TO CLEAR THE WAY
The manners and customs of that little colony, or settlement, or camp,
or whatever it should be called--for I never found out the right name
for it--differed from ours very widely, some better no doubt, and some
worse perhaps. For instance, who could blame them for their rational
practice of leaving hard work to Occidental races? They did a stroke or
two when they could not help it, just to keep their bodies sound; but
the chief and commander, as we too expect, had to carry through with his
own hands the hardest part of everything. But another custom of theirs
appeared to be of more doubtful wisdom; for instead of having set hours
for meals and accomplishing them sociably, as well as with some
regularity and sense of responsibility, every man was allowed to eat
what he liked, when he liked, and where he liked. The natural result was
this--you could never be certain of finding a man with his mouth in
condition to answer you. How they got food enough to be at it so
perpetually, was for a long time a mystery to me, especially as they
dealt so little with any of the farms or shops around. Not a man of them
was ever seen in our village, and as for the very few women in the
camp--Baboushka, and Mrs. Stepan, and some who did the washing--not one
of them came out of her white cocoon, though brought up very largely as
Christians.
This statement is in its place, to show why the man, whom I revered, was
still in a position to command my reverence. If he had been subject to
feminine irruptions, to which even the greatest men are liable, all his
devotion to the highest enterprise might have failed to secure his
equanimity. But he had contracted upon reasonable terms with a vast
Universal Provider, and he only had to pay the weekly totals in advance,
and send to the place of delivery, once or twice a-week, according to
the temperature. Thus everybody found himself fed to the utmost of his
nature, and most of them preferred canned victuals; though something
more British had been required for our Police.
That evening, when I entered Sûr Imar's room, after leaving his daughter
among her birds, the first thing I did was to watch him very keenly for
any sign of anxiety or excitement, such as he might be expected to show
if he had been just visited by that abominable Prince Hafer. What right
had I to identify the man I had seen with the one of whom I had only
heard? And even if that conclusion should prove right, by what process
could I tell that there was nothing good about him? Yet in my mind there
was no shadow of a doubt about either of those points, and I looked at
Sûr Imar as if he must acquit himself of some contagion before I could
enjoy his society. But he met me quite as usual, without even
complaining of my unpunctuality; for he was a man of such dignity that
he suspected nobody of slighting him.
Whatever he might be doing, or of whatever he might be speaking, there
was such simplicity, and largeness, and straightforwardness pervading
it, that one seemed to fall into it and follow, instead of doubting, and
querying, and perpending. And his gentle and friendly and kind steady
gaze brought all that was good in one to meet him, and drove away the
dirty streaks of our nature, to hide themselves under their own mud.
"I have been considering, my dear young friend," he said, as he took and
held my hand, and I felt ashamed to leave it in so warm a place, after
all my cold suspicions, "about my behaviour to you the other day.
Nothing unkind was intended, but unkindness is often done without that.
You told me that you loved my dear, and now my only child. I should have
received that with more goodwill, whether it suited my own views or not.
For my manner then, I beg your pardon."
I answered that nothing in his manner then, or at any time since I had
known him, could be taken by any gentleman as uncourteous or
inconsiderate. I had told him what was the main object of my life, and I
felt that I was right in doing so; and although I could scarcely hope
for his approval, being a poor man and of no high rank, I had done what
seemed to me to be the proper thing, instead of coming as his guest upon
false pretences. I spoke plainly, and he answered nobly.
"Of rank I have not so much regard, as of the man who bears it. Neither
do I think that wealth confers any high condition on its owner. In too
many cases it lowers him. You will believe me when I say that neither of
those questions causes my regret at what you told me. I live for only
two things now--the happiness of my darling child, and the improvement
of the noble race to which I happen to belong. I have also bitter
wrongs, and the happiness of my life snatched from me. The love of
revenge is in Eastern blood, and a very hard force it is to overcome.
You of English race cannot enter into that, because it is not born in
you. But I know what the indignation is, when the sense of justice
rises."
His quiet eyes flashed as if his heart was roused by the words it had
given way to. And glad was I, not to be the man presented by it in the
portraiture of memory.
"Why do I admire the British race?" he continued, with his better tone
recovered; "not for their energy and manliness alone, not even for their
love of freedom, and great spirit of truth and justice, but most of all
because they alone of all the nations I have mingled with are born
without this cursed taint of savage and vile vindictiveness. If a man
wrongs you, you have it out with him. You thrash him, if nature has
enabled you. You vent your wrath upon him, and you go your way. The
world is large enough for both of you. If you hear of his misery, and
woe, and death, you only say, 'Poor fellow, there may have been more
good in him than I thought.' But with us of the Eastern and the Southern
blood, that blood is turned to poison by a deep and bitter wrong. By the
grace of God, and the grandeur of our Christ, I have struggled long
against this birth of Satan in me; but even now I have not overcome it,
utterly and for ever, as a larger mind would crush it. But what has this
to do with you? A great deal, if you have really set your heart upon my
daughter. Are you sure that you have done that with true English
strength and thoroughness? No passing whim, no delight of the eyes, as a
flower or a picture catches them; but a power that will last as long as
you do, and longer than the earthly part of you?"
No fellow likes to be cross-examined thus; and to tell the plain truth,
I had scarcely gone into myself in this awful manner. But I soon
perceived that he was speaking rather at the prompting of his own
remembrance, than of set form and purpose for probing me. So as the
picture arose before me of Dariel and her little bird, I spared no word
that I could think of; though none were half strong enough, none half
staunch enough; nothing that came to my lips had any right to go out as
if it spoke for me. Truly I had not been so touched by the piety,
mystery, exalted beauty, and lovely maidenhood of my love, as I was by
the sight of her tender self indulging her loving nature.
"I am satisfied about that, my friend," her father said, when I began to
be ashamed, as we ought to be, of all our higher feelings; "and I know
enough of you to be sure that you have a strong and steadfast mind. I
have not spoken of your friends, because you have never invited me to do
so. That obstacle, if there is one, is your consideration, more than
mine. But the obstacles on our part are of a very different nature. Of
English ladies I know not much, though I had the honour of being
introduced to some of what you call the high society, when I came first
to this island; and they seemed to me to be endowed with virtues well
adapted to their beauty. But they have to contend with this great
danger--they are allowed to choose their own partners in life, whenever
the money is abundant, before they have attained good intelligence. With
our daughters this is not the case. The parents make a wise selection
for them, sometimes even dispensing with much revenue, when there are
great qualities to compensate."
"We never go quite so far as that," I said, "unless the lady behaves in
such a way that it is impossible for us to help it."
"But I have been surprised to find," he continued, with a smile which
left me doubtful whether it were of paternal pride, or of that quiet
humour which he sometimes showed, "that my daughter seems to take most
kindly to the modes of thought and the greater independence which the
ladies of this country have permitted to themselves. It may be in the
air, or it may be in the nature; but I am often quite astonished at the
sayings and doings of my Dariel. She has been brought up by a lady who
is partly of English birth, and for a month or two with English
children; but still her unusual style of judging for herself is amazing
and terrifying to our elder women, who being of a different rank--and
that reminds me, if my daughter has a fault, and I suppose she must
have, it is, Mr. Cranleigh, the pride of birth. Not an ignoble fault,
but still a very serious one, especially as it can never be expelled.
"Through her mother she is of higher birth than I am, though not of more
ancient lineage perhaps, as I happen to be one of the Kheusurs. But all
these things you cannot understand, even if you wish to do so, without a
knowledge of my long sad tale, which I have not told as yet to any
person living. Even my daughter has not heard it, and I hope she never
may; for it would serve perhaps to do mischief to her young mind with
anxiety. The Lord governs all things on earth; all of our race begin to
feel that, when their little strength is stripped from them. But you are
too young to see things so; and never has the tale of one man's life had
any effect upon another's, unless it were to lead him into wild
adventures, easy to talk about, hard to go through. Be content without
them."
I looked at him with some hesitation. Would it be kind of me, even if I
had the right, to put him through all these griefs again, which had
changed him from a bold young Chief, primed with excitement, and peril,
and love, into a quiet exile, and a Christian moraliser, a founder of
type with hard blue hands, and oh, saddest fate of all, an experimental
Publisher? No, it would be a cruel thing, a selfish call upon sad
memory, a mere abuse of large goodwill, and a vile advantage taken of an
over-tender conscience. With these finer feelings, I almost said, "I
entreat you, sir, not to tell me;" when the Spirit that hates the human
race whispered to me that there has never been a man, and probably never
will be one, who cannot find pleasure in talking of himself, however
dark the subject. And why should I doubt that it would do him good, as
soon as he got into full swing?
"The last thing I could desire, Sûr Imar, would be to renew your
troubles." There was no humbug in these words of mine, as there was with
the pious Æneas; for as the Lesghian Chief sat down and leaned his head
upon his hands, he reminded me of my father's look, when his money came
to nothing; moreover, I saw in his face a large resemblance to his
daughter's in her sorrow over that pet bird. "It would be a terrible
trial to you. But until I know more, I am all in the dark. Perhaps you
will think it over, and whatever you do will be certain to be right."
For the more he reminded me of my sweet one, the less could I bear to
worry him.
"This is very good of you," he said most kindly, "and it doubles my duty
towards you. I am ashamed of this weak and foolish feeling. You have a
right to know all my history, and you shall, if you will come to-morrow.
It is too late now for me to begin to-night, and I have a little duty to
discharge. On a Saturday night we always thank the Lord for His care of
us throughout the week. You belong probably to the Church of England. We
of the Kheusur tribe have our very simple forms, handed down through
ages, from the same source as yours perhaps. We have our little service
at noon on Sundays. Would you like to be with us to-morrow?"
Nothing could have been more to my liking; and as it happened, there was
no fear of disturbing our home arrangements, for my father was laid up
with a slight attack of gout, and my mother in close attendance upon
him. So in a few words it was settled that after attending their
service, of whatever kind it might be, I should be allowed to hear the
history of the Lesghian Chief, which was much more than the first
promise I received. Knowing that now I should have full light thrown
upon all the strange things which had so long engaged my attention and
curiosity, and what was infinitely more than that, upon everything
connected with Dariel, I rode home that night in a glow of excitement,
tempered at intervals with nervous dread. For I might hear things that
would place a bar forever, or a gulf, betwixt me and my love.