Two or three times a week, Mrs. Bourne and her young friends mounted
their ponies, and went for extensive excursions in the neighbourhood.
Mallender rode a stout brown cobby animal from Bonagherry, known as
"The Duffer," the lady of Kartairi, a well-bred chestnut who had
played polo, and Barbie, a wiry flea-bitten grey, whose propensity for
thieving, and agility in climbing, had earned for her the name of "The
Cat." Kartairi stood amid what might be termed a sea of coffee bushes,
extending for many acres; at first, the little party were obliged to
ride along the narrow coolie tracks in Indian file; they had also to
pass through that deplorable spectacle, an abandoned estate. Here the
land was overrun with a climbing prickly plant, the desolate bungalow
was dismantled, and the pulping-house a ruin--all this, to the credit
of the planter's deadly enemy the "Borer" Worm.
Emerging at last from among lucent green bushes, the riders came by
degrees upon grassy uplands, and the great silent spaces, which are
bounded by the Western Ghauts. Here were glades, downs, and clumps of
trees recalling English parks; and in the cool clear air, the little
party enjoyed many a delightful and invigorating gallop.
Once the riders made their way into another country, and a warm and
steamy climate; descending by break-neck paths, and wet sedgy glades,
dropping cautiously from terrace to terrace into the rich forest lands
above Canara, and avoiding with care "the special reserve"--a peculiar
feature of the West; sacred groves dedicated to the ancestral gods,
into which the foot of shikari, woodman or herdsman may not penetrate.
The ancestral gods are supposed to hunt in these regions, and woe
betide the luckless mortal who encounters them! Owing to the rainfall,
the extraordinarily luxuriant growth in this part of the world must
be seen to be realised. Bamboos of enormous size, great teak trees,
with their glossy leaves, gigantic plantains, sandal wood, and the
sago palm, flourish here in wildest profusion. As for flowers, the
riders found themselves in a fairy garden, amid a wealth of blooms and
perfumes, undreamt of in colder climes; their ponies' hoofs ruthlessly
trampled on lilies, begonias, orchids, and maiden hair, and pressing
along the narrow game tracks, thrust themselves between masses of
convolvuli, and sweet flowering shrubs. In the warm scented atmosphere
the perfume of the "Niddo" was almost overpowering.
From several directions the most promising vistas were unapproachable,
owing to the density of the thorny undergrowth, and tangled ropes of
the flame-coloured "Elephant Creeper," that so to speak held the trees
of the forest in a bondage of flowers.
"The old Portuguese were well acquainted with this part of the world,"
remarked Mrs. Bourne, as she halted to feast her eyes on a riot of
contrasting colours.
"No wonder they called it 'The Gorgeous East.'"
"No wonder, indeed!" assented Mallender.
"This paradise, however, has its serpent," she continued. "I don't
allude to the cobras among the bamboos, nor even the tiger, and
leopards, that abound in the reserves,--but the terror of these
forests, is--the _leech_!"
"I'd much sooner face thousands of leeches, than one leopard," declared
Barbie.
"Yes, so would I; but you have no idea how those abominations can drain
the lives of man and beast--there are half a dozen on The Cat's legs,
at this moment!"
Mallender instantly sprang off, to the rescue of The Cat.
"The only method is this," said the provident matron, handing him as
she spoke a little parcel of salt, "I always carry it, when I come
down into these regions, and I never remain long. I only wish we
could; for of an evening, the fire-flies are a wonder to behold, their
illuminations, incredibly magnificent--but we must be going."
"I think, I'd trust the fire-flies to my imagination," said Barbie,
"although this is the most marvellous, dreamland, sort of place I've
ever seen!"
"Yes, a real tropical forest; and the vegetation is even more dense and
splendid in the reserves."
"How I should like to have a day's shooting in one of them," said
Geoffrey, "I daresay I'd get a brace of tiger, an elephant, and a
bison."
"You'd also get into frightful trouble with the Government; even
supposing the wild beasts let you off! The sacred groves _are_ sacred!"
"It makes one think of the Old Testament," said Barbie, "of Baal, and
sacrifices, groves, and high places."
"Yes, and they are held in the same superstitious veneration. A small
portion of Lewis MacKenzie's estate encroaches on one of these holy
places called 'Devera-Rudu,' and he has to pay a heavy indemnity. I
believe there is no doubt, that not so very long ago these groves were
the scenes of human sacrifices--even now, it is whispered that horrors
take place in out-of-the-way holes and corners, under the cloak of
fanaticism and secrecy."
"But what about the long arm of the law, and the police?" enquired
Mallender.
"Oh, the police cannot have their eyes everywhere, certainly not in
the depths of almost impenetrable forests. Some of these sacrifices
are mistaken for murder, or even suicide; of course, I _may_ be
wrong, and these reserves, spotlessly innocent of anything worse than
incantations, devil worship, and black magic."
"I see you have a pretty bad opinion of them!" rejoined Mallender, with
a cheerful laugh.
"They look harmless enough, and what a glorious show of forest trees
and jungle. I only wish I could get a 'permit' to shoot and I'd face
anything, from wild dogs, to black magic!"
Occasionally the riding party was augmented by one or two neighbours,
and tiffin or tea was despatched to some favourite rendezvous.
On a certain lovely afternoon, arrangements were made for a meeting
at a celebrated spot, known as "The Window in the West," there to
admire the prospect, subsequently enjoy a cold repast, and ride home
by the light of a full moon. The Window of the West was sixteen miles
from Kartairi, through oceans of luxuriant coffee, deep valleys, and
dense sholahs, by narrow winding paths, ending in a long precipitous
ascent--and then the view!
"It is well worth while," declared Mrs. Bourne, "though I must confess,
I have only twice made this excursion; it's such an abominably bad
road. When you reach a certain point, you arrive at an abrupt break
in the mountains and look sheer down upon the plains, stretching away
to the Indian Ocean. Coming out of a tangle of high rocks, ravines,
and jungle, this view of the sea--is so sudden and _unexpected_, that
for a moment it takes your breath away! You feel positively startled,
and as if it was a sight you had _never_ seen before. Humboldt, the
traveller, who visited many lands, considered the prospect from
MacCourty's Peak,--which is similar to our 'Window'--the finest in all
the Universe, and I believe he is right."
"But what of the Himalayas?" questioned Mallender, "and the glories of
the snows?"
"Oh, yes, I know; I've seen them from Darjeeling--the 'Roof of the
World.' They are mighty, majestic, and overwhelming; but so aloof, and
frozen, you cannot approach within forty miles of their footstool--they
are almost as inaccessible as the stars! Here in Old Madras, in the
midst of our soft blue mountains, you enter upon a land of sun and
enchantment, you take your stand upon a carpet of flowers, and gaze
across tropical forests, and rolling plains, to the far-away glittering
sea! I remember the first time _I_ looked out of the 'Window,'--I
actually cried. Perhaps because the ocean lying within view, drew my
thoughts towards home, and England--perhaps, because I seemed to catch
a glimpse of Heaven!"
In a steep zig-zag path resembling a dried watercourse, Mrs. Bourne's
pony cast a shoe. This was indeed a calamity, for Ibex had brittle
hoofs, and had lost a fore shoe, such bad luck, and yet owing to this
circumstance, the fate of Geoffrey and Barbie received a little push!
"It's a good two miles to the 'Window'--I dare not try it, unless I
walk," said Mrs. Bourne, "the last bit is ghastly; so I'll just stop
here, waylay the coolies, and make preparations for supper. I expect
you will find Mr. Mack, and the Kennedys, and young Reekie, there
before you. Of course, Barbie, you and Captain Mallender are to go on."
"What! and leave you here, all alone," objected Mallender, "certainly
not."
"I'm not afraid; it's not the tiger season, and anyway, he'd take the
pony first. Come, come, good people, don't waste time--the sun sets in
half an hour."
"I intend to stay with you," said Barbie, "and we can take turns on The
Cat, riding home."
"Be off at once, Barbie,", urged her friend authoritatively, "you had
better ride up as far as possible, and Captain Mallender can leave The
Duffer here, with the syce; if you go now, you will just be in time for
the sunset,--and see it sinking into the sea."
So Barbie departed, escorted by Mallender. It proved a rugged climb,
through slippery mossy rocks, tree roots, and shale. At last, quite
suddenly, they arrived at a space, and stood as it were at the open
casement of some high castle.
Barbie had dismounted from her pony, and the two remained momentarily
transfixed, gazing on the evergreen forests which clothed the long roll
downwards, to the undulating teeming plains; steeped in all the glamour
of the tropics, a world of absolute peace and plenty lay at their feet.
Beyond the plains, shimmering in the sunset, shone the sea: over all,
there was a peculiar quality, which is best described as radiance, and
the scene, the atmosphere, and spirit of the ocean, seemed somehow to
grip one's heart.
Mallender continued to gaze for a long time in silence. It was the girl
who spoke first.
"How wonderful! how exquisite! It's like the setting of a fairy-tale.
It makes one feel----" she hesitated in search of an appropriate
expression.
"And it makes one _think_," he supplemented.
"I believe I could guess your thoughts."
"Do, if you can," turning to her.
"As you looked at the sea, you felt a great, great, great longing to go
home."
"I was watching that little black speck of a steamer, and I confess I'd
like to go, for some reasons, in fact, I must go soon."
"Yes, and Mrs. Bourne has taken her passage for March, so as to be in
time for the boys' Easter holidays."
"And you, Miss Miller?"
"Oh, as for me," striving to speak cheerfully, "I shall never see
England again."
"But why not?"
"I have no home there; my mother has disowned me."
Mallender looked at Barbie the homeless; noticed her delicate
profile, clear-cut against the sky, the sunlight catching the light
in her loosened hair, the little sad, wistful mouth, the tears on
her eyelashes; looked and cast all prudence figuratively out of the
"Window," and to the four winds!
It was true that she had no home, nor had he. Well, all the same, he
would ask her to share his life.
"Look here, Miss Miller--Barbie----" he began impulsively, "suppose you
come home with me--or--or--if you will wait, I'll return, and make you
a home out here."
"But I," growing very red, "don't understand."
"Of course, as usual, I'm a blundering ass, I am asking you to marry
me."
Barbie was conscious of the quick throbbing of her heart, and a minute
of silence stretched itself out into what seemed to Mallender an
interminable period. At last she said:
"You are not in earnest?"
"I swear I am, and in deadly earnest. Barbie, my little Barbie, you
don't know how I love you; or how desperately hard I have found it to
hold my tongue. I thought I ought to wait, till I'd some sort of home
to offer you; but whether it is seeing the sea again, or seeing your
tears, or what--I've _had_ to speak!"
Here the uninterested "Cat," anxiously desiring to graze, and bored by
this talk, wrenched herself violently away.
"Of course," chucking the animal's head, "I'm not much of a chap. I've
made an awful muddle of my affairs, and I'm hideously poor. Just now,
I've no money."
"But I like you so much better without it," was Barbie's startling
declaration.
"Oh, come, that's encouraging, but why?"
"When you were rich, you never took any notice of me,--till the day you
picked me up on the _maidan_. You were always a sort of lofty glorified
individual, who was a favourite at Government House, barred girls,
and----"
"But, I say," he interrupted, "what a frightful accusation! I spotted
you the very first night I dined at Fred's. You ask Nancy Brander;
she told me you were engaged. That naturally put me off; and then
afterwards, you know, you gave me the cold shoulder, didn't you?"
"Yes--I suppose I did," she admitted.
"And now," and he drew a long breath, "now I am asking you to give me
yourself; it's a tall order, I know."
Barbie made no reply, but something more radiant than the afterglow
flooded her soul, and filled her eyes with happy tears. From the
first, she had felt irresistibly drawn to this young man, who stood
before her bareheaded; and she asked no greater gift than that in him
she might find a lover and a husband. Golden silence can be eloquent!
Barbie's charming, expressive face spoke for her, and Mallender drew
her unresisting towards him. Was anything in life comparable to the
exquisite happiness of the moment, when her lips met his?
For an instant they stood hand in hand, and in expressive and rapturous
silence. The whole thing was like a heavenly dream, from which however
they were rudely aroused, by the sound of grumbling voices, scrambling
feet, and scattering stones. In another moment Mr. MacKenzie and his
young apprentice, Andrew Reekie (a merry-eyed Army failure, whose
sunburnt face and violently red hair, had earned him the name of "the
Blood Orange") were with them.
"So here you are!" gasped MacKenzie, as he took off his hat, and
mopped his hot face, "by Jove, it's a stiff pull!--grand scene,
though, grand!" as his eyes roved over the wonderful panorama, that
fell from their feet; the teeming forests, the masses of palms, and
thickets of bamboos. The sun was sinking into the west, and a rose and
gold afterglow was reflected in the shining sea with indescribable
effulgence.
"Yes," added MacKenzie when he had recovered his breath, "this view
would take a good bit of beating. I wish the 'Window' was in Scotland,
I'd run the show for tourists, and make a fortune! Hullo, where's
Mallender gone to?"
"I think, to catch my pony, she has strayed away," said Barbie.
"Strayed away," repeated MacKenzie. "I'm afraid you were not looking
after her, Miss Miller, too much taken up with the view, eh?"
"Yes, I confess I forgot all about her," was her truthful answer,
"but The Cat is such a cunning creature; she knows how to take care
of herself. Ah, I see she has been captured," as Mallender emerged,
triumphantly leading an aggrieved animal, with her mouth full of
succulent green food.
"Perhaps we had better be moving," suggested MacKenzie, "Mrs. Bourne
gave us three-quarters of an hour to get here, and back to supper, and
I think we shall just about do it! Of course, you won't ride down, Miss
Miller; it's bad going, like broken stairs--Mallender can look after
The Cat, and I'll take care of _you_."
The cold supper in a dell, lit by the moon, proved a right merry
meal; the syces and servants had made a big fire, boiled the kettle,
and under Mrs. Bourne's directions, spread a substantial repast on a
table-cloth on the moss. Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy arriving rather late, had
shirked the last two miles, and kept her company. They were a cheery
young Irish couple, who always made an affair go off.
As from afar they descried Barbie and her escort, in the van of the
sight-seers, Mrs. Kennedy remarked:
"I'm thinking, you'll be having a wedding at Kartairi, before long,
Mrs. Bourne."
"Do you say so--who?"
"Is it who? Why, little Miss Miller and Mack, to be sure! He is a rich
man by all accounts, and you will have to be looking round for another
lady-help."
"Faith, and Mrs. Bourne will look a long time, before she comes across
as pretty a girl as Barbie," said Mr. Kennedy, "the beauty of these
Hills; her complexion would shame a rose!"
"I think you are both talking the greatest nonsense," declared Mrs.
Bourne, who was busily cutting up cold roast guinea-fowl.
"Yes, Paddy is; it's his normal state," asserted his wife with a laugh,
"I don't allow him to rave about other young women, and I shall give
him six nice little strokes of my whip when I have him to myself at
home--not that I don't agree with him about Barbie!"
The supper-party broke up about eight o'clock, and the revellers set
out for the fourteen-mile ride. Mrs. Bourne mounted Geoffrey's pony,
Ibex was led by a syce, and "The Blood Orange" and Geoffrey, took it
in turns to ride the latter's hairy slave. Taking advantage of some
discussion, argument, and the consequent delay, Mr. MacKenzie (always
king of his company) led off with Barbie. He appeared to think, that
owing to his standing and weight in the neighbourhood, he had an
undisputed claim to the first place, and choice of partners.
Geoffrey looked after the pair, as they gradually disappeared into
a steep valley. Well, it did not matter if Mack rode a few miles in
the moonlight with Barbie,--though he sincerely wished himself in his
place. Barbie was pledged to _him_.
The poor girl had a truly anxious and uncomfortable ride, and found
extreme difficulty in warding off, and eluding, a second proposal
within a couple of hours. Over and over again, the conversation became
personal; and on each occasion, she called her woman's wit to her
assistance, and guided the subject into generalities. Finally being at
the end of her resources, the deceitful little creature pleaded such
toothache, that she could not talk, and Mack more than ever in love,
and impressed by her maidenly diffidence, reserved his declaration for
a future occasion. How little he dreamt, that the girl's whole heart
and thoughts were with the man he had nicknamed "the loafer," who was
leading a lame pony a mile or two in their rear.
Mrs. Bourne received from Barbie the surpassing news, almost before she
had time to change from her habit,--and strange to say, exhibited no
surprise whatever.
"I like him very much, dear," she said, as she embraced her, "and you
will, I believe, both be happy. My little Barbie will make a capital
wife for a poor man!"
For the next few evenings, there was more conversation than music;
plans were exhaustively discussed, coffee estates, crops, and furniture
took the place of the most thrilling news of the day. There was also a
certain amount of sitting _tête-à-tête_ in the verandah, overlooking
the moon-flooded estate, whilst kind Mrs. Bourne, wrote letters
indoors, and made detailed arrangements for a trip to Madras, and
home. These were evenings of beautiful happenings, magnificent castle
building, close sympathies, and the thrill of touching hands.
The air was pure and cool, the nights were so still, that the whole
world seemed to be at rest, not a sound disturbed the deep silence, but
two young voices.
"I think you are _very_ brave, Barbie," said Mallender, "you know, we
shall be paupers!"
"Yes, and Mrs. Bourne says I shall make a splendid wife for a pauper, I
manage so economically, and keep down the ghee, and charcoal. The cook
is quite _afraid_ of me!"
Her fiancé burst into a derisive laugh. "As if any man, woman or child,
would be afraid of _you_! I'll work tremendously hard, and take that
little estate Tom recommends, and we will have a jolly life, keep a
couple of ponies, lots of dogs, and run down to Bangalore in the slack
time. How will that be?"
"Delightful. I see, you have thought it all out!"
"Why not? We have no one to please, but ourselves--you have no consent
to ask for, nor have I. Of course, I'll tell Fan and Fred. I know he
adores you, partly I think--because you never gave Naughty Mary a sore
back! You shall go and interview him, and melt his heart, and ask him
to give you away?"
"If he were to see your scarred head, and thin sunken cheeks, that
would be far more likely to touch him."
"Well, the Beamishes return in a few days, and I'll beard him when I go
down to make arrangements for my run home. It will be awfully hard to
leave you behind, Barbie."
"Yes; but I always think the one who is left has the worst of it!"
"No, no, no. However, hang it all, we are not going to grouse--three
months will soon go by, and I shall be back before Mrs. Bourne starts,
and take you over, Barbie, with _all_ your liabilities."
These much-discussed plans of the young couple, were presently upset by
a letter to Mallender, which said:
"DEAR SIR,
"We are writing to request you to come to Madras immediately. If
you can make it convenient to arrive by the mail at four o'clock on
Tuesday next, the 11th inst., you will there be met by a messenger,
and hear of something greatly to your advantage.
"We remain, dear Sir,
"Yours faithfully,
"BROWN, BROWN AND CO."
"Just look at this!" said Mallender tossing it to Barbie, "the same
old bait; but I'm not going to be had this time! I've been made a fool
of too often, and you will not be surprised to hear, that I feel a
pardonable misgiving. The burnt child dreads the fire!"
"But this is not from Jaffer," protested Barbie, "I see it is from
Brown and Brown. I believe it is '_pucka_'--and you are going to hear,
or to see,--something at last!"
"Not I!"
"May I?" and Mrs. Bourne extended a hand. After glancing at the note,
she said:
"Barbie is right, I am sure this won't be an April Fool's errand. I
think you will have to go."
"But if I do, I must start to-morrow!" he protested.
"How I wish I might go too!" said Barbie, "I feel certain, that
something tremendous is about to happen."
"Something tremendous _will_ happen, if you don't see to the churning,
Barbie. I must get as much work out of you as I can, dear, as I'm
afraid I won't have you this time next year!"
"Next year!" echoed Mallender, "not likely! Long before that, Barbie
will be making butter for _me_."
"And as for you, young man, you are to take the grey pony, and ride
over to Sarma, and send a wire to say you arrive in Madras on Tuesday,
without fail."
And in this imperious and high-handed fashion, Mrs. Bourne disposed of
the happy couple in opposite directions.