Surrounded by a group to whom Byng had introduced him, Mallender was
enjoying himself thoroughly, listening and talking to keen young men of
the same upbringing and service--his contemporaries.
Six months at Mallender had undoubtedly depressed his spirits. After
the death of his father, lawyers, surveyors, and contractors were his
sole associates; for of late years the Court had fallen into oblivion;
old friends had died or removed to other neighbourhoods, and a new
generation arisen which knew not the heir. It was out of the question
to invite guests to his shabby dilapidated home, where the water
streamed through the roof, and there was no shooting. This unexpected
change to a bright glimpse of his former life, proved inexpressibly
welcome to Geoffrey: here were men well known to him by name, and
actually an old school-fellow, who was quartered in the Fort. As they
sat smoking, and discussing shop, racing, polo, and mutual friends, in
such congenial atmosphere, the new-comer had for the moment completely
lost sight of what he mentally called "his job." Colonel Tallboys, when
he arrived, instantly grasped the situation. Here was Geoffrey full
of animation and enthusiasm, debating and criticising the entries for
Punchestown. This was as it should be--the lure was already working!
To tell the truth, although Mallender had spent five happy hours within
the Club, these hours had passed so rapidly, that it seemed incredible
when his cousin announced that "it was after six o'clock, and time to
make a start."
The transformation of the outward scene appeared equally surprising.
The wind had died away, the breakers merely sobbed softly on the
beach; a clear Eastern night was full of stars, and the light of
electric lamps penetrated into every corner. Numbers of motors were
parked in the vast compound; in some sat various gay and smart ladies,
sipping iced drinks, eating devilled biscuits, and holding informal
meetings with their men friends. Now and then a car would slip out of
the crowd, and take the Mem Sahib and her cavalier for a turn up the
Guindy Road, or along the marine front,--whilst the lady's husband
was finishing an interminable rubber of auction bridge. It had been
one o'clock when Mallender left the Fort--at an hour when all Madras
was under the spell of noonday quiet; servants were "eating rice,"
animals resting, the very crows and hawks temporarily suppressed--but
now the city was awake; the Gorah bazaar, and Georgetown, were humming
like bee-hives, heavily-laden trams, crammed with passengers, clanged
and rumbled up and down the Mount Road, the old established "Europe"
shops, such as Orr's, Spencer's, and Oak's, were brilliantly alight
and filled with customers; motors and bicycles skimmed hither and
thither--luxurious carriages drawn by steppers rolled by, whilst
picturesque foot-passengers, Jutkas, and leisurely bullock-carts gave a
touch of local colour to the scene.
Such was the traffic, that it was a considerable time before Colonel
Tallboys' Napier could extricate itself and thread its smooth way by
Royàpetta towards Egmore. As the car turned sharply through an entrance
gate and up the long drive to Hooper's Gardens, Mallender was both
impressed and surprised. Here was no mere bungalow, but the lofty
stately dwelling of a one-time merchant prince--reared in an age when
space, and rupees, were amply available.
"Hooper's Gardens" stood surrounded by fifty acres of short, coarse
grass, a white, two-storied mansion with pillared verandahs, a flat
roof, and imposing portico. Against a dense background of palms and
shrubberies were pitched a group of tents.
"We are a bit on the outside skirts of fashion," explained Colonel
Tallboys, "but it's a noble, spacious old house--built in spacious
times. One or two wealthy natives live hereabouts in others of the
same class. My neighbour is a Prince of the family of Gulberga. His
premises are a jungle, the whole place is disgracefully kept, full of
horses, mountebanks, and squalid retainers. The fellow is a _terrible_
drawback, I must confess. Well, here we are," he added as the car
stopped; "I expect we shall find Fanny in the drawing-room."
In another moment he had ushered his relative into a lofty apartment,
lit by carefully shaded electric lights. As Mallender advanced, he was
aware of a number of people standing in a group. One of these, a tall
lady, now came sweeping towards him, with an outstretched hand, and
said:
"I am sure you are Fred's cousin. I am so pleased to see you."
Mallender felt instinctively attracted--few could resist Fanny
Tallboys, and her kindly, warm-hearted smile.
After they had exchanged a few words, Colonel Tallboys broke in fussily:
"Come along, Geoffrey, and I'll show you your quarters. Fan," to his
wife, "you'd better look sharp and dress; you know the General, like
the Duke of Wellington, is always a quarter of an hour before his time."
Mallender's quarters were in the encampment, and in his host's wake
he stumbled his way among ropes and lanterns into a large comfortable
"Hill" tent. Here he discovered that all his belongings had already
been unpacked. On the bed, lay his evening clothes, shirt, socks, and
handkerchief; on a little table beside it, were piously arranged his
Prayer Book, and the photographs of his father and mother.
A rather undersized native, with an intelligent, smiling face, wearing
a tweed coat, cord breeches, and leggings, had hastily risen to his
feet and salaamed.
"Here is Anthony," said Colonel Tallboys, with a wave of the hand.
"Hullo, what's this? What tom-fool clothes are these?" he sternly
demanded.
"Major Morant, saar, that very kind gentleman going England, giving me
polo kit, and one cricket suit, one fancy dress, and one mess jacket,"
replied Anthony with voluble respect.
"And you are showing off your new duds! Mind, in service you've got
to wear your white coat and trousers--_no_ fancy costume. Geoffrey,
you will have to keep an eye on this fellow. Well, I must be off, it's
uniform night, on account of the General, but you'll be all right in
black."
Mallender felt inclined to declare that "he felt all wrong in black,"
but already his host was out of earshot, and Anthony and his new
employer were alone.
"Master liking to see my characters?" he asked, producing what looked
like a silk _hussif_, from which he unrolled and offered a variety of
sheets of crested paper.
Mallender took them and, sitting on the side of his cot, glanced
over the bundle. These "chits" were as a whole favourable; some were
serious, and even grateful; two were humorous, one was in rhyme, and
another conveyed the information that "Anthony, i.e. 'Smiler,' was
capable and trustworthy, very inquisitive, vain, and a great talker,
and that the writer would not be willing to buy him at his own price,
and sell him at market value."
"All right, Anthony," said Mallender, as he returned the precious
documents, "Colonel Tallboys knows you, and that is the main thing."
"Oh, yes, saar, and _I_ know the Colonel, since I was a _chokra_, and
can speak plenty well of him. That very good gentlemans, all servants
liking him; though very quick, quick, quick, and particular; getting
always all shirts washed in England--three dozen going, three dozen
coming, three dozen wearing!"
"That will do, that will do," sternly interrupted his new master.
"Don't _talk_. I am going to Guindy to-morrow early, call me at five
sharp, and order the car for half-past," and Anthony was temporarily
silenced, and suppressed.
The hint of the General's premature arrival accelerated Mallender's
movements. He was the very first to appear in the vast drawing-room,
and had now an opportunity of making a leisurely survey of its
contents. He did not fail to notice the great chunam pillars--gleaming
like white marble--the polished teak floors, Eastern rugs, carefully
placed screens, and profusion of delicately scented flowers; the whole
atmosphere exhaled a cultivated taste, and subdued magnificence.
What particularly struck the stranger was the accumulation of old
furniture; objects he recognised from seeing their counterparts
in great houses--or indeed in a lesser degree, his own. Here were
chairs, mirrors, settees, and cabinets--enclosing curiosities and old
china. Mallender was no judge, but realised that he was surrounded by
many rare and valuable treasures, and was in the act of examining a
cabinet, when he caught the sound of soft rustling, a light footstep,
and turning about saw his hostess approaching. She carried herself
well, and wore a pale yellow gown, with diamonds shining in her dark
hair. Who would recognise in this dignified matron, the Fanny Bond of
Martello Terrace, Tranmere?
"Oh, so you are the first!" she exclaimed. "This _is_ nice--I'm so
glad, for now we can have a little talk before the crowd arrive."
Mrs. Tallboys was sincerely pleased with Fred's cousin--a handsome
young fellow with easy manners, and a pleasant manly voice. There was
something chivalrous in his air, as well as his amazing enterprise; how
well he looked in admirably cut evening clothes!
"Come and sit by me on this sofa," indicating a place, "and let us get
to know one another better."
As he accepted her invitation, she added with a significant smile:
"Fred has told me all about you: I am quite what is called 'in the
know,' and I can keep a secret."
"What do you think of my venture?" he enquired.
"It's the most generous and romantic I've ever known, resembling,
though in a different spirit, the impulse that carried the flower
of England to the Crusades; but I'm afraid you will have the same
ending--failure."
"Ah, I'm sorry to see you won't encourage me, Mrs. Tallboys."
"You are to call me Fanny; you and Fred are cousins, and cousins hold
on to one another out here. Now I want to tell you, that as long as you
are in India you are to look upon our house as your head-quarters--and
home."
"Oh, thank you--you are most awfully kind, but I must not settle down
to enjoy myself, until I've accomplished what you call my crusade."
"At any rate, you need not embark yet awhile! Surely you can spare us
a few weeks?" Then diplomatically changing the subject, "I saw you
looking at my china and curios!"
"Yes, I'm no judge, but you seem to have a wonderful collection."
"You will call it more wonderful still, when you hear that every object
you see--they are all dear to me--has been picked up in the Madras
Presidency! Oh, yes, you may well stare; and now I'll tell you all
about it. Once upon a time--say a hundred and fifty years ago, and even
before then--furniture and household goods were imported from England,
France, and Holland, by merchants, nabobs, or military adventurers--all
more or less rich. As time advanced, those palmy days passed, and the
Victorian Age dawned; old, so-called 'rubbish' went out of fashion and
fell into disgrace. The new craze had not set in thirty years ago, and
you could pick up treasures that it makes my mouth water to think of,
in the thieving bazaar, or at Franck's auction rooms in the Mount Road."
"Yes, but you were not here thirty years ago--you were in a
perambulator," objected her listener.
"No," she corrected, "a pigtail! I am forty-two. However, Fred was on
the spot; even as a young sub. he had a taste for old things. He was
well laughed at and called a muff, and an old woman, but he had quite a
nice little collection, when _I_ came on the scene. That lovely Empire
couch, he rescued from being chopped up for firewood--the poor thing
had only two legs. The Chippendale chairs, he routed out of a mouldy
old bungalow on the top of Palaveram Hill. I discovered that charming
satinwood table, in a _dirzee's_ shop of Blacktown; some of the
furniture has made journeys all over the Presidency on bullock-carts
when regiments were on the move, and has been battered and cracked and
auctioned over and over again, for nearly two centuries!"
"Then I wonder there is a stick left!" exclaimed Mallender.
"Well, yes; of course, some invaluable treasures have gone to boil
cooltie, or gram, but many fine seasoned travellers still survive. My
collection is my craze, my chief weakness, and my tongue once started
cannot stop; every bit has its own history. Those Sèvres vases I bought
from a Toda in the Hills; that ugly gilt jar in the same cabinet, I
purchased as an act of charity from a beggar, a poor Eurasian woman,
and gave her twenty rupees--believing it was brass. Long afterwards
it turned out to be solid gold--a bit of loot from Seringapatam. I
tried to trace the woman, but she had disappeared. That priceless vase
of 'Sang de Bœuf' held pipe-clay in my back verandah! The exquisite
dessert service you will eat off to-night, I unearthed at the back
of Hadji Kareem's shop in Bangalore, smothered under years of dust,
and I'd be _ashamed_ to tell you what I paid for it! I have also a
marvellous talisman--oh! I think I hear a motor! Would you mind turning
on the light in the big chandelier--another find--tell you about it
afterwards. I only have it lit at the last moment, as I cannot endure
the glare."
Mallender rose to obey, and the splendid old French piece instantly
burst into a blaze that flooded the entire room, and seemed to
appropriately herald the approach of a dark-eyed lady, wearing a
shimmering gown of blue and silver, and a long rope of pearls--who thus
made an involuntary, but impressive stage entrance.
For a moment she halted, and put her hand to her eyes, then murmured
with a plaintive smile:
"I declare I am quite dazzled!"
"So are we!" responded Mrs. Tallboys with flattering significance.
"Lena, let me introduce Captain Mallender; Geoffrey, this is my old
friend Mrs. Villars, who is spending the cold weather with us. You are
to take her in to dinner--your seats are on the left."
Here the arrival of the General, his wife and his A.D.C., cut short
further explanation. The remainder of the company rapidly poured in,
and as Mallender stood by his partner watching the crowd, he was
struck by the elegance of the ladies' frocks, their fashionable air,
and their diamonds; among men, the military element predominated; from
the General's scarlet and bemedalled coat, to uniforms of sombre rifle
green or gorgeous Indian cavalry--altogether a gay and goodly gathering.
When the very last couple had overwhelmed their hostess with apologies,
a tall turbaned butler, picturesque in white and gold, entered, and
with a profound salaam announced:
"Dinner is served!"