by Maud Diver
CHAPTER II.
"And, at each turn, it seemed as though Fate some huge net round both did throw To stay their feet, and dim their sight." --W. Morris.
Three weeks later, on a diamond-bright morning of early May, EldredLenox was in the saddle, riding at a foot's pace along a strip of apath that links the Strawberry Bank Hotel with Dalhousie's centralhill. Brutus trotted soberly to heel, while Shaitan--a black Galloway,half Biluch, half Arab--tossed an impatient head, sneezed several timesin succession, and generally declared his intention of taking mattersinto his own hands, so soon as he should reach the broader expanse ofTerah Mall. But Lenox, impelled by an inbred desire to climb, wasminded to push on to the higher, emptier levels of Bakrota--the greathill that towered, formidable, directly ahead of him. For thechalet-like dwellings of Dalhousie are scattered sparsely over threehills, Bakrota, Terah, Potrain; and the summit of the last and lowestis crowned by Strawberry Bank Hotel, mainly the resort of captains andsubalterns from the four plains stations of the district, doing theirtwo months of signalling, Garrison Class, or of unadulterated loafing,as the case may be.
Lenox himself came under none of these headings. The man had a trickof refusing to be classed collectively, soldier though he was; a trickof isolation, inbred, unconscious, the outcome, perhaps, of muchsolitary wandering, of intimate association with the uttermost hills.It was as if they had imparted to him something of their ownruggedness, their aloofness, their stoical power of endurance.
A cheery little breeze stirred the branches of horse-chestnuts andrhododendrons, tossed the silver-backed foliage of the ilex, and setthe cedar boughs swaying with slow, dignified indolence. Hidden withintheir depths of shadow, birds and monkeys twittered and chattered; andat intervals there came to Lenox the peculiar long-drawn note withwhich the hill villagers call to one another across the valleys. Aninfectious spirit of jubilation pervaded the air. The sun himself, inthese cheerful latitudes, is transformed from an instrument of tortureto the golden-locked hero of Norse and Greek legend; and with everystep of the ascent Lenox felt the blood course more swiftly through hisveins.
Ilex and rhododendrons, clustering close to the road's edge, shut offthe vast prospect on his left; till, at an abrupt turn of the road,they gave place to a watercourse, descending in a cataract of bouldersto the valley below. Then the glorious company of the mountains sprangsuddenly into view, lifting scarred heads to heaven, and greeting thenew day with a Te Deum audible to the spirit, if not to the ear itself.To the spirit of Eldred Lenox these outward symbols of the eternalverities, fit emblems of the stern faith in which he had been reared,spoke with no uncertain voice; and their message was a message ofaspiration, of conquest, of the iron self-mastery and self-restraintindispensable to both. They reminded him, also, that life held manygood gifts in atonement for the one gift denied; that a man might doworse than live and work unhindered by the volcanic forces of passion.
The past five years had, after all, been years of fruitful service tothe great country he loved; the three letters after his name assuredhim of that. And there remained much more to be done in the samedirection; work that would make unstinted demands upon his energy andfortitude; work that must, in due time, force him to forget.
Arrived on the Mall, with its far-reaching view of valley and hill, andits outcrop of glittering granite, a word of encouragement set Shaitaninto a smart canter that brought them speedily to the half-way corner,whence a densely shadowed road climbs upward to the great forest ofKalatope. The glimpse of sun-splashed path and red pine-stems drewLenox aside from the open Mall; and horse and rider passed into thestretch of scented coolness at a brisk trot. The path, little morethan six feet wide, was innocent of railing. But much riding in theHimalayas hardens the nerves to these tight-rope performances, whichare part and parcel of life in the hills.
For a while they went steadily forward, well content; till, on roundinga sharp corner, Shaitan stopped dead, his forefeet firmly planted onthe roadway, his sensitive ears thrust forward; and Lenox, who hadfallen into an absorbing train of thought, found himself confronted bya sufficiently startling reality.
The path ahead of him was blocked by the unwieldy forms of fivebuffaloes, in charge of a naked brown wisp of humanity four feet high,armed with a no more formidable weapon than a pine branch stripped ofits needles. But the crux of the situation lay in the fact that,between the fourth and fifth buffaloes an Englishwoman, in a brownhabit, mounted on a restive chestnut pony, was in imminent danger ofslipping off the road to certain death among the rocks and bouldersbelow. For the chestnut had succeeded in wrenching his hindquartersoutward, his heels were already over the edge, and his rider, leaningwell forward, was applying whip and spur with a coolness and vigourthat could not fail to excite the man's admiration.
It was a matter of seconds: Lenox could not stop to calculate possiblerisks. Buffaloes and herd-boy scattered right and left before hisfurious onset. A swinging blow from his hunting-crop sent two of thebulky beasts scrambling up the inner slope, while Brutus, who found thesituation all that heart of dog could desire, sent a third crashingover the khud to the accompaniment of shrill lamentations from theterrified child in charge.
The whole thing passed in a flash; the pony, by a frantic but futileeffort to right himself, had just sent a shower of loose stonesrattling from under his hind feet, when Lenox, dismounting, gripped thecheek-strap with one hand, the other being occupied with his own reins.
A vigorous forward pull landed the chestnut, panting and quivering,with all four feet on terra firma. But the rider's right arm hadfallen limply to her side, and Lenox, looking up, for the first time,into a face deeply shadowed by a wide-brimmed helmet, recognised . . .his wife.
Her breath was still coming In small, quick gasps; but there was noshadow of fear in her eyes; no lightest tremor about her close-set lips.
"Great God! _You_!" he ejaculated under his breath, and involuntarilytook a backward step away from her.
At the shock of their encountering glances her cheeks flamed, and shelowered her lids.
"I suppose I may say thank you for that," she said, and her voice shookever so little. "A minute later, I should have gone over."
He nodded, keeping his teeth close, his eyes down; and a deadweight ofsilence fell between them.
Small sounds became suddenly self-assertive. The rustle of squirrelsalong the pine-stems, the monotonous music of the cuckoo, varied by acharge of toy pistol-shots when an inexperienced monkey alighted on adead twig. Brutus, standing squarely between them, eyed each in turnwith critical speculation, his ugly head cocked very much to one side.He instinctively mistrusted all wearers of petticoats, and had foundthe buffalo incident very much more to his taste.
At length, in desperation, Quita made a movement as if to pass on. ButLenox laid a peremptory hand upon her bridle.
"Tell me, how do you come to be _here_ of all impossible places onearth?"
His voice was harder than he knew, and a slight shadow passed acrossher face.
"Is it really necessary to explain?" she asked, coldly.
He relinquished her bridle at that.
"As you please, of course. Only--it is a little awkward our being heretogether; and it might be as well to come to some sort of understandingbefore we separate. Are you up here for the season?"
"Yes, we have been up all the winter, Michael and I, except for twomonths at Lahore. When the snow melted we moved to the highest cottageon Bakrota. It is beautiful up there. We came out here eighteenmonths ago," she went on a trifle hurriedly, grateful, now that the icewas broken, for the relief of commonplace speech. "I had heard a gooddeal about India, you know. I wanted to see it for myself, and ifpossible put a little of it on canvas."
"And you are not disappointed?"
"No, indeed. It is wonderful beyond words."
They had themselves well in hand now. Each had given the other a falseimpression at the start, and when two people are living atcross-purposes
it is easier to move mountains than to remove that mostintangible of all barriers, a false impression.
"And are you--up for the season?" Quita added, after a pause, with anatural touch of hesitancy.
"No. Two months' leave. I am free, therefore, to go elsewhere, if mypresence here is in the least degree . . . annoying to you."
"Oh, but that would be a pity. You must have had a special reason forchoosing Dalhousie."
"Some friends of mine were coming up, and asked me to come too. Butthey will quite understand if I say I should prefer to go shootingbeyond Chumba."
"Don't say it, though, please. I would really rather you did not putyourself out in the smallest degree on _my_ account. Besides," sheadded, achieving a rather uncertain smile, "we need not meet often, andno one--except Michael--will have any notion of . . . the truth."
"Of course not," he agreed, with glacial dignity. "I was forgettingthat you had--discarded my name."
Again the blood flew to her cheeks.
"It seemed the simplest way to avoid possible complications, orunnecessary lies."
"And you flung away--my ring also?"
The question came out in spite of himself, for he had noted herungloved left hand.
"No. Only I could not very well wear it--under the circumstances."
He stood aside now to let her pass. He himself then mounted, andfollowed her along the narrow path, raging against the irony ofcircumstance, as a man bites upon a sore tooth.
On reaching the spaciousness of Bakrota Mall, he had no choice but toride abreast of his companion. He did so without remark, and sinceQuita lacked courage to spur her pony to a canter, they continued toride thus for a time; each, under an admirable mask of composure,painfully aware of the other's presence.
Speech seemed only likely to widen the gulf between them, and at alltimes Lenox had a large capacity for silence.
Not so Quita. The last ten minutes had been overcrowded withconflicting emotions; her husband's mute proximity got upon her nerves,and a setting of pine and mountain put a finishing touch to an alreadyintolerable situation. She turned upon him at length, with a smallgesture of defiance,--a well-remembered tilt of her chin that piercedhim like a sword-thrust.
"Don't feel bound to escort me, please. I am constantly out alone.You may have a long way to go; and we need hardly play at politeconventionalities--you and I."
He glanced at her keenly for a second.
"Thanks; I am in no hurry. But--if you would prefer it?"
"I think it would be less--uncomfortable for us both," she made answerdesperately.
"In that case, of course . . ." He gathered up his reins, and liftedhis hat, "At least I am glad to have been of some small service toyou," he added, quietly. And before her brain or lips could formulatean answer, he had cantered off and vanished round a shoulder of thehill.
