THE FINGER OF FATE!
"Gigantic shapes and shadows gleam,
Portentous through the night."
_Longfellow._
FROM this time forward, Mr. Lisle occasionally accompanied his
companion to Ross, and listened to the band, and was even to be met
with at tennis parties, in brave defiance of Mrs. Creery's frowns
and Miss Caggett's snubs. Helen noticed that he was tabooed, and
lost no opportunity of speaking to him or smiling on him—but such
opportunities were rare. Mr. Quentin had a way, acquired by long
practice,—of elbowing away all intruders from the vicinity of those
whom he delighted to honour; and effectually introduced his own
large person between Helen and any other swains that might seek her
society;—in short, he monopolized her completely. Mr. Lisle had
entirely abandoned photography, shooting, and sailing, for the very
poor exchange of the _rôle_ of a dispassionate spectator. Why did he
come to Ross to see what he did not like? his friend's handsome face
bent over the beautiful Miss Denis, eliciting her smiles and merry
laughter. Naturally, like most lookers-on, he saw a good deal—the
envious outer circle of young men, and Miss Caggett, who had long ago
made a truce with Helen, but who loved her as little as of yore, and
was about as fond of her as any lady could be who beheld her rival
appropriating her own special property! Still, she figuratively folded
her enemy to her bosom, and smothered her feelings wonderfully,—but
Mr. Lisle fathomed them. Perhaps he had a fellow-feeling for her, who
knows? It appeared to him, that the citadel of Miss Denis's heart
was carried at last; and who could wonder, that an inexperienced
school-girl would long hold out against the artillery of Mr. Quentin's
attractions; attractions that had proved irresistible to so many
of her sex! No, he noticed that she coloured, and looked conscious
whenever he appeared, and was not that a sure symptom that the outer
fosse was taken? Little did he imagine, that the unfortunate young
lady felt exactly as if she were helplessly entangled in the web of a
huge spider, that she would have given worlds to rid herself from this
ever-hovering, ever-overshadowing presence,—that so effectually kept
any one she wished to speak to aloof and out of reach. Her natural good
nature, and politeness, prevented her from actually dismissing him, and
she had not the wit, or the experience to get rid of him otherwise.
She had indeed ventured on one or two timid hints, but with regard to
anything touching another person's wishes, Mr. Jim had no very keen
perceptions; and with respect to his own company being anything but
ever welcome, he would not have believed Miss Denis, even if she had
told him so in the plainest terms! Why should _she_ be different to the
rest of her sex? they all liked him! So Mr. Quentin kept his station by
her side, by his own wish, and by public concurrence. He immediately
joined her whenever she appeared, carried her bat, her shawl, or her
band programme, held her tea-cup, walked home with her, and visited
her three or four times a week. It was too tiresome, that he should
be her invariable companion, and vainly had she endeavoured to break
her chains, but he was older, and more experienced, than she was,—and
thoroughly understood the art of making _her_ conspicuous, and himself
immovable! Little did Mr. Lisle guess that Miss Denis would have much
preferred him as a companion. Alas! the world is full of contrariness.
Mr. Quentin appreciated Helen because she was difficult to fascinate,
Helen appreciated Mr. Lisle because he held himself aloof, and never
gave any one the chance of acquiring that familiarity, which notably
breeds contempt! and Mr. Lisle was greatly surprised to find, that he
was exceedingly envious of his friend, that he admired Helen Denis more
than any girl he had ever seen! But he admired, and stood afar off; no
thought of disloyalty to James Quentin. No _arrière pensée_ of that
motto, "All's fair in love and war," ever entered his mind, he was only
sorry, as he said to himself, that he was too late!
* * * * *
The Settlement band played twice a week in the little public gardens
on Ross, and their strains were an irresistible summons to all the
(free) inhabitants. One special afternoon, we notice Mrs. Home holding
animated converse with Mr. Latimer, in his cool, black alpaca coat;
we see Mrs. Creery enthroned on a sofa (which she always provided)
alone, clad in a gorgeous combination of colours, that could only have
been achieved by a daring soul! We observe Helen and Miss Caggett in
company—the latter had apologized for her outbreak. "It would not
_do_," she said to herself, "to be on bad terms with the Denis girl,
she was too popular, all the men would be on her side, Captain Rodney,
Mr. Green, and that ugly Irishman, Dr. Malone; wretches who were always
praising her rival in her hearing!" A day or two after the storm, she
had gone to Helen, and begged and implored her to forget a certain
scene between them in the forest above North Bay; declared that she
would be miserable for life if Helen was not her friend, that she would
rather have her little finger than Mr. Quentin's whole person, that she
would sooner marry the typical crossing-sweeper than him, and that she
had been very cross and bad-tempered, and hoped that Helen would forget
an occasion that it would make her blush to recall! This was very fine,
but _who_ had ever seen Miss Caggett blush? However, Helen was quite
ready to accept the olive-branch, and, like the school-boys, to say
"Pax."
There was a considerable gathering at the band, including "Mr. Quentin
and Co.," as Mrs. Creery humorously called them. On band nights, the
former usually reclined on the sward, literally and figuratively at
Helen's feet, but to-night this butterfly was occupied (in quite a
temporary manner) with a nice-looking widow, who had come over from
Rangoon to pay a visit to her sister, Mrs. King, at Viper. People were
walking about in couples, standing in groups, and sitting down in rows.
Mrs. Creery (who did not appreciate the solitude of greatness) nodded
to Helen to approach, and take a place beside her, saying, rather
patronizingly, as she accepted the invitation, "So I hear that your
little bachelor's dinner went off quite nicely, and that everything was
eatable except the ice pudding!"
Helen felt annoyed, "quite nicely" was indeed but faint praise, after
all the trouble she had taken, and the success that she flattered
herself she had achieved.
She made no reply, but became rather red.
"And you had Mr. Quentin, of course, and the General, and Mr. Latimer,
and Dr. Parks. What champagne did you give them; from the mess, or the
bazaar?"
"Bazaar champagne! Oh, Mrs. Creery"—indignantly—"there is no such
thing, is there?"
"Yes, and why not? I believe no one can tell the difference between
it and that expensive stuff at the mess. I declare—" her attention
suddenly distracted to another quarter—"look at Mr. Lisle, in a
respectable suit of clothes"—glancing over to where that gentleman was
talking to three men.
"Billy!" she screamed to one of Mrs. Home's little boys, "go over
to Mr. Lisle, and tell him that I want him at once. Fancy"—turning
to Helen and speaking in a tone of pious horror—"those men are
European convicts, tickets-of-leave, and allowed to use the garden and
library—a very unwise indulgence. I quite set _my_ face against it,
and so I've told the General. Of course no decent person would speak to
the wretches; no one but a man like Lisle!"
"What have they been sent here for?" asked her companion.
"One for forgery, one for stabbing a man in a sailor's row in
Calcutta, and one was, _he_ says, sent here by mistake; but most of
them say _that_! Well," raising her voice, "Mr. Lisle, permit me to
congratulate you on your choice of companions."
"Poor creatures! They never have the chance of exchanging a word with
any one but each other, it pleases them, and does _me_ no harm. Lots of
worse fellows are at large,—and prospering!"
"Oh, pray don't excuse yourself, Mr. Lisle. Birds of a feather—you
know the adage."
"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Creery," making an inclination of such
exaggerated deference, that Helen now understood what Miss Caggett
meant, when she said that he was polite to rudeness. "You sent for me,
Mrs. Creery?"—interrogatively.
"Yes, because I did not choose to see you talking to those jail birds!
You can talk to _me_ instead."
Here was alluring invitation!
"Of course you know Miss Denis—but only recently. You were late in
welcoming her to Port Blair!"
"I have the pleasure of knowing Miss Denis, but as to welcoming her to
Port Blair, such a proceeding would be altogether presumptuous on my
part, and no doubt she received a welcome, from the proper quarter."
And he once more bowed himself before Mrs. Creery.
Helen could scarcely keep her countenance when she met his eyes, and
hastily turned off her smiles by saying,—
"I am sorry you could not dine with us last night."
"Mr. Lisle _never_ dines out," replied the elder lady, speaking
precisely as if she was Mr. Lisle's interpreter.
"Quentin is talking of getting up a dinner," he said, "in fact he is
rather full of it."
"Dinner! Well, don't let him give it till full moon. I hate crossing
in the dark, and be sure it is on a mutton-day!" said the elder lady
authoritatively. (N.B. Mutton was only procurable once a week.)
"I will remember your suggestions, but a good deal depends on the
butler, and _his_ inclination. He is rather an imperious person, we
have but little voice in the domestic arrangements."
"_You!_"—scornfully—"of course not; but I should hope that Mr.
Quentin is master of his own house."
"He leaves all to Abraham, and generally everything has turned out
well—except perhaps the writing of the _menu_! Last time, people were
a little startled on glancing over it, to see that they were going to
partake of 'Roast lion and jam pupps.'"
Helen laughed delightedly, but the elder lady gravely said, "Oh, roast
loin and jam puffs. Well, that's the worst of not having a lady in the
house. Such mistakes never happen in _my_ establishment!"
"Would you like to take a turn now, Miss Denis?" said Mr. Lisle,
glancing at her as he spoke.
"I daresay she would, and so would I," returned Mrs. Creery briskly,
rising and walking at the other side of him, an honour for which he was
by no means prepared.
"What is that unearthly noise?" inquired Helen; "_what_ are those
sounds that nearly drown the band?"
"Yes; reminds me of a pig being killed," rejoined Mr. Lisle; "but it
is merely the Andamanese school-children on the beach. This is the day
that their _wild_ parents come to see them; they arrived this morning
in a big canoe, and doubtless brought all kinds of nice, wholesome,
dainty edibles for their young people. They are sitting in a circle,
whooping and yelling, real _bonâ fide_ savages! Would you like to come
out and see them?"
"Certainly not," exclaimed Mrs. Creery, indignantly.
At this moment they were joined by the General and Captain Rodney, who
had just entered the gardens.
"Have you heard anything more about that fellow, sir?" inquired Mr.
Lisle.
"No; nothing as yet, but Adams and King are doing their best. I fancy
he has taken to the bush."
"Oh! then in that case, the Andamanese will soon bring him in,"
observed Mr. Latimer. "That, or starvation; roots and berries won't
keep soul and body together, though many have tried the experiment."
"What! _what_ is all this about? What do you mean?" inquired Mrs.
Creery, excitedly.
"Oh! rather a bad business at Hadow last night. One of the convicts
killed a warder, and has got away," replied the General.
"How did it happen?"
"It seems that this fellow, Aboo Sait, a Mahomedan, has always been an
unusually bad lot. A few months ago, he nearly beat out the brains of
another convict with his hoe, merely excusing himself on the plea that
he was tired of life, and wanted to be hanged. However, as his victim
recovered, we were unable to oblige him, and he was heard to say that
he would do for a white man next time! Last night, just before they
went to section, he was missed, and one of the warders was sent to
look for him; but as he did not return, a general search was made, and
the warder was found on his face among the reeds, stabbed through the
heart, and Aboo was still missing."
"I'm glad he is on the mainland!" ejaculated Mrs. Creery, with a
shudder. "I would not change places with Mrs. Manners for a trifle!"
"Then he is not so desirous of being executed as you imagined," said
Mr. Lisle. "He did not give himself up."
"Not he!" rejoined the General. "Life is sweet; his threats meant
nothing."
"Perhaps he has gone off to sea," suggested Colonel Denis. "I know they
have all a foolish notion that those far-away islands are India, and
that the steamboat that brings them here, merely goes round and round
for a few days to deceive them—they being below under hatches."
"No fear of his taking to the water, Colonel," replied the General. "I
have put a stop to that little game with the boats, and no convict crew
can now take out a boat, unless the owner, or some European, is with
them. The rascals went off with no end of boats, and got picked up at
sea as shipwrecked lascars, &c. Two even got so far north as London, in
the affecting character of 'castaways.'"
"And how did they fare there?" inquired Helen.
"In princely style, by their own account, they would like to repeat the
visit; they were fed and clothed and fêted and supplied with money;
they actually went to the theatre, and had their photographs taken—the
last a fatal snare—but they were vain! The moment they landed in
Bombay, thanks to their photos, the police wanted them, sent them back
to us—and here they are!"
"Yes, the boats were a great temptation; but now they go off on logs,"
said Mr. Latimer, "and even take to the sea in chains; the Malays,
especially, can swim like fish. However, their fellow-convicts are
getting too sharp for them; the reward of five rupees puts them on
their mettle."
"Too much on their mettle, sometimes!" protested Mrs. Graham, who had
joined the group. "Last monsoon, my boatmen nearly capsized the boat
one evening I was returning from church. What between the runaway's
struggles to escape, and their determination to land him, once or twice
we were all within a point of going over. My screams and expostulations
were quite useless!"
"The natives are very sharp after convicts, too," said the General;
"and I'll double the reward this time; it's not pleasant to leave such
a scoundrel as Aboo Sait loafing round the settlements,—especially as
he is _armed_!
"Miss Denis," turning to Helen, "there is a very singular object in the
sky to-night, which I'm sure you have never seen; we call it Moses'
Horn. Lisle, you should take her up the hill, and let her see it before
it fades. I've a lot of work to do, and I'm going home," (to Helen) "or
I would not depute any one to exhibit this rather rare sight."
In compliance with the General's suggestion, Helen and Mr. Lisle left
the little gardens together (despite Mrs. Creery's angry signals to the
former), and walked up to the flagstaff, and surveyed the sea and sky,
and beheld a long purple streak extending from the south, and pointing
as it were directly to the island. It was very sharply defined, and
gigantic in size, and had to Helen rather an awful, and supernatural
appearance.
"It is shaped like a finger," she said at last. "I never saw anything
so strange!"
"Yes, the finger of fate," agreed her companion, "and if I were
superstitious, I would say that it was pointing straight at us. Perhaps
there may be some remote connection between our planets; perhaps they
are identical."
As they stood gazing, the phenomenon gradually melted away before their
eyes, and was replaced by the moon, which now rose out of the sea like
a huge fire balloon!
"The moon is irrepressible out here," remarked Mr. Lisle, "she seems
always to the fore."
"So much the better," replied Helen, "these Eastern nights are
splendid. I wonder, by-the-way, why the moon has always been spoken of
by the feminine gender."
"As the Lady Moon? Oh! that question is easily answered:—Because she
is never the same two days running."
"Now, Mr. Lisle, I call that rude—a base reflection on my sex. I don't
believe we are half as changeable as yours.
"'One foot on sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never.'
Pray, to whom does that refer?" and she looked at him interrogatively.
"I could give you a dozen quotations on the other side, but I
will spare you; it is my opinion that women are as changeable as
weathercocks."
"An opinion founded on your own experience?"
"Well, no, I am wise; _I_ profit by the experience of my friends."
"Oh!" rather scornfully, "second-hand things are never valuable!"
Mr. Lisle laughed and said, "Well, don't let us quarrel. What did we
start with? Oh! the moon;" and gazing over at that orb, he added, "I,
too, can repeat poetry, Miss Denis, and this seems just a fitting place
to quote:
"'Larger constellations burning—mellow moons and happy skies;
Breadths of tropic shade, and palms in clusters—knots of paradise.'"
This was an apt quotation, and exactly illustrated the scene before
them. The loud striking of a clock aroused these two people from a
rather reflective silence; it recalled them sharply from day dreams,
to the dinner-hour! And, after a little desultory conversation, they
retraced their steps, and rejoined the crowd in the gardens just as the
band was playing "God Save the Queen."