The Spring of the Tiger

by Victoria Holt

  "I gather you have a reputation for gallantry of the nonendur-ing kind."

  "You have been learning a great deal and not only about tea."

  The waltz had come to an end and we went to our chairs.

  I danced a spirited polka with Sir William, and Reggie Glen-denning was my partner in the lancers. Clinton's partner was an outstandingly beautiful woman, dark-haired, wearing a brilliant scarlet sari edged with a gold-thread Greek-key pattern. Her sleek black hair was worn high and it was clearly abundant In it gleamed a ruby ornament. She looked difiEerent from the other Singhalese I had met and I imagined that, as in the case of Cly-tie, there was European blood there. It set her apart—as it set Cly-tie apart. This woman was tall—though not as tall as I. She was exceptionally graceful but there was something about her, some quality which was immediately discernible. She was the most striking-looking woman in the room.

  She seemed to know Clinton well and I realized that she was one of the few people who had not been presented to me.

  I sought the first opportunity to ask Clytie who she was.

  "That's Anula, Nankeen's daughter."

  "Oh," I cried. "The famous Anula! Oh yes, she is indeed unusual. You didn't tell me you were inviting her."

  "Well, I didn't. . .actually. ..."

  "Do you mean she came uninvited!"

  Clytie looked uneasy. "Well, you see, she has been to affairs like this before. She has been brought by someone and. . ."

  "Clytie," I said, "what are you talking about?"

  "Anula is different from the rest of her family. They work for us. Anula never worked for anyone. She has her own house on the edge of the plantation. She has her own carriage. . . ."

  "She is rich tiien?"

  "Oh er . . . yes. She came into money. She's a lady of leisure. . . ."

  "And she doesn't have to be invited. She just comes. . . ."

  It was all rather strange. I couldn't question Clytie now. I would ask her to tell me more tomorrow.

  The heat of the ballroom and the exertion of the dance had disturbed my hair and I knew it would be behaving in its usual perverse manner, so I decided to slip upstairs to Clytie's bedroom, which was being used as a cloakroom, and there set it to rights.

  I went quietly up the stairs to the room and made for the mirror. Yes, it certainly needed attention. I took out the pins and let it fall about my shoulders. It was in such a state that the only thing to do was start from the beginning.

  I was so engrossed in my task that I did not hear the door open suddenly and I looked up and, with a start, realized I was not alone. My heart started to beat ridiculously fast when I saw in the mirror the scarlet-clad woman standing behind me.

  It was Anula.

  I swung round—my hair half-up, half-down, which made me feel at a disadvantage beside this svelte and graceful creature.

  "I didn't hear you come in," I said.

  "Did you not?" Her voice was low and musical. It suited her.

  "I came to fix my hair," I said as though I had to make some excuse for being there.

  "It is dancing . . . and the heat. You are not accustomed to such heat, I know."

  "I suppose I shall get used to it."

  I went on doing my hair while she watched me silently.

  "I have been so interested to meet you," she said.

  "I suppose a newcomer to the community is always of interest."

  "And Clinton Shaw's wife ... of course. May I help? There is one piece here which is not secure. In the polka it would escape, I am sure."

  She had taken my hair in her hands and deftly arranged it. I was aware of her strange exotic perfume. "Therel I think that will stay."

  "Thank you. It hardly ever does stay where I want it to."

  "It is fine hair," she said, "and abundant."

  I stood up. She disconcerted me in a strange way. I felt her soft dark eyes were hiding something, that she was trying to probe my mind, to find answers to certain questions.

  "! have a little gift for you," she said. "I hope you will not take it amiss."

  "A gift? Why that is very kind."

  "My sister showed me the blue silk of your dress. She cut off a piece for me. So I had something to work with. Ladies here need a fan often. So I have brought you one to match your dress. Please take."

  "Thank you ver}' much. May I look?"

  "Please, I want to know if you like it."

  It was wrapped in tissue paper and when I unwrapped it I saw the most beautiful fan made of peacock feathers. That deep blue was my favorite color.

  "It's lovely," I cried. "These colors are so beautiful."

  She bowed her head. "I am so happy that it gives you pleasure."

  "I shall not use it tonight because of the dancing," I said. "I will wrap it up and take it home with me. Thank you so much."

  "I wanted to give it to you because you are here with us now and because you are Clinton Shaw's wife."

  "It is most kind of you."

  We did not return to the ballroom together. I left her in the bedroom and went downstairs because I could hear the strains of the waltz cotillion and I had a partner waiting for me.

  It must have been half an hour later when, after dancing with me. Sir William Carstairs suggested taking a turn in the garden.

  "It's rather pleasant," he said. "It's so hot in this room."

  We went out and sat on a bamboo seat among the bushes of rhododendrons, which seemed so much taller than any I had seen in England. Sir William told me a little about his work and how he had practiced as a barrister in England before he came out to Ceylon. He was a bird watcher and had seized the opportunity of studying the birds of Ceylon. He told me about the owls and one species in particular which had a cry so uncanny that the natives called it the devil bird.

  "Kingfishers and sunbirds, golden orioles and parakeets, they're

  numerous here in Ceylon," he was saying, 'liut we're particularly rich in wading birds. You must watch for the egrets, spoonbills, storks and herons."

  I assured him that I would, and then I became aware of whispering voices. There must be another seat dose by, I gathered, though hidden by the rhododendron bushes.

  Someone said rather shrilly and audibly: "She should never have come tonight. Do you think Clytie Blandford asked her? Of course she never would!" It was Mrs. Glendenning who spoke, I realized.

  Her companion murmured something and the shrill voice continued: "Oh yes, I've no doubt she came without an invitation. After all, he forced her to be accepted, and I suppose she feels that even now he's brought his wife here she still has some standing."

  "You'll see the flamingos on the wet sands," Sir William was saying more loudly now, and I believed that he was so engrossed in his birds that he had not heard those scraps of conversation.

  "I never did approve of the way he flaunted his mistresses," went on Mrs. Glendenning. "But this one was the chief of all. . . the maitresse en litre as the French used to call it. But we are not French, my dear Emma. Of course Clinton Shaw, having so much power in this place, seems to think he can behave as he likes. Well, now he has brought home a wife we shall expect a return to respectabihty."

  "Inland," Sir William was saying, "youTl find teal and ducks."

  I did not want to stay anymore. I stood up and as I caught Sir William's eyes I then believed that he had heard that conversation too and, kind man that he was, had been pretending that he hadn't

  Then it occurred to me that everyone here was watching Anula, who had been his mistress. She had a house on the plantation, money of her own. Given by Clinton, of course. And when I had been brought here to be introduced as his wife she was here too. He could have stopped her coming but he had not. Instead he had danced with her, welcomed her most Ukely.

  What a fool I had been to think that my marriage was going to work.

  We went back to the ballroom. I danced mechanically. I saw Clinton and he was dancing with Anula. I felt sick with rage and misery.

&nb
sp; Clytie whispered: "Are you all right?"

  I said: "Why is that woman here?"

  It was significant that she knew who I meant. "I didn't ask her," she said. "She came."

  "So you receive people you don't invite."

  "It seemed the best way."

  It was after midnight when we left. How different I felt sitting in the Victoria with Clinton, from the way I had when we came.

  "You're tired," he said with that tenderness in his voice which no longer moved me to anything but a raging hatred.

  I must preserve my anger for when we were alone. Then I would let it burst forth and I would assure him that I was not prepared to be humiliated.

  Four people were to stay the night at the house because it was too far for them to go back to their homes. They would leave first thing in the morning. So when we arrived I was occupied in showing them their rooms and it was some time before I was alone with Clinton.

  I looked at him steadily and said: "I want the truth."

  "What's come over you?" he asked.

  "That woman, Anula, what is she to you?"

  "A very great friend."

  "You mean . . . your mistress?"

  "A very special one."

  "She has the glorious title of maitresse en titre. That's how I heard her described tonight.'*

  "Did you now? That sounds very grand. I am sure she would like that."

  "I did not like it."

  "My dear, why should you deprive Anula of a little glory?"

  "You call it glory."

  "You called it that."

  "I want to know everything."

  "A glutton for knowledge, that's you. If it's not tea, it is precious stones and now my premarital engagements. You are wast-

  ing your energies there, my darling. What's done, is done. Anula was my mistress for several years. It was quite a reasonable relationship. She was accepted. There was a time when I thought of marrying her. But I don't greatly care for mixed marriages. There are the children to consider. I knew it must be an EngHsh wife for me."

  "With a plantation. I suppose Anula, with all perfections, could not provide that!"

  "You are right. She could not. That is where you scored."

  "I hate you," I said vehemently. "You are so . . . coldly calculating."

  "One should be calm when calculating if one is going to reach the right solution."

  "You madden me."

  "I know. I like you maddened."

  "I do not like you in any way."

  "Dear Sarah, don't be jealous. Anula is a handsome creature, I know, but. . ."

  "You may go to her whenever you wish and I shall return to England."

  "What! To Aunt Martha. She is not such a paragon of virtue I'll be bound. I might even be the better choice."

  I suddenly wanted to give way to despair. I had been quite happy when we had left for the ball, touched by his gift of the sapphires. But what I had discovered tonight was humiliating beyond endurance. I kept thinking of all the gossip there must be in a community like this. People would be watching me, watching Clinton and Anula. I thought of her coming quietly into the bedroom like a panther and there she had stood watching me.

  I pulled off the sapphire-decorated ribbon and threw it onto the dressing table. "You might like to give it to Anula," I said.

  "It wouldn't suit her. Rubies are her stones . . . rubies and emeralds."

  "Perhaps one of the lesser minions?"

  He laughed and caught me in his arms. "Dearest Sarah," he said, "there is no need for this jealousy. You are here and you are the one. You are my wife. While you delight me why should I want anyone else?"

  "That's a sort of ultimatum, is it?"

  "That's an idea. A task for you. Make sure you enchant me so much that I cannot look at other women."

  "Please take your hands from me."

  His response was to hold me tighter. I tried to push him off unsuccessfully. That pleased him. He enjoyed showing his superior strength.

  "Listen," I cried. "I will not endure other people's pity."

  "Pity! They are all envious of you. Didn't you realize that?"

  "I was not referring to the discarded mistresses. I overheard a conversation in the gardens. Mrs. Glendenning . . ."

  "That woman. She's more poisonous than a cobra! I assure you there is no one in her orbit who is not accused of something."

  "Still, I do not like it."

  "You should not have strayed into the garden. Haven't I told you to beware of snakes?" He took my face in his hands and said seriously: "My dear, dear Sarah. I have known many women. What do you expect? Anula suited me well. She is a strange, mysterious creature. I was often in her house . . ."

  "The house you gave her. . ."

  "A house I gave her."

  "And the jewels she was wearing?"

  "And the jewels she was wearing. You know how generous I am.

  I said: "Now listen to me. I will not stay here if you expect me to accept your infidelities. It is not that I care . . . personally . . ."

  "Don't you, Sarah? I think that is rather immoral of you."

  "Will you be serious? I will not be pitied. I will not be humiliated, and if I discover that you expect me to share you with other women, I shall leave."

  "I could not bear to think of your going back to those wicked aunts."

  "I could go to my plantation. Has that occuned to you?"

  "I should come and bring you back wherever you went. You married me, my darling, for better for worse, remember."

  "There must not be too much worse."

  He held me tightly and I was aware of the passion flaring up be-

  tween us. He changed his mood suddenly. He was no longer flippant.

  He said: "Dearest Sarah, I love you . . . you only. Keep it like that. It can be the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to either of us."

  In such moments of physical accord he could make me beHeve that

  Our guests left early next morning and when they had gone I went over to Ashington's to see Clytie. She was waiting for me and was eager to discuss the ball.

  "I think it went off successfully," she said. "People who stayed the night have already left. They always go early—almost at dawn. I expect yours did too. They were dehghted to meet you. You'll be seeing a good deal more of some of them, I expect. You look thoughtful, Sarah."

  When we were settled do''m drinking lemonade from tall green glasses, she looked at me anxiously and asked if I had really enjoyed it.

  "Deal Clytie," I said, "you went to such trouble on my behalf. No one could have been a better hostess or taken such trouble to launch me into societ}." I looked at her anxious face and suddenly decided to tell her the reason for my misgi'ings.

  "I overheard a conversation in the garden about Clinton and tha.t woman Anula."

  "Oh dear." She looked concerned. "How I wish she had not come. In the old days she was not invited, but she came when she wanted to. Clinton used to bring her with him sometimes and no one dared refuse her admittance for fear of offending him . . . and perhaps her."

  "It was Mrs. Glendenning I heard talking."

  "She's a spiteful woman with a malicious tongue."

  "The>' were talking about being so shocked because Anula was present and I guessed immediately what her relationship with him had been. I tackled him with it last night"

  "Oh Sarah!"

  "Don't look so alarmed. CHnton and I understand each other. I

  made it clear that I would not tolerate his continued relationship with her."

  ''I am sure he would not dream of continuing it now."

  Dear Clytie! Her relationship with Seth was a more conventional one, I realized.

  She went on: "It was unfortunate that you should have overheard that woman."

  "I had a meeting with Anula in your bedroom. She brought a gift for me. I left it here last night. I forgot about it when we left. She came into the room while I was doing my hair. She seemed very friendly."r />
  Clytie frowned.

  "Are you worried?" I asked.

  Clytie hesitated. "Anula is a woman of strong passions. She and Clinton used to quarrel violently. She was fiercely jealous. She tried to kill him once. She stabbed him with a knife. He had a wound in his arm. It was hushed up, but I never forgot it. You know, Sheba is her aunt. Sheba told me that Anula is one of the queens of Ceylon reborn. There was a Queen Anula. I read about it. She was the first queen Ceylon ever had. She was insatiable for men and poisoned five of her lovers. She was burned alive by her stepson, whom she was planning to poison that she might make her own son heir to the throne."

  "Do they really believe all this?"

  "Yes they do. Sheba says Anula used her special powers to enslave Clinton. Sheba was one who did not think Clinton would come back with a wife."

  "I seem to have fallen into a net of intrigue."

  "It's all a lot of nonsense. Anula is just a woman who likes to get her own way and has succeeded quite well so far."

  I stood up. "I'll show you the gift she brought me. It's very beautiful and she evidently went to some trouble to match my dress."

  We went to the bedroom and there, lying on a table, was my fan wrapped in tissue paper.

  I unwrapped it and opened it, spreading the beautiful peacock feathers.

  Clyde took one look at it and put her hand to her mouth as she caught her breath.

  "She gave you thatr

  "Yes. Isn't it lovely?"

  "Sarah, you mustn't keep it. You mustn't have it in the house. We never use them here. Peacock feathers bring bad luck."

  I stared at her. "You really believe. . ."

  "They make those fans occasionally for visitors. No one here will carry them. It is unlucky. I knovi' it. Peacock feathers mean death."

  Clytie had snatched the fan from me. She started to run dovm-stairs with it

  In the garden she applied a match to the feathers. I stood watching them curl into flame.

  "Oh Clytie," I said, "they were so beautiful. ..."

  "She was ill-wishing you," said Clytie quietly. "Sarah, you will have to be very careful."

  Tike ISs'imsoiM

  At the end of the following week Clinton announced that he had to go to Colombo for several meetings with the shipping agents; after that he had to travel south to Galle and then north to the pearl fisheries. He would be away for about two weeks and as he did not want me to be in the house with only the servants, he suggested that I go to stay with my sister.