by Maud Diver
CHAPTER X.
"Woman, I grope to find you; but I cannot, O, is there no way to you, and no path,-- No winding path!" --S. Phillips.
And the good folk of Chumba,--men, women, and children,--were earlyastir on this June day, in whose fiery lap lay hid the luck of theState for the coming year.
The stone streets of the little town, so steep as to be cut out, hereand there, into a rough semblance of steps, were alive with quicklymoving figures, in holiday attire: which, in the East, is a trueoutward and visible sign of its wearer's inward and spiritual sense offestivity.
Open shop fronts and quaintly carven balconies were noisy with shrillvoices. Every self-respecting house was plastered with fresh mud;every window and doorway garlanded with marigold and jasmine buds;every brain, absorbed in the paramount speculation, as to how thesacrificial buffalo would behave.
At three o'clock, under a blazing sun, the Rajah set out, enthroned onhis State elephant, whose silver howdah and gala trappings formed afitting pedestal for the red and gold magnificence of the young princehimself. Two ropes of pearls hung down to his waist: a huge uncutemerald made a vivid incident of green upon his gilded chest: and thediamond aigrette, surmounting his turban of palest green muslin,flashed and quivered in the sunshine, like living fire. The Resident,in immaculate grey suit and tall white helmet, sat beside him in theawkwardly swaying howdah with an admirable air of comfort andunconcern; and their triumphal progress was enlivened by the brazencheerfulness of trumpets and trombones, the melancholy squeal ofbagpipes, and the ear-piercing shriek of native instruments; while,through all, and above all, and under all, the throbbing of innumerabletom-toms suggested the heart-beats of the mighty crowd made audible.
Journeying thus, along the unshadowed road that overhangs the river,they came at length to the promontory itself. Here, beneath the hugeState _shamianah_, gaily coloured Kashmir rugs were spread, for GovindSingh and his court: while curtained enclosures, set at duly decorousdistance, concealed the women-folk, who had been conveyed thither underclose cover much earlier in the day.
Through the surging chattering crowd,--which fell back right and leftbefore their quietly determined advance,--the Residency party madetheir way in to the partial shade of the _shamianah_, wherein chairshad been set for the English guests; four on either side of the Palacegroup.
It was a very dignified Elsie who slid to the ground before Mauricecould get to her, and carefully avoided his reproachful gaze. But hefollowed her into the tent, and took his seat beside her unrebuked.The trifling incident of the night before had increased not merely hercharm but her value in his eyes. If this were not the 'real thing,' hereflected, in a virtuous glow of self-approval, then surely there couldbe no reality on earth.
At this moment he became aware that Garth and Mrs Desmond wereestablished in the two neighbouring chairs. His surprise at thisunexpected conjunction showed so plainly in his face that Honor,meeting his glance, responded with dimplings of sheer enjoyment beforedevoting herself to the entertainment of her victim.
Desmond, in pursuance of a policy which at least saved Lenox from thesharpest sting of all, had managed to ride close behind Quita andGarth; and being nimbler in dismounting than the older man, hadsuccessfully usurped his privilege of lifting her from the saddle. Sheherself, though not a little puzzled as to the meaning of it all, wasbeginning to relish the humour of the game; and as Desmond escorted herinto the tent, she turned upon him a smile of unabashed amusement.
"This is flattering! I appear to have made a conquest of _Monsieur leCapitaine_!"
"And for once appearances are not deceitful," he capped her straight.
"How enchantingly direct you are! But at this rate Mrs Desmond really_will_ disapprove. . ."
"No fear! Mrs Desmond is enjoying it quite as much as I am!"
She divined a hidden meaning in his words: but merely lifted hereyebrows and shoulders in characteristic fashion.
"Well--it she doesn't object, I am sure I don't!"
"Nor I, by any means. . . . Come this way."
He led her across the tent, having noted and admired his wife's skilfulbit of strategy: and Lenox instinctively took the same direction.
Quita chose the chair farthest from the Palace group; and in a fewmoments, she knew that her husband was standing close behind her. Itwas the first time he had deliberately approached her since theirencounter at the ball: and the silent tribute, so characteristic of theman, elated her with a renewed sense of power over a personalityimmeasurably stronger than her own. It was like bringing down big gameafter the mild diversion of shooting pheasants. But he had spent thewhole morning in the verandah with Honor Desmond; and the remembrancestill rankled. Upset her equanimity as he might, the spirit ofsurrender was still far from her.
At his approach Desmond made a slight movement, as if to rise; but theother shook his head. It was enough to be thus close to her, to feelthat speech was possible, yet not compulsory. All of which Desmond wasquick to understand.
"Look, . . look . . ." Quita whispered suddenly, leaning towards him."They are forcing that poor brute to the edge. He has been in before.Colonel Mayhew told me. He knows; . . . he is afraid. Oh, _mon Dieu_,how horrible! . . . He is over!"
A mighty shout from the assembled thousands, who stood ten and twentydeep along the banks, confirmed her words. The shuddering victim hadbeen forced over the ten-foot drop; and for a few breathless moments,was lost in the green swirling water. A second shout,--unanimous, asfrom one Gargantuan throat,--heralded the reappearance of the flatblack head, with its dilated nostrils held well above the blindingwreaths of foam. Tossed mercilessly from boulder to boulder, the stoutswimmer neared the first big rapid; and a moment later was swept, anunresisting log, into its treacherous clutches. Out of it he plunged,still swimming valiantly; and, despite the opposing force of thecurrent, made a bold dash for one of the few possible landings on thetown bank. But the people, foreseeing the attempt from longexperience, were gathered at this particular danger-point inoverwhelming numbers; with the result that the unhappy beast was fairlyhustled back into the boiling stream.
Here the second rapid claimed him; and excitement became intense; forthe fate of a year hung trembling in the balance. There was noshouting now; but a breathless expectant silence. Only theriver,--full of sound and fury,--babbled unceasingly to the majesticsky.
The moment of uncertainty was short as it was tense. Once more thebrave black head appeared, a blot on the foam-flecked surface, nolonger battling, with dilated nostrils, against fearful odds; but lyingsideways, inert . . . lifeless; . . . and a prolonged outburst ofshouting, clapping, and huzzaing informed the echoing hills that thegreat spirit of rivers and streams had accepted the sacrifice; that theluck of the State was established for twelve good months to come.
"Poor beast, poor plucky beast!" Quita murmured rebelliously. Hersympathies had been strangely stirred; and an unbidden moisture cloudedher eyes. In that hapless drowned buffalo she beheld, not a mere deadanimal, but one victim the more to the eternal law of sacrifice;--thelaw that makes one man's suffering the price of another man'sgain;--the law that lies at the root of half the tragedy of the world."How happy they all are!" she went on. "That Rajah boy is delighted.They have no imaginations these people. So much the better for them!"
By now the _shamianah_ hummed with talk and laughter and congratulationon the outcome of the _Mela_. Every one had risen; and Desmond turnedwith the rest to add his quota to the polite speeches that were theorder of the moment.
But Quita, still intent upon the stirring scene without, moved forwarda little space to obtain a better view of the river and the crowd.Lenox followed her; and with a start she became aware that he wasstanding almost at her elbow; though still a little behind her, so thatshe must turn if she wanted to see his face.
"Are you wishing you could put some of that on canvas?" he asked in avoice that he vainly strove to render natural.
"Yes. It would b
e such a triumphant riot of colour. But I'm afraid itwould look crude and impossible in any frame except the frame of anIndian sky."
She did not turn in speaking; but the softness of her voice soothed hischafed spirit like a benediction, and robbed him for the moment of allpower to reply.
"I was really trying to stamp it all on my memory," she went on after apause. "It is a sight one doesn't see twice in a lifetime. Just for afew seconds it was terrible. But I would not have missed it for theworld."
"Nor I. Now that I am here, I feel grateful to the Desmonds forpersuading me to come."
"Did they have to drag you here by main force?"
"Not quite! I thought I had better stay and grind at my book; that wasall. But they wouldn't hear of it."
"Do you always obey their orders implicitly?" There was veiled scornin her tone, and a new warmth in his as he replied:
"I would do any mortal thing they asked me to, within reason. In allmy life no two people have been so good to me."
"You evidently admire _her_ very much." The stress on the pronoun wastoo delicate to catch his notice.
"I do, immensely. How could any man in his senses do otherwise? Or,for that matter, any woman either? I hoped--I thought--you would havebeen good friends with her."
He spoke his honest enthusiasm in the simple desire that she shouldshare it. But her nerves were still strung to concert pitch, and hehad struck the wrong note.
"You thought her many virtues might have an improving effect on me, Isuppose?"
The acorn was no longer veiled: and he winced under it.
"No: only is occurred to me that the two . . . . best women I have everknown might reasonably have a good deal in common."
"It is kind of you to couple me with her. I am flattered, I assureyou!--But, personally, I prefer something lees exalted, something morehuman, more fallible. . . ."
"Perhaps that explains your predilection for Garth?" he broke inabruptly, pricked to resentment by her persistent note of mockery.
"I am not aware that my friendship with Major Garth requires any sortof explanation."
She was rigid now--face, voice, figure: his golden opportunity gonepast recall. Men pay as dearly for sins of ignorance as for the baserkinds of trespass: and the man who does not understand women is almostworse, in their esteem, that the man who treats them ill.
"Is it wise--for your own sake . . . to be so careless of your goodname?" he persisted desperately; goaded by the knowledge that he wouldnot soon get speech of her again.
"Possibly not. But I don't feel called upon to retire into a convent,or to advertise the fact that I am not . . . 'on the market.' Nor do Ichoose to have my conduct called in question by any man living."
She faced him now;--defiant, a bright spot on either cheek.
And before he knew how to answer her, Colonel Mayhew was upon them,overflowing with cheerful raillery, and radiantly unaware that he hadstepped into a powder magazine.
Long before the returning procession reached the Residency, Quita hadrepented of her little-minded display of irritation, consoling herselfwith the resolve that she would atone for it next time; whereas Lenoxhad decided that for once Honor Desmond's intuition was at fault: thatit needed no 'bogey of heredity' to widen the impassable gulf dividinghim from his wife.
