visible on the features of the fair auditors, and the laughter of the
gentlemen was immoderate. Captain Ward's only remark was: 'Really, the
cool temperature of that fellow is without parallel; it is a pity he's
not an Irishman. He ought assuredly to have been born one, for he
certainly is what they term "a broth of a boy"; but come, let us have an
end of this "bald, disjointed chat." Pray make yourself a little
agreeable, Doctor; give us something to amuse us, and for a time forget
your quibbles, your "pribbles and prabbles," as good Sir Hugh has it.'
'Well, as you ask so pretty, as our juvenile friends say, and will
promise not to abuse me any more, I'll try what I can do; but it must be
something very short. It will soon be eight bells, and then we break up
for the evening.'
'Don't waste any more time, then,' said Lady Jervois, 'and instead of
abusing we'll all combine to praise you.'
We have no record of Dr. Ticklemore's short tale. All we know of it is
that it amused the ladies very much; and of course, being approved by
the fairer half of the creation, the gentlemen were in a manner
compelled to applaud too. The next morning the Captain appeared to be
specially occupied with his maps and charts, and two of the boats, each
in charge of a junior officer, were sent out to take soundings, while
the _Elephanta_ scarcely moved on her way. The Captain suspected that an
under-current had carried the vessel several points to leeward, and, if
this were not seen to in time, we should not make Suez so nicely as he
wished. Leaving the Captain, who was not only a thorough seaman, but a
most careful officer, to attend to these matters, the party on board
occupied themselves according to their inclinations: the ladies brought
up their work, as there was a fair breeze, which under the awning was
pleasant enough; and the gentlemen either wrote, or read, or chatted, or
made arrangements for the evening with the ladies who sang or played. 'I
wish I was a vocalist,' said Lady Jervois. 'Do you?' said Captain
Trevanion; 'tell me why.' 'Oh, everyone wishes to be accomplished as a
musician, and I can do nothing in that way but play over the lessons I
learned at school.' 'Suppose it be so, it is not too late to learn. When
at home you will find numberless ladies capable and willing to help you
to cultivate music.' 'Ah, Captain Trevanion, they can't give me a
voice.' 'But how do you know that you have no voice?' 'Oh, they told me
so at school, and I feel I have no voice.' 'You must not set things down
against yourself; don't give up till you have had the opinion of a
first-rate master, and, if I may advise, I should say, go about and
hear as much good music and singing as you can.' 'I think I'll take your
advice; it is at all events very agreeable, should it not eventually
help me.' 'Ah, but I think it will!' said Marston, who had been standing
by during the whole colloquy. 'And now, Lady Jervois, if you will go
with us to the piano, and do us the honour to listen to our practice for
the evening, you will, as it were, be taking the first step in your
projected course of study, only under amateur musicians instead of
masters. Mrs. Smythe will, I am sure, feel highly complimented by your
attention to the practice. Here she comes.' 'Dear Mrs. Smythe,' said
Lady J., 'will you permit an untaught ignorant creature like myself the
pleasure and advantage of hearing your practice?' 'Dear Lady Jervois,'
returned Mrs. Smythe, 'your presence at the practice will give us all
sincere pleasure, and be esteemed a great compliment, too.'
Thus Lady J. became a regular attendant on the morning practice of the
musical party, and of course became more intimate with them than she had
been before. When the practice was over the party dispersed--some to
chess, some to read, and some to play at the old game of 'Crambo' (in
which they all eventually joined); and though they might not manage so
well as Queen Elizabeth and Sir W. Raleigh did, still it caused some
amusement.
When the din of tongues, and the mutual raillery and the laughing
consequent on the game at 'Crambo' had subsided, Captain Ward and
Trevanion sat down to a game at chess. They selected for their opening
move that subtle one known as the Evans Gambit. They had scarcely begun
when Lady J. came to the table, and seated herself near enough to watch
the game. She said, 'Don't mind me; I promise not to speak a word; but
though a very indifferent player, I am fond of the game.' After a tough
battle it ended in a draw.
'I did not know you were a chess player, Lady J., or I should long since
have asked for a game.' 'I fear you are laughing at me; I am not at all
strong enough to contend with you.' 'But you will give proof, I hope, as
I am one of those stiff-necked people who take nothing on trust.' 'Oh,
you may take my word for that--on trust.' 'But will you not give me
proof?' 'Certainly, to-morrow morning, if you like. It is too late
to-day to begin a game.' 'But it is not too late, if you do not know it,
to show you Philidor's legacy.' 'I do not; yet I should like to know
it.' 'It arose in this way. It is admitted that you cannot give
checkmate with _two_ knights.' 'I think I have heard so.' 'In one of the
cafés of Paris, and in Philidor's presence, this was strongly insisted
on. He heard all that was said, and then asserted that he would give
checkmate with one knight, and without any other piece or pawn to assist
it. One of the speakers said in reply, "I'll bet you £1,000 you don't."
"Very well, I take your bet," said Philidor. "Mind, you are not to have
any piece or pawn to help you." "The checkmate shall be perfect and
complete by the move of one knight alone," returned Philidor.' 'And,
pray, how was it accomplished?' inquired Lady J. 'That I shall now have
the pleasure of showing you,' said Trevanion. And to the lady's no small
delight he showed how the checkmate with one knight was brought about.
(I see since this was written that the final position in Philidor's
legacy is published in one of the periodicals of the day as a problem,
but without giving the credit to the famous old master, whose ingenuity
and skill in playing the game so as to arrive at the position in
question seems almost beyond human power to conceive.)
Lady J. had not attended the morning practice longer than a fortnight,
when the benefit derived from it was perceptible, not only to herself,
but to others. In order to gain courage and to strengthen her voice, she
sang at first in unison with Mrs. Smythe a number of sweet and admired
airs: 'Oh! come to me when daylight sets'; 'You shall walk in silk
attire'; 'Oft in the stilly night,' and a great many simple melodies.
Finding that she could remember these airs and sing them to herself gave
great pleasure to Lady J. and to her friends too; she found that her
voice was gaining power, and Mrs. Smythe declared that her ear was true,
and that if the voyage had lasted another month she would have been able
to take part in glees and duets. 'I fear you are flattering me too
much,' returned Lady J.; 'but I certainly shall persevere.' 'I told you
long ago that you were wrong to set the thing down against yourself, did
I not?' said Trevanion. 'And I threw in my little help, did I not?' said
Marston. 'You both did, and so encouraged me, that I am now hopeful of
myself.' 'When we get home, and you meet with a good teacher, I'll bet a
dozen pairs of gloves that in less than six months you take part in any
of the duets or glees we are practising now.' 'I will not venture on a
bet, but really, I do feel infinitely more hopeful than I was!'
The _Elephanta_ was now at Suez, and as usual the weather was so
dreadfully hot that no pastimes nor amusements could be thought of; to
exist was a difficulty, and it was the same all through the Red Sea, and
so it continued till the party reached Alexandria. Then came the bustle
and trouble of transhipment to the steamer for England, and the
delightful change of the Mediterranean breeze and cool climate for the
dreadful heat of the Red Sea. All the passengers enjoyed the change
immensely; the walking the deck was so enjoyable that it superseded all
other modes of passing time. Trevanion and Lady J. were indefatigable in
taking this exercise. This attracted the notice of Miss Perkins and her
friend Miss Wiseman; the former observed that she perceived that the
widow was a great general. 'She first flirted with Captain Ward, but
finding that was of no use, she took up the singing line, and that seems
to have answered much better. Trevanion is evidently spoony.' 'I thought
so too, when I saw them walking the deck morning and evening.' 'The
truth is, my dear, that there is no being up to a widow--no, they come
over a man when he's not thinking of anything.' 'That's just it, they
take him altogether unawares. Now, to think of that cunning creature
pretending to want to learn to sing, merely to get on terms of intimacy
with that spoon Trevanion, and he so dull and so besotted with his music
that he does not see it.' Much more in the same strain was said, which
it is not worth while to put down.
The new steamer, the _Bucephalus_, tore along at a great rate, and
passed some of the most interesting and storied scenes the world has to
show. As the Pillars of Hercules were passed, and the noble vessel
pointed towards old England, the anxiety to get the first glimpse of the
dear land was so great that some of the passengers sat up all night. At
last the ship came in sight of the blessed shore, and shortly afterwards
anchored off Southampton. When the ladies were safely landed, and with
their luggage installed in the Grand Hotel, the gentlemen, after seeing
that their own goods and chattels were all right, adjourned with the
whole party to the breakfast-room.
The breakfast was scarcely finished, when two strangers appeared to take
charge of Mrs. Smythe and Mrs. Forbes; one of them a brother of the
first-named lady, the other first-cousin of the latter. These
gentlemen, anxious not to lose the train for Scotland, scarcely allowed
the two ladies time to say good-bye to their friends who had been their
late shipmates. This was, however, at last accomplished, with promises
of corresponding, the gentlemen vociferating, 'Come, or you will lose
the train!' and they were off to the land of cakes. Shortly after
breakfast was over, down came Lady J. dressed for travelling. 'You go, I
think,' said Trevanion, 'to your aunt, Lady Drummond, in Eaton Square?'
'Yes,' replied Lady J.; 'and you go to the Army and Navy Club?' 'Yes,'
said Trevanion. 'And I,' said Marston, 'am bound for the Selwyns' in
Devonshire.' 'I think I have heard a whisper that there are certain
bright eyes in Devon that are irresistible on this occasion.' 'Ah,
Trevanion,' said Marston, looking a little red and conscious, 'you have
been a traitor! I see how L. J. has become possessed of my secret.' 'I
really could not help it,' said Trevanion, laughing. 'Let me say,' said
Lady J., 'though I have never seen the fair young creature, that with
all my heart I wish you every success, Mr. Marston, and every future
happiness.' 'Hearty and sincere thanks,' returned the young gentleman,
blushing deeply, in spite of himself; 'and may I shortly be in a
position to congratulate you, Lady Jervois?' It was now the lady's turn
to look down to her feet, as a blush mantled over her beautiful
features. 'Well, Marston,' said Trevanion, coming to the lady's
assistance, 'when shall we see you in town again? But, perhaps that is
not a fair question, as it will probably depend on another's will.'
'Come, come, you shut up! It's a comfort to think that there are a pair
of us. Now let me shake hands, and bid good-bye to Lady Jervois.'
When Marston was gone, only Miss Perkins and Miss Wiseman, beside
themselves, were left of all the party which had landed that morning.
Lady J., with her usual kindness, asked them if they were bound for
London; they said they were. Then said Lady J., 'You had better come
with us; Trevanion and I have secured a first-class carriage to London,
therefore your doing so will put us to no expense, and no
inconvenience.' 'How can you say so!' whispered Trevanion. 'I reckoned
on the privacy of our ride to say a great many things that I could not
so well say before. But you, you wicked creature, have entirely spoilt
my plan.' 'And did you not deserve it, sir, for planning anything so
deliberately wicked?' And as she said this her eyes sparkled and danced
with sportive malice, and Trevanion was more hopelessly in love than
ever.
In the meantime the two young ladies were profuse in their
acknowledgments of Lady J.'s kindness and generosity. And so the party
managed to get to London, where the young ladies made their adieux; and
then Trevanion, having ordered a close carriage to take them to Eaton
Square, looked exultingly at Lady J.; but she was peremptory, and then
an open carriage was ordered. I am quite at a loss to guess why she was
so determined as to these arrangements, but, nevertheless, the ride was
very delightful. Trevanion held Lady J.'s hand in his all the way, and
this rewarded him for everything! There was a sweet long pressure of
hands ere the two parted, and the look of tenderness that stole from
Lady J.'s eyes overcame Trevanion so entirely that he hardly knew what
he was doing or saying. Lady Drummond sent out the most kindly
invitation to Trevanion, which he did not accept, begging to be excused
till the next day; he then bade adieu to Lady J., and as he did so felt
more depressed than he had ever felt in his life, and as if all around
was gloom; he felt truly that the sun of his life was gone.
The next day, about two p.m., Trevanion called in Eaton Square, and to
his great mortification found that the ladies had gone out; he left a
card for each of them, and tried to console himself as best he could. He
then went to look at a horse that Colonel Brisbane, who was about to
return to India, wished to dispose of; a very handsome creature,
warranted to be sound in wind and limb, for which eighty guineas was to
be paid. 'Well,' said Trevanion, 'I'll try him in the "Row" this
evening, and if he suits me, I'll buy him.' The horse went beautifully,
and seemed to feel at once that he had a rider on his back, and the
rider was so pleased with him, that he made up his mind to take him; and
after he had been round the Row, he was enjoying an easy canter, when he
was obliged to rein up by a stylish pony phaeton, drawn by a pair of
silver grays not quite fourteen hands high, but very lovely. Two ladies
sat in the front, and the younger one was driving; a groom sat behind.
The recognition between Trevanion and the younger lady was
instantaneous, and immediately after the introduction to Lady Drummond
had taken place, she said that she regretted she was out when he called,
but they did not think he would have chosen so early an hour, and
thought that they should be at home in time to see him.
'Ah!' said Trevanion, 'all this arises from those vile Indian customs I
have got used to, but I shall become more civilized by-and-by.' 'No,
no,' said the lively old lady; 'it arises from your formality and
stiffness in refusing my invitation yesterday.' 'You are exceedingly
kind to say so,' returned Trevanion. 'I suppose you'll adhere to it now
by refusing my invitation for this evening?' 'No, Lady Drummond, I
accept it with great pleasure, but as I have no groom with me, I must
ride back with the horse to Colonel Brisbane's stables, and return for
the evening; he won't be mine till the Colonel has got his price.' Both
the ladies were loud in their praises of the horse, and were glad that
he was to become Trevanion's property. 'And now,' said the gentleman, 'I
must go and dress, and I have no time to spare.' 'Now, mind you are
there in time--eight p.m. precisely.' 'I will be punctual, depend upon
it, Lady Drummond.' 'Well, I do in some sort depend upon it, for reasons
I don't think it necessary to mention just now,' and away went the
ladies, and away went Trevanion, after the bows and _au revoirs_ had
been duly paid.
As he anticipated, he spent a most pleasant evening. He found Lady
Drummond a very agreeable, sensible, and frank old lady, and
consequently found himself at home at once. The presence of Lady J., a
real personification of grace and beauty, whose quiet happiness beamed
in every glance, insensibly enhanced the enjoyment and pleasure of all
three, the two ladies and their visitor. Trevanion, in fact, reckoned
this evening as one of the white periods of his life.
It will be neither amusing nor instructive to trace the progress of a
courtship where everything was in favour of the lovers. The consent of
friends, mutual inclination, and ample means, made everything smooth.
The one cloud was the necessity of going to India for some years. At
this time cards from Mr. and Mrs. Marston reached our friends, with
letters in which M. declared that he would stay at home to the last
possible day, his Clara not liking the thought of India, though the
darling was willing to go anywhere with him. Trevanion wrote back to say
that his marriage was finally arranged, and would shortly come off,
which it did on the 10th of the following month, when Captain Trevanion
and Lady Jervois were made one. They spent their honeymoon at a pretty
old ivy-covered place called the Priory, which was lent to them for the
occasion by a friend of Lady Drummond's. When the honeymoon was over,
they went to Italy, where they spent some time. They visited Juliet's
reputed tomb in Verona; then they passed on to Venice and read
Shakespeare and Otway with redoubled zest, 'swam in gondolas' daily
while there, then returned on their footsteps, stayed a few days at
Fiorenza, and did not forget to see and admire 'the statue that enchants
the world.' They then determined on a short stay at Rome, where the
wonders of the Vatican delighted them greatly. The exquisitely expressed
agony of the Laocoon, the matchless, manly beauty of the Apollo, the
resolute endurance and suffering of the Dying Gladiator, indelibly
impressed themselves on their remembrance. To use their own words, these
marvels spoke in stone. Nor were the masterpieces of Michael Angelo,
Raphael, and others overlooked, but the bare enumeration of them would
take up too much of our space and time.
They returned home saturated with admiration and enthusiasm for Italian
sculpture and painting. Nor did they come home altogether empty-handed.
They brought with them some lovely specimens of Italian work as presents
for friends and relatives. These were too many to be separately noticed,
but a Hercules destroying two centaurs was particularly admired, and was
much prized by Lady Drummond, to whom it was given; and a Theseus
delivering Ariadne from the sea monster, which was sent to Mrs. Marston,
was so much thought of by that lady and her friends, that she declared
it to be the most beautiful specimen of sculpture she had ever seen, and
she wrote such a charming letter to Lady Trevanion on the subject, that
it gave rise to a kind and affectionate correspondence between the two
ladies, though they had never seen each other. However, in the spring
Mrs. Marston, with her little boy, arrived in town, and there the
ladies became almost inseparable. The last we heard of them was, that
they were the two special attractions at a grand ball given by Lady D.
just before Captain and Lady Trevanion sailed for India. Mr. and Mrs.
Marston remained at home another year, then reluctantly embarked for the
land of the East.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] The author is quite aware of the anachronism, but hopes it may be
pardoned for the sake of its applicability.
No. II.
CAPTAIN WHISTLER, AND LIFE IN CANTONMENT AT SECUNDERABAD.
In the year 18--, the ---- Regiment, Madras N.I., marched for the
cantonment of Secunderabad. The march was accomplished in the average
number of days without any more serious mishap or sickness than was
usual in those days, owing to the wise precautions taken by the officer
in command, in communication with the doctor of the regiment. The length
of each march being known, the hour of rising and commencing it was so
fixed as to enable the men to reach the ground appointed before the sun
was powerful; this, on an average, fell out between six and seven a.m.
No encamping ground whereon any large party of human beings, or any
other regiment, had halted was ever made use of for their purpose,
experience having shown that the poison of cholera dwells in such places
long after the people have departed from them, and in some cases even
when (as reported) the former sojourners had not been afflicted with
this terrible disease. The débris which they leave, and other foul
matters, appear to generate the plague when fresh men occupy the ground,
if such incautious reoccupation occurs within the period of twenty or
thirty days. The camp was always pitched as far from the villages as
convenience would permit, and placed, wherever possible, on high open
ground. The reward of these precautions was that the regiment reached
Secunderabad without losing a man.
We had escaped the cholera, but as we approached the Kistnah we became
unpleasantly acquainted with another of the pests of India. It is true
that tigers are found more or less frequently all over the country, but
wherever there is much low jungle, high grass, reeds and rushes, these
monstrous striped cats are very numerous. The complete cover afforded by
this kind of vegetation encourages their increase greatly, and then they
become so formidable that no one dares singly, or, indeed, without a
strong escort, to pass or repass through such places. They will even, if
they are hungry, attack a whole regiment, which, with the families of
the Sepoys and followers, will scarcely number less than 4,000 or 5,000
souls--men, women, and children; accompanied by some hundreds of
animals--horses, dogs, donkeys, and bullocks, and sometimes also by
elephants and camels. The noise and hubbub of such a camp, the lights
and fires at night, would, it might be imagined, be sufficient to keep
these beasts at a distance, but it is not always so. Even before eight
p.m., when silence is (in well-regulated camps) imposed on all, as all
are supposed to retire to rest at this hour in order to rise for the
early march, the tiger will spring into the midst of men and animals,
tents, etc., seize an unfortunate tatoo, or donkey, or man, and bound
with his prey over all impediments. But more commonly he defers his
attack till all is quiet, and most of the lights and fires are
extinguished or reduced to a few glowing embers here and there, and when
nothing is heard but the sentry's 'All's well!' Then is the time when
this ferocious animal is most to be feared, especially if the moon is
up, as it affords him light enough to select his victim, but does not
give the latter time or opportunity to provide against it, neither can
others follow in pursuit, the robber being generally lost to sight in a
few seconds; but even in this case the rule is not absolutely without
exception, as I shall shortly show.
The loss sustained from these feline thieves during our march was first
that of a draught bullock, which was taken out of the midst of the camp,
or out of that part of it occupied by the camp followers. There was a
great noise of men and dogs, and some Shikaries, who were with the camp,
sent a few shots after the thief, but he was so soon lost to sight that
they may have been fired less from sight than from guess. The second
capture occurred on the night following that on which the bullock was
carried off: it was of an unfortunate tatoo (pony) belonging to a
Jemadar, who could ill afford to lose it, as he was an old man not well
able to march. He had not long, however, to overtax his strength by
marching, as the officers of his company subscribed twenty rupees to
enable him to buy another pony, which he soon did, rejoicing that the
tiger had taken his former one away, as, by the generosity of the
officers, he had secured a much younger and better one.