B. M. Croker

“ I would shriek, and scream, and have to be carried to the railway by force. I would make a scene at every station between this and Bombay; and if you did get me on board, I’d return in the pilot boat. No, no. Husband and wife should never be separated. Nothing but death should part them—nothing—but—death—shall—part—you and me,” she concluded with laboured distinctness.
“Belle, you are talking nonsense; talking like a fool.”
“Am I? but I am not such a fool as to go to the hills, or to hateful Ballingoole, and leave you here to flirt with Janie Wray.” ”

“ A terrible thought, a sickening dread, occurred to George; was there not a gleam of insanity in those fiery red eyes that encountered his, in the dim light of the waiting-room? He and her ayah applied ice and eau-de-cologne to her head, and kept her in a still, dark room in complete quiet, and this regimen wrought a speedy cure. By the following morning Belle declared herself ready to go on at once, to go anywhere, and they proceeded to Lucknow. ”

“ Redmond dozed in his chair—staring into the big red fire in the still, cool night—a stillness only [Pg 161] broken by the baying of pariah dogs in distant villages, the howl of the hungry, melancholy jackal, the shouts of the watchers in the fields scaring wild beasts from the crops of sugar-cane, bajra and jowar. But life was not always quiet and solitary. When the camp happened to be within a reasonable distance, many well-known faces from Mangobad surrounded the great, blazing logs, and many familiar voices broke the usual majestic silence. ”

“ As to George’s wife, to relinquish her society was no hardship.
Meanwhile Captain Holroyd was re-turning homewards with headlong speed; he had now no girl companion to guide and protect, and as for himself, he did not care. At first he determined to go to an hotel, or the club, for the remainder of the night, but on second thoughts, he changed his mind. He had never been one to send the family linen to the public wash. He would endure to the end—and this was almost the end. It required a man with a more hopeful buoyant nature than his to resist sinking under the weight of his surroundings. ”

“ He listened patiently to her chatter, and her views of life, mentally exclaiming “Good Lord! What a fool this woman is!” for the tone of her conversation jarred on him considerably; there was a great deal too much about Mrs. George Holroyd. Nevertheless he received a glowing description of his niece, in which description Belle painted herself as Betty’s adviser, sister, and benefactress, and then he put one or two somewhat sharp questions—questions are a natural weapon in malignant hands. ”

“ Fair, and say, “supposing a man proposes for one girl, and another comes out instead, believing that she is the right one—what would you do? Marry her?” But as he gazed at Captain La Touche, that sleek, prosperous, cynical bachelor, Lord President of the Mess (sometimes a heritage of woe) and bitter enemy of matrimony, his heart failed him. “Joe,” as he was called, would explode into one of his loud bursts of laughter, and declare that it was the best joke he had ever heard in the whole course of his life! ”

“ To have the dearest hopes of his life dispersed by one shattering blow was surely sufficiently hard for a man to bear, but to have another fate imperatively thrust on him within the same hour—a fate from which his highest and best feelings instinctively recoiled—a fate [Pg 15] that his heart most passionately repudiated—this was to drink the cup of bitterness to the dregs, twice!
And if he refused to accept Belle as his bride, what was his alternative? he asked himself, with fierce perplexity. ”

“ He was a married man, and in his heart, there was not one spark of love for the smart little lady, with the dog on her knee, who was his own, his wife, his other self [Pg 39] for evermore, who had a right to be beside him, and to share his lot, as long as they both should live. Esteem he might give her, respect and a certain kind of admiration, and possibly affection; but love—Never! Meanwhile it was his most urgent duty to disguise the truth, and sharp as Belle was, she never once guessed it. Who could be more attentive than George? ”

“ If you penetrated to the drawing-room, the chances are ten to one that you would find Belle cowering over the fire with a shawl on her shoulders and “Mossoo” in her lap, and two to one in a bad temper—both mistress and dog alike victims to ennui. “She was no one up here,” she grumbled to Betty every time she saw her. “She was a Collector’s niece, and asked out to big dinners every night, and taken to picnics up Diopatha and Iopatha, or down to Douglas Dale, but of course that was partly because Mr. Redmond entertained! She did not (and so much the better for Naini-Tal) . ”

“ No, no, Belle had, as she boasted, no sentiment about her; she did not care for past greatness,—the marble glories of Shahjehan, nor the red granite courts of Akbar. She much preferred the present age, a brisk drive back to the hotel, and a nice little hot supper; yes, she would rather have mulled claret and cutlets, than moonlight and marble! ”

“ Ah!” as a note was handed to her. “You have already begun to experience the real curse of India—chits, yes, ma’am—chits are the curse of India, and I will leave you to enjoy your epistle alone; it is sure to be asking for something; your company at a dull dinner; the loan of a pattern, or of a saddle; or a bottle of wine; or a dose of medicine!”
“Not at all,” rejoined Belle, casting her eyes over it. “It is from Mr. Lovelace, sending snipe, and asking me to play tennis. I am afraid you take a gloomy view of life, and people in general.” ”

“ The full details of the tragedy had a horrible fascination for Belle, and despite her husband’s continual interruptions and denials, she would hear all; and the guide, for once, had a listener entirely after his own heart; but the [Pg 47] Indian mid-day sun, and Indian atrocities were too much for this excitable traveller with a lurid imagination. A climax arrived, when she stood gazing at the angel over the well, that exquisite embodiment of sorrow and peace—which the guide glibly assured her was “the work of ‘Mackitty,’ the same man who had built the Taj, at Agra.” ”

“ Had I known, I would have got an exchange; got leave, got anything, that would have taken me out of the station, and out of your sight, and you actually offered me your hand—but some women are angels!”
[Pg 174]
“I am no angel,” returned Betty almost inaudibly, “far from it. Do not let us speak of the past, it is done with, it is dead. There is no reason why we should not be friends.”
“Then, Betty,” he exclaimed, looking at her keenly, “you know?”
Betty did not speak; she turned away her face, and gazed over the great far-stretching landscape, bathed in moonlight ”

“ Tears were very near the beautiful eyes, that looked with sad wistfulness into his.
“And when I hear of your marriage with some wealthy Civilian,” he sneered, “I suppose that is to be mine.”
“Oh! George,” she exclaimed, with two large tears now trickling down her face, “don’t talk in that way. It is not like you! You once told me that a man [Pg 179] could be whatever he willed—man is man and master of his fate—you are still the master of yours.”
“My fate was too strong for me! Mrs. Redmond herself, like one of those ancient witches, cut it across with a pair of shears. ”

“ Belle was alone. She was laid up with fever, and she wrote such a piteous scrawl, that Betty, in spite of her uncle’s angry expostulation, consented to go to her, and cheer her up and stay a week! She evolved some order in that cheerless home, tidied up the drawing-room, put away Belle’s old “chits” and papers, and scraps, [Pg 194] and “Mossoo’s” bones, coaxed some servants into the empty godowns, for there was not one on the premises, but a deaf old ayah and a waterman. Belle enjoyed the transformation and the company of a bright companion, and was better, and out, and gay. ”

“ The little dark, sallow woman, with the shining teeth and tropical eyes, who was the wife whom fate had sent him, and the pale, slight, graceful girl, who was his first love, his heart’s desire, the wife that he had lost! ”

“ Luckily for her own peace, the new queen gave herself no airs; she was as kind, as generous, and as sympathetic as ever, but [Pg 135] on one subject she refused, fiercely refused, to sympathise—George. She would never listen to a word against him. Once she turned a white resolute face on Belle, and said very sternly:
“You say that he is an excellent husband, nurses you when you are ill, gives you everything you ask for, presses you to buy new dresses, and to go to the hills, has never begun a quarrel, never gambles, drinks, or flirts; what do you want?” ”

“ But when a lady, be she ever so light, is always calling for them and harrying them, when she takes them long and steep paths to pay needless visits, and beats them with her parasol, why they figuratively snap their fingers at her and go!—and what is worse, they boycott her in the bazaars. Belle was in a bad plight; she could only join the giddy throng below at the Assembly Rooms, or round the lake, and polo ground, when she could obtain coolies at double fare! ”

“ Belle’s triumphs had not been much over-rated. She was quite the latest novelty, and the acknowledged beauty of the station. Young men were proud to be her partners in ball-room or tennis court. She was vivacious, amusing and accomplished; and her pretty dresses and [Pg 71] her pretty speeches disarmed her would-be rivals. She took the place by storm as on board the Nankin, and no entertainment was complete without Mrs. Holroyd! She acted, she sang at penny readings, she composed people’s fancy dresses, she played the harmonium in church, and was secretary to the tennis club. ”

“ What was the reason of such an extraordinary [Pg 4] freak? Why exchange a modern, well-built house, with a cheerful aspect, for a gloomy tumble-down mansion—certainly more imposing, and standing in quite a park-like enclosure, but which had been abandoned to rats and ghosts for years. No one knew the motive for this strange proceeding—not even Captain La Touche.
A few days before “this mysterious caprice of George Holroyd’s,” the long desired mail had been received—the mail which was to bring him Betty’s answer in her own handwriting, instead of that of the telegraph Baboo. ”

“ Sungoo dâk bungalow was not only famed for seclusion and sport—it was notoriously unhealthy; the rank vegetation and the vapours from the neighbouring reedy snipe jheels made it an undesirable residence. Hideous spiders with wormy legs, and semi-tame toads abounded in the three small rooms. Mushrooms grew out of the walls, a family of noisy civet cats lodged in the roof, hundreds of frogs held oratorios in a neighbouring pond, rendering sleep impossible—and altogether it was as damp and dreary a dwelling as anyone could wish to see ”