states with their native officialswere even still further behind than British India, opposing religiousreform with strong prejudiced conservatism.

  "I suppose you welcome this new tolerance as a step in the rightdirection."

  "Not at all," exclaimed Alderbury, his fighting instinct roused. "Itis more difficult to attack than the old intolerance; it is elusive,shifty, the outcome of the Brahmanical facility of adaptation which isthe invariable resource of the Hindu philosopher in every religiousinnovation. I would rather come to blows with the fanatical oldBrahman than with one of these modern men whose policy is to agree withreservation."

  "So you turn to the untouchables."

  "Who form a sixth of India's population. They offer us a wide fieldfor our energies," replied Alderbury.

  "You are wise to give the caste people the go-by."

  The missionary was up in arms at once at the implication that he turnedhis back on any one.

  "Excuse me! We don't give them the go-by. We are ready watching forthe moment when the thin edge of the wedge may be inserted withoutbringing disaster upon them and ourselves. By the by, an odd thinghappened yesterday. Bopaul to my astonishment asked me if I wouldbefriend his sister, the widow of the man who was killed in the railwayaccident."

  "Coomara! I had forgotten that he married Bopaul's sister."

  "It was no more than a betrothal. Bopaul explained that his sister wasnot happy at home; and that it would be a relief to the whole family,in his opinion, if she were removed. Then he laughed as though theattitude of his relations amused him. He proposed that she should beplaced in our mission school."

  "Does the family consent?" asked Wenaston in some surprise; for no oneunderstood the prejudices of the high caste families of Chiraporebetter than himself.

  "Apparently his parents are too indifferent to the widow's fate to carewhether she throws herself down the well or disappears off the scenesin any other way. I told him to speak to his people about it; and ifthey consented I would willingly take her."

  The school bell rang and Wenaston rose from his chair.

  "I must be off. Good-bye, Alderbury," exclaimed Wenaston. "Come againas soon as you can; a warm welcome will be ready for you."

  The hand-clasp expressed even more than the tongue, as the two friendsparted with the knowledge that before long a closer and more intimatetie would be forged to bind them together.

  Five minutes later Alderbury stood on the steps of the verandah readyto enter the car. He turned to Eola once more.

  "I haven't said good-bye to Mrs. Hulver. Have you told her our news?"

  "Not yet; she has been too much occupied with her son to think ofanything else. She was to go off early this morning with youngWilliam; and she asked me not to expect her back till this evening. Imight have let her into the secret last night; but I heard after dinnerthat she had gone to bed."

  "I don't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. I am sure thatshe will forbid the banns," he replied in comical concern that did notdeceive Eola.

  "She will quote the wisdom of the three departed Williams in support ofher action," she added, and her laugh had a new ring of happiness in it.

  The car slid noiselessly down the drive and turned into the greatsouthern road. Alderbury leaned back on its cushions luxuriously, histhoughts busy with the woman he had just left. He had been liftedalong on the wings of destiny. He had come to Chirapore to hold out ahelping hand to a fellow creature in distress, and had found his ownhappiness as a reward.

  Having taken the step he was of too strong a character to entertain anydoubt as to its wisdom. However short she might fall of the idealmissionary's wife, she was his desire and he was hers. This newknowledge and certainty lifted him into a sphere of joy he had neverbefore touched.

  After a few minutes indulgence in purely selfish dreams, Eola with allshe meant for him was put resolutely aside. He took out the bundle ofletters that awaited him at the college house and proceeded to readthem afresh, making notes of the replies on the envelopes.

  The car moved along the smooth road at a moderate pace. Now and thenthe eyes of the occupant ranged over the undulating landscape, restingwith appreciation on the patches of green forest covering the crests ofthe hills, and the stretches of rice fields interspersed withplantations of areca-nut palms in the valleys.

  Few travellers were on the road. A string of country carts creptslowly towards the town, bearing the produce of the rich smiling landto market. The car shot by with a deep hum that set the wild-eyedbullocks snorting and backing under their yokes; and transformed thedrivers into kicking fiends. In vain they sought to inspire theterrified cattle with courage and confidence by a liberal applicationof the toe. It was not until the car disappeared in the distance, andits weird hum was lost to the ear that the bullocks were recalled toorder and a sense of duty, and the drivers were able to drop back intoidle clucking at their beasts.

  Six miles of quiet travelling came to an abrupt end. The nativechauff
eur pulled up at a signal from a traveller on the road, walkingin the same direction as the car was moving. Alderbury, who wasabsorbed in the composition of a letter to the head office of hissociety, looked up, and to his amazement recognised Bopaul.

  "I am going to ask you a great favour, sir," said the latter after theexchange of greetings. "I have my sister here. Will you be so good asto give her a seat in the car; and to take her to your mission-station?"

  Alderbury glanced beyond the speaker and caught sight of the shrinkingfigure of the widow. Her saree was drawn over her bald head to hidethe mark of shame and disgrace. Her eyes were cast down, and the handthat grasped the coarse cloth to keep it in position trembled.

  "Of course you take the responsibility upon yourself, Bopaul," saidAlderbury looking at the girl with pity born of an intimate knowledgeof what widowhood meant for one so young.

  "Certainly, sir," responded Bopaul quickly.

  "She will be at perfect liberty to return if the family desire it. Itdoes our work no good to have even the semblance of abduction."

  "You need have no fear of trouble, sir. My people will make noobjection whatever. If her husband were alive it would be quiteanother matter; but with a widow!" he smiled with gentle cynicism,"whoever heard of any regret being felt at the absence or even thedeath of a Hindu widow?"

  "Very well; I will take your word for it that all is well, and that Iam only carrying out the general wish of the family. Let her get inthe car at once, as I must be going on my way, or I shall be benighted."

  "She will sit by the chauffeur."

  "There is plenty of room inside," said Alderbury, pushing cushions andrug into some order.

  Bopaul went to the side of the road where his sister stood and said afew words in a low tone. She did not reply, but made a movement of thehead showing that she understood his directions. Then he took her bythe hand and led her to the car.

  "Get in, little sister. You will be quite safe with the missionary;and if you are not happy with him, ask him to write and tell me so. Iwill come myself and fetch you back, but I know you will not want tocome back; you will find your happiness there; not here."

  "It is understood by your family that she will probably become aChristian if she remains with us," said Alderbury who was a littlepuzzled by Bopaul's manner.

  "She is at liberty to do as she pleases. Of one thing I can assureyou; I can answer for her willingness to work at anything that willhelp to earn her keep."

  "And her name?"

  "I call her Mayita; but she will probably prefer to be called by someother name when she enters the mission," replied Bopaul with anothersmile.

  "She has no luggage of any kind, no bundle of clothes?"

  "Widows own nothing. They are deprived of every possession in theworld. Even their hair is taken from them," her brother answered.

  During this conversation Mayita sat silent with her head bent and thesaree veiling her face. Suddenly the cloth was pushed backwards andshe leaned towards Bopaul both hands extended.

  "Brother, may the gods reward you for your goodness to the poor widow!"

  "Good-bye little sister. Take heart and be brave. Now go, sir, andbelieve me that all will be well."

  The car glided forward and left Bopaul standing there. He watched ituntil nothing was visible but the cloud of soft dust that hung likesmoke in the warm air of the afternoon.

  Then he turned round and set off at a steady pace homewards. Again thecharacteristic smile appeared and he murmured to himself:

  "In the name of friendship; not in the name of religion!"