A PERIOD OF PROBATION.
At Karachi there came the first interruption to the smoothness which
had hitherto marked the journey. Lady Haigh had expected to be met at
this point by the gunboat which was under Sir Dugald’s orders, and was
generally occupied in patrolling the Shat-el-Arab and the Persian Gulf
for the protection of British interests, and she had intended to make
a triumphal voyage and entry into Baghdad by its means. But instead of
the gunboat there came a telegram from Sir Dugald to say that the
services of the _Nausicaa_ were imperatively required in the opposite
direction, and that the travellers must therefore come on in the
ordinary way. Unfortunately, however, they had missed the regular
steamer to Basra, and Lady Haigh, who had developed an extraordinary
desire to have the journey over, insisted that they should take
passage on another that happened to be starting. Charlie Egerton
protested loudly against this, declaring that he knew what those
wretched coasters were like--ramshackle old things, creeping along and
touching at all sorts of unheard-of ports, and staying for no one knew
how long. They would probably reach Basra not a day sooner than if
they had waited for the next steamer; and if they were fated to lose
time on the journey, why not spend it at Karachi, and take the
opportunity of showing Miss Anstruther a little of India? But here
Lady Haigh looked at him with mingled sorrow and impatience, and
simply reiterated her determination to press on.
The voyage on the coasting steamer was a new experience to Cecil. The
vessel was old, the cargo mixed, the crew also mixed--in fact,
everything was mixed but the society, and that was extremely select,
since it was confined to their own party. The captain and mate,
overawed by the presence of two ladies on board, withdrew themselves
as much as possible from the cabin, though they fraternised with
Charlie, as every one did, when they could get him alone. Day after
day the vessel steamed past the same low shores, with coral-reefs
stretching out to sea, and ranges of low hills in the distance behind.
Several times, during the first part of the voyage, she touched at
queer little towns of square, white, flat-roofed houses, with high
towers, where the inhabitants could catch what wind there was, rising
up among the feathery date-palms. There were Englishmen at all these
places--telegraph officials, clerks, and agents--who talked
Anglo-Indian slang, and did their best to render life endurable by all
manner of Indian expedients. After this there was a considerable
stretch of coast without any port, and the captain and mate developed
an inclination to take things easily and to let the ship look after
herself. The first result of this was that the steamer ran ashore one
night, taking the ground quite quietly and gently on a reef connected
with an archipelago of small islands. The captain blamed the mate,
whose watch on deck it was; the mate blamed the captain, who knew
these waters better than he did; and both united in blaming the
steersman, the charts, and the compass. The blame having been thus
equitably distributed, the belligerents agreed to bury the hatchet and
try and get the ship off; and as it appeared to be necessary to shift
the cargo for this purpose, tents were constructed for the passengers
on the nearest island. To these they were very glad to retreat, for
the ship had heeled over to such a degree that the floor of the cabins
was a steep slope, at the foot of which everything from the other side
of the room gradually collected.
Here, then, on this nameless island, with its palm-trees and its
spring of water, were all the materials for a latter-day idyll. A
shipwreck, a desert island, a prolonged picnic, everything was
complete, and yet one or two things spoilt it altogether, so that the
episode would scarcely be worth mentioning save to show how Lady
Haigh’s schemes went wrong. Charlie did not fail to remind her that he
had counselled her to wait at Karachi, and pointed out that she, at
any rate, would have been much more comfortable there. Their desert
island was so far complete that there was even a likelihood of pirates
in its neighbourhood, although Cecil, who had a robust and healthy
faith in the past exploits of the British navy, and in the _Pax
Britannica_ established in Indian waters at this period of the
century, could never be brought to believe that Charlie was doing more
than trying to frighten her when he mentioned them. The greatest
drawback to the place was its extreme smallness. There could be no
exciting explorations, journeys made in single file through dense
forests right into the heart of the island, because there was no
forest and so very little island. There could be no hope of
discovering volcanoes, caves, traces of previous inhabitants, wild
beasts, or any other commonplaces of desert-island travel, because
there was no room for them. If Lady Haigh was in her tent and wanted
Cecil, she knew that she must be either sitting in the shade outside,
or standing under the palm-trees looking out to sea, for there was
nowhere else. Again, there were no hardships--not even the semblance
of any. The ladies were not so much as obliged to make their own beds,
for, besides their two maids, there was one of the ship’s stewards, a
Zanzibari boy, who was always on shore at their service. On board this
luckless youth was perpetually falling from the rigging or into the
hold, and he was sent on land to keep him from doing any more damage
to himself or to other people. No doubt it would be pretty and idyllic
to describe how Charlie Egerton picked up sticks and lighted the fire
in order that Cecil might prepare the breakfast, but it would not be
true; for, in the first place, there were no sticks, but a portable
stove brought from the vessel, which burned petroleum; and, in the
second place, the ship’s cook was still responsible for the meals. In
fine, this was a shipwreck with all the modern improvements.
Perhaps it was this fact which rendered the relations of the castaways
different from those usually observed under such circumstances. The
crew did not go off in the boats, abandoning the vessel and the
passengers, nor did they broach the rum-casks. They worked as hard and
were as obliging and respectful as before, and brought queer fishes
and shells for the ladies to see when they found them. When the
captain and mate walked along the reef at night to what was still
called the “cabin dinner,” they still ate in silence, and when the
meal was over, the mate felt it his duty at once to go and see what
the men were doing, and when he did not come back, the captain
invariably went to see what was keeping him, and did not come back
either. As for the men, they appeared in great force on Sunday
evening, when hymns were to be sung, and again one week-day, when a
concert was got up after work was over, the sailors in their clean
clothes, with very shiny faces and very smooth hair, and the Lascars
in gorgeous raiment of all the colours of the rainbow, but otherwise
the passengers saw less of them than they had done on shipboard.
The archipelago to which the desert island belonged was not all
uninhabited. There were two good-sized islands in it which supported a
considerable population, and the castaways made two expeditions to the
larger of these. The people were all bigoted Moslems, who testified
extreme horror at the sight of the unveiled faces of Lady Haigh and
Cecil, and regarded the whole party with feelings of lively
disapprobation. Their own women were wrapped up from top to toe
whenever they ventured out of doors, and their faces were additionally
protected by a thick horse-hair mask, so that it is possible that it
was the discomfort of this arrangement which made the men fear a
domestic rebellion as the result of the visit of the Frangi ladies.
For the rest, the islanders lived a good deal on fish, and apparently
also threw away a good deal, and dried a considerable quantity for
future consumption, which made their streets unpleasantly odoriferous,
and there were few attractions in their surroundings to counterbalance
this defect, until, in extending the area of their observations, Cecil
and Charlie made a great discovery. Lying among the hills which backed
the little town was a valley filled with prehistoric ruins, and beyond
this again an ancient cemetery. To Cecil this find was as a
trumpet-call to utilise her detention in a way which would command the
gratitude of the learned world by demonstrating, possibly finally, the
real origin of the Phœnicians, and Charlie required little persuasion
to induce him to help her. Accordingly, they returned to the island
the next day, prepared for business. Photography was not practised
then as it is now, but Cecil intended to sketch the ruins, and Charlie
was to hire natives to begin excavations under his direction.
Unfortunately, these proceedings did not meet the views of the
inhabitants. To them it appeared certain that the strangers were going
to search for hidden treasure, with the necessary result of exposing
the island to the wrath of the defrauded ghostly guardians of the
spoil, and they expressed their dissent so strongly that the baffled
explorers were thankful to be able to return to their boat in safety,
the people hurling maledictions and more substantial missiles after
them. This is the reason why, so far as Cecil is concerned, the
Phœnician problem remains still unsolved.
“I could soon make friends with those island fellows if I had them by
myself,” remarked Charlie as they rowed away, with rather a wistful
look back at the shore.
“But, my dear boy, why don’t you, then?” cried Lady Haigh, with marked
inhospitality. “Go over by yourself and live among them until we get
the ship off. We could easily let you know when we were ready to
start, and we should get on quite well without you.”
“Yes, do go if you would rather,” said Cecil.
“It’s likely, isn’t it?” was his sole reply, and no more was said.
Under ordinary circumstances, Lady Haigh felt sure, he would have been
off to those islanders for a week or a month, even though it had
involved the sacrifice of all his interests in life, and the fact that
he did not succumb to their attractions now showed that there was some
very potent influence at work to detain him. What that influence was,
Lady Haigh had no difficulty in guessing. Charlie’s behaviour as his
cousin’s escort had been most exemplary, but she did not flatter
herself that it was her society he sought. Charlie could never have
been anything but a gentleman, but the assiduous way in which he had
attended upon Cecil and herself since they had left Cairo bespoke
something more than mere politeness. He had found out the way to catch
Cecil’s attention now, and he used it. He was full of the most
enthralling anecdotes and stories, narratives of his own adventures,
and accounts of the queer people he had met in his wanderings, and he
proved that his tales were as potent to interest a graduate of London
University as a knot of listeners in a Cairo coffee-house. It was he
who, by his extraordinary yarns, whiled away the long days on the
island; and they were very long sometimes, for both ladies were
anxious to reach their journey’s end, and chafed somewhat at the
enforced detention. Happily there was no fear that the interruption to
their voyage would cause anxiety to their friends, for the ways of the
coasting steamers were known to be so erratic that no one would think
of theirs as missing for a long time, and by that time they would
probably have been picked up by the next regular steamer from Karachi;
but to Cecil, who was nervously anxious to get to her work, the delay
was a weary one. Under these circumstances Charlie’s power of
discoursing for hours together came as a great relief. Cecil laughed
at him in public, and in private teased him occasionally, in a
dignified way, about his extraordinary flow of conversation; and yet
felt, though she never confessed it to herself, that Baghdad would not
be quite the land of exile she had pictured it, and endured the long
delay very philosophically on the whole.
“I really think that Azim Bey will be grown up by the time I reach
Baghdad,” she said one day, when the crew had been patiently shifting
and reshifting the cargo for some time without producing any
perceptible effect on the ship’s position.
“Are you afraid of getting out of practice, Miss Anstruther?” inquired
Charlie. “Because I shouldn’t a bit mind your keeping your hand in by
teaching me a little. We could get up a stunning schoolroom by putting
one of those flat rocks for a blackboard, and you could instil some
mental philosophy and moral science into me. They never could make me
learn any when I was a boy, and all I’ve picked up since is entirely
practical and quite contrary to all received rules, so that I should
be glad to learn how to think properly.”
“Nonsense, Charlie,” said Lady Haigh, wagging her head wisely; “Miss
Anstruther is anxious to get to her proper work, and doesn’t want to
waste her time on you. If you really want to please her, help the men
to get the ship off, so that we can go on again.”
“Cruel, cruel woman!” he cried. “No sentiment about Cousin Elma, is
there, Miss Anstruther? Well, after that, if my humble efforts can do
anything, we shall not be here much longer, though the mate did remark
airily, when I offered to help, that they didn’t want any landsmen
meddling about. But at any rate, if we wait two or three months
longer, we must be picked up by the mail.”
As it happened, the mail came in sight that very evening, and at once
hove to in answer to the signals from the stranded ship. By the united
efforts of the two crews the coaster was got off, and at length
proceeded on her way, to the great joy of the majority of her
passengers. With Charlie Egerton, however, it was otherwise, for not
only did he regret the pleasant time which was past, but there was a
look in Lady Haigh’s eye now and then which betokened a lecture in
store, and as he guessed what would be the subject of this, he made it
his constant endeavour to avoid it.
“I really feel quite sorry to leave our island now, don’t you, Lady
Haigh?” asked Cecil, as they stood on deck, watching the tops of the
palm-trees disappear beneath the horizon. “Our life there has been so
quiet, a sort of pause between our hurry in starting and the new work
to which we are going.”
“Nonsense, my dear Cecil; you are just like a cat. You can’t bear to
be moved,” said Lady Haigh, with more force than politeness. “There
are some people who would grow sentimental on leaving a prison, if
they had only been there long enough.”
Such impatience was so rare with Lady Haigh that Cecil sank into an
awed silence, and sentimentalised no more over the island. The second
part of the voyage proved to be as safe and pleasant as the first part
had been disastrous, and the captain was merciful enough to make only
short halts at Bushire and Mohammerah. When Basra was reached, it was
found that the services of the gunboat were not yet available, and as
there was little in the town, half-busy and half-ruinous, to allure to
a longer stay, Lady Haigh swallowed her pride sufficiently to let
Charlie take passage for the party in one of the steamers plying to
Baghdad. They were again the only passengers, and were accorded a sort
of semi-royal honour which amused the two younger members of the party
very much, but which seemed only natural to Lady Haigh. The river
voyage was very pleasant, especially when they left behind the
Shat-el-Arab, which was scarcely to be distinguished from the sea, and
entered the Tigris. Villages half hidden in forests of palm, long rows
of black Bedouin tents pitched in the more open spaces, and the people
themselves, wild and suspicious enough, but rudely prosperous and in a
way well-dressed, afforded constant interest to Cecil. Even better was
the distant view of the mountains of Luristan, which was obtained
about mid-way in the journey, the lofty summits covered with perpetual
snow towering above the nearer expanse of feathery green and the
swiftly flowing river at its foot. Cecil sat so long trying in vain to
reproduce in a sketch the full effect of the contrast that she worked
on into the twilight, and was forced at last to desist with a
headache. Upon discovering this fact, Charlie showed himself so
assiduous in moving her deck-chair about for her, and in trying to
arrange her cushions more comfortably, that the sight seemed to
irritate Lady Haigh.
“My dear,” she said at last to Cecil, “you will never be better on
deck here. You are tired out. Go to bed at once, and then you will
wake up fresh and well to-morrow.”
Cecil smiled an assent, and after wishing the others good night,
disappeared into her cabin. Lady Haigh waited impatiently until she
had been gone some little time.
“Charlie,” she said at last, in a low voice, “I want to speak to you.”
“Yes, Cousin Elma?” he made answer, without any suspicious show of
alacrity. “What a start you gave me, though! I was thinking.”
“What about?” asked Lady Haigh, sharply. Then, as his eyes
involuntarily sought the direction in which Cecil had disappeared,
“The usual subject, I suppose? Charlie, I always foretold that when
you did fall in love you would go in very far indeed, but I didn’t
guess how far it would be. This is what comes of not caring for
ladies’ society.”
“Exactly. One lady is enough for me,” he returned--“present company
always excepted, Cousin Elma, of course. But seriously, did you ever
know any one like Miss Anstruther?”
“Now we are well launched into the subject on which I wished to speak
to you,” said Lady Haigh. “Allow me, Charlie, as being in a certain
sense Miss Anstruther’s guardian, to ask you your intentions?”
“To speak to her to-morrow if I can only get her alone, and marry her
as soon as possible, if she will have me,” he replied, promptly.
“So I thought. Well, Charlie, all I have to say is that you are to do
nothing of the kind, however often you may manage to see her alone.”
“Really, Cousin Elma, I believe that Miss Anstruther is of age, and
capable of managing her own affairs.”
“Don’t put on that high and mighty manner, Charlie. I am advising you
for your good and hers. Do you know anything of the footing on which
Miss Anstruther stands here?”
“Once or twice she has mentioned some sort of agreement to remain a
certain time, but I imagine it would not be difficult to get that set
aside.”
“My dear boy, that is all you know about it! Miss Anstruther is
solemnly pledged to remain in this situation for two years. In some
sort of way, I am her security for doing so. Now, I ask you, as an
honourable man, would you be acting rightly if you induced her to
break this agreement, or could you respect her if she showed herself
willing to break it in order to marry a man of whose very existence
she was not aware when she signed it?”
“Very well, Cousin Elma. I will be satisfied with a two years’
engagement, then.”
“You will have nothing of the sort with which to be satisfied,
Charlie. I will not allow you to speak to Miss Anstruther until the
two years are over. Then, if you like, you can say what you want to
say before she signs the second agreement to serve for three years
more. I will leave the matter in her hands then, and you shall have
your chance, but you are not to speak to her now.”
“And may I ask the reason of this extraordinary prohibition?”
Charlie’s tone was dogged and haughty, but Lady Haigh answered
unflinchingly.
“Consider, my dear boy. Let us suppose first that Cecil accepts you.
You know that she is in a very delicate position, and will need in any
case to walk very warily. You know what the Baghdadis are, you know
the miserable scandals which circulate so wonderfully among the
foreign colony in such a town as this. To have her name connected with
yours would at once destroy all the poor girl’s chances of success,
while afterwards her position will be more assured and she will know
better what she is doing. Leave her in peace for these two years,
Charlie; surely it is not such a very great thing to do for her sake?
It is important for her to obtain her salary undiminished, too. You
will see her once a-week at least, so you will know that she is well
and happy, but don’t disturb her in her work by trying to make her
fond of you.”
“What next?” cried Charlie. “But you know she might refuse me, Cousin
Elma. What then?”
“I think it is most probable that she would. She takes an interest in
you, Charlie, but I don’t believe she cares for you at all in the way
you want. Well, you know that she is to spend Sunday at the Residency
whenever she is at Baghdad. Now do you think that she would find any
peace and comfort in her Sundays if she were always obliged to meet a
rejected lover with reproachful eyes? You would make her life a burden
to her.”
“I might go away,” he murmured, dolefully enough, for it is one thing
to despair of your own chances, and quite another to have them
pronounced hopeless by some one else.
“Yes; and sacrifice your prospects irretrievably just as Sir Dugald
has got you this post, in the hope that you would do better here with
him than you have hitherto. I suppose you would intend such a move as
a gentle intimation to poor Miss Anstruther that your ruin lay at her
door? No, don’t be furious, my dear boy; I only say it looks like it.
You would go away with some of those wild Arabs or Kurds, I presume;
but would that be much better than living a civilised life at Baghdad,
and seeing Cecil every Sunday?”
“You are too horribly practical and calculating, Cousin Elma. Not to
speak to her for two years is dreadful. How can I stand it?”
“It’s better than being refused, at any rate,” said Lady Haigh. “But
you know, Charlie, I can’t promise that she will listen to you then,
even if she has learnt to care for you. She is a very conscientious
girl, and quite feels, I believe, that she has a special mission
here.”
“Hang missions!” cried Charlie, rebelliously. “Pretty girls have no
business with them. Why can’t they leave them to ugly old women?”
“Like myself, I suppose?” said Lady Haigh. “Thank you, Charlie--no,
don’t apologise. Well, you see if Cecil believes that she has a
mission to finish Azim Bey’s education, she will probably feel bound
to continue it for the five years specified. If she thinks it her
duty, I believe she will do it.”
“So do I,” said Charlie, seriously. “I had rather not be weighed in
the scale against Miss Anstruther’s duty. I’m afraid I should go to
the wall. But five years, Cousin Elma! Do you know how old I shall be
then?”
“Nonsense!” cried Lady Haigh; “what’s five years at your time of life?
It’s we old people who can’t spare it. Why, anything may happen in
five years.”
A good deal was to happen, more than either Charlie or Lady Haigh
anticipated.
“Well,” said Charlie, “at least I shall see her once a-week. I must
live on that, I suppose, and endure the rest of my time. Now, Cousin
Elma, I have listened to you a good deal, so you must just listen to
me a moment. Did you ever know a girl like her, so sweet and gentle,
and so awfully good? I believe she could do anything she liked with
me, and she doesn’t see it a bit. You know what I mean; she doesn’t
seem to understand compliments, she always wants to talk sense. And
the worst of it is, that whatever I say now she never thinks I’m in
earnest. I know it’s my fault; you’ve told me over and over again not
to talk so fast, but I can’t help it when--well, when I particularly
want to make a good impression, you know, and now she won’t take me
seriously. And I don’t want her to think that I am always playing the
fool,--what can I do?”
“If you ask me,” said Lady Haigh, “I think it is a very good thing,
for your own sake, that you have now two years in which to show Cecil
that you really are in earnest. She has always taken life very
seriously, so that you are rather a new experience to her, you see;
but I think she is beginning to understand you better, if that is any
comfort to you.”
“Thanks awfully, Cousin Elma. I know it’s all my own fault. You
mustn’t think I want to reflect on her. She’s unique, but she’s
absolutely perfect.”
“Oh, Charlie, Charlie, you are a sad fellow!” cried Lady Haigh. “Now,
good night.”