His Aunt's offer of the splendid Panhard was not accepted by Geoffrey;
he preferred to depart on foot, realising that after his recent
experience, he must get away alone, into some quiet retreat, there to
steady his mind, and nerves. As he descended the steps, even in the dim
ill-lighted premises, he received the impression of an atmosphere of
wealth, extravagance, and a certain amount of slackness, secrecy, and
state; moreover an establishment crowded with retainers. The servants'
liveries were gorgeous, the massive ill-trimmed hanging lamps, of
beaten silver, splendid Persian rugs were carelessly strewn on the
flagged portico, and that curious smell, beyond analysis, that belongs
to the East hung in the air. From the rear, came the bitter pungent
odour of wood fires, cooking the evening meal, the cries of children,
the shrill whinny of horses. What, Mallender asked himself, was _he_
doing in this native _milieu_? He seemed to be under some spell of
unreality! Still walking as in a dream, he passed through a group of
salaaming peons, into the dark overgrown avenue. There he encountered
many vague stealthy figures, going or coming, and was presently
overtaken by three men; mounted Sowars, on fine horses, who clattered
by, in haste,--evidently bound on some important errand. Arrived once
more at the shabby entrance he halted, and looked about, standing out
of the traffic, under the shade of a great tamarind tree. As yet, he
could not bring himself to face his next door relatives, or enter their
well-ordered, well-illuminated English home; the contrast was so sharp
between the household of his Uncle, and his cousin--that even to think
of it made him flinch.
For nearly an hour, he slowly paced the dusty road; enclosed within
high walls which lay between two entrances; where one, his nearest
relative lived, cut off from his own people, surrounded by mystery and
natives; whilst the other, great garden house, was no doubt as usual,
overflowing with gay, appreciative guests, the cream of Madras society.
As he strolled along, his hands in his pockets, his eyes on the
ground, he was haunted by the face of his Uncle; that awful mutilated
countenance, with its jagged mouth, and wild bare eyeballs; he
shuddered more than once, that warm still evening, and tried to thrust
the hideous memory from his mental vision. Had such a fate overtaken
him, how would he have borne it? He could not, would not, survive--no,
even Barbie should not prevail. He endeavoured to put himself into his
Uncle's place,--as a young man of his own age and profession, full
of life, energy and expectation, suddenly shut out from his kindred,
friends, and nation. Left alone, to struggle as best he might, with an
absolutely hopeless future; abandoned to an existence of isolation and
pretence. Why, why, should fate exact through years of misery, such
remorseless punishment, for _one_ folly?
Undoubtedly Alida represented some mitigation of the sentence; but a
woman of another race and outlook. No doubt, she had been an angel of
mercy, yet could even Alida replace a wasted youth?--a lost world?
Those first years must have represented the torment of Hades! they made
Mallender think of quivering flesh, and a fiery furnace, of a blind
lark in a tiny cage, of a starving old thoroughbred in a cheap coal
cart.
What could _he_ do to relieve a miserable existence? Yet if his Uncle
were to be believed, he had already--if unconsciously--contributed a
certain amount of interest and amusement to brighten some dark days.
Doubtless sensibilities become deadened by time--for to a man of
eight-and-twenty, thirty years seem an age;--perhaps his Uncle was
right to stick to India, and a disguise, since Mallender of the Blue
Hussars could never reclaim his former identity. It was close on eight
o'clock, when Geoffrey at last gathered his forces together, and turned
towards Hooper's Gardens. Here was a wide trim enclosure, guiltless of
jungle, cattle, or even goats, an admirably kept well-lighted "Europe"
establishment, from whence came the faint sounds of a piano, and a
woman's voice.
Under the portico, the stout and stately butler received the visitor
with a beaming countenance; possibly this was an indication of
gratitude for past generosity--possibly, merely a token of welcome and
good-will. This particular young man was well spoken of in the go-downs.
Mallender ran up the steps, into the familiar verandah, and immediately
came face to face with Nancy Brander in evening dress.
"Geoffrey!" she exclaimed, lifting her hands in astonishment. "Oh, my
dear boy, how thankful I am to see you again!"
"The same to you," he answered gravely.
"We have been in _such_ misery about you. When Fred saw that notice
in the papers, he was utterly crushed; he blames himself for
everything--for allowing you, a mere innocent, to go off alone. He
says he should never have let you out of his sight,--even if he had to
accompany you, and take _Fanny_! Where have you come from?"
"A coffee estate in Mysore. I'm all right now. I suppose the house is
crammed as usual?"
"No, indeed, we are alone. Fan and Fred are in no spirits for company,
they wired for me, and I arrived two days ago. Tom says I live here;
but on this occasion, my visit lies at your door!"
"Nancy, Nan!" came a voice from within, "who are you talking to out
there? Why don't you bring them in?"
"I must break it gently," she whispered. "Shall I go first, and prepare
them?"
"Do, do," he urged, and stood aside, as she swept into the drawing-room.
Freddy was sitting near a lamp, pince-nez on nose, holding a paper in a
limp hand. Fan was knitting with an abstracted air. They looked up when
Nancy entered.
"My dear people, I bring you good news," she proclaimed, "very good
news! Geoffrey is all right--he is coming!" They had both risen to
their feet, when she added, "He is here!"
Knitting and paper were hastily discarded, as the prodigal nephew
followed his herald into the drawing-room. His welcome was rapturous;
what a scene for the stage! Freddy nearly dragged his arm off. Fanny
sobbed and shed happy tears, but the many things she would have
uttered, choked in her throat.
"A nice fright you gave us, my boy!" said his cousin blowing his nose,
"that note in the _Royàpetta Star_--you see, we had not had news for
months--my fault! my fault! and when I saw this, I telegraphed off to
General Beamish, but got no reply; though I wired three times, answer
prepaid; then I tried the postmaster, and he said you were dead."
"He mixed us up," said Geoffrey, "General Beamish is dead,--he died a
month ago."
"Yes, so we heard to-day, and that you had been taken away somewhere."
"You are all right again, are you, Geoffrey?" asked Fanny, as she
scanned him critically. She, like her next door neighbour, the Coorg
Princess, noticed that he looked thin, haggard, and shabby, in
comparison to the Geoffrey of old days.
"You want feeding up, that I can see," she remarked with emphasis,
"eggs and milk,--and early hours."
"There's dinner," exclaimed her husband, "come along with me, Geoffrey,
and wash your hands in my room; your own will be ready in a brace of
shakes. Where's your luggage?"
"I've very little, but that's at the station, most of my kit is still
here."
"That's all right. Anthony can get it out, and unpack."
"Oh, I did not bring him down with me, but I'll wire for him to-morrow."
(He had left Anthony at Kartairi by the advice of Mrs. Bourne, who said:
"I believe that you will come to the end of the mystery this time, and
if so, you don't want to take the whole bazaar into your confidence. I
am aware of Smiler's good qualities--but I would not trust him with a
family secret, till you know all about it first.")
"I expect you are starving," said Fan to Geoffrey, as he entered, and
occupied his old place.
"Yes, famishing. I had breakfast at ten o'clock at Jollapett."
"Then you must have got in at four!" said Nancy, "But why didn't
you come up at once?--where have you been?" In Geoffrey's opinion
this was Nancy's one shortcoming, her mental eye was extraordinarily
penetrating,--she was much _too_ sharp.
"I had some business to attend to. I'll tell you all about it
afterwards," and the traveller glanced significantly at the eager-eyed
attendants, who were as anxious to hear Captain Mallender's news, as
any of the company. Why all this bobbery and trouble, and coming and
going? What had he been doing? they asked one another, and there was
unfortunately no Anthony to set their minds at rest.
"We are a small party," said Colonel Tallboys, "we had invited a lot of
people, but we put them off."
"Any of last year's lot?"
"No, Sir William and Lady Bream are at home," said Fanny, "he has
just bought a place in the country, miles from everywhere, which she
loathes, poor dear! She wants a house in Mayfair, and a smart villa at
Roque-Brune."
"I have made some discoveries about Lady Bream," announced Geoffrey,
"she is the grand-daughter of old General Beamish, and was your
school-fellow, Fan. It, excuse me,--seems incredible!"
"Yes," replied Fred, "didn't I keep the secret well. I wonder what
Bream will say, when he learns the sum-total of her age, and debts!"
"As for her debts, he may possibly hear the truth," said her
school-fellow, "but Lena is so ridiculously sensitive about her age.
She likes to pass for eight-and-twenty, and would not reveal that she
was forty-two last October--no, not if she were agonising on the rack!"
"Oh, well, everyone is the age she looks," said Nancy cheerily. "Our
dear friends, the Wylies, who were here with you, Geoffrey, are now in
Japan, the guests of an American millionaire."
"I'm not interested in the Wylies," said Mallender, "I hope I may never
come across them again."
"You will--if you ever become rich, they will both be devoted to you!"
"I need hardly tell you, that I'm dying to hear all your adventures,"
said Fan. "We have not seen you for eight whole months."
"No, and I've lots to tell you, important news too, but I'll wait, if I
may, till we are in the smoking-room, with no audience."
"Meanwhile, I am on pins and needles," said Nancy, "and my imagination
is filling in the most wonderful adventures and scenes."
"I saw some wonderful scenes when I was up in Coorg, and Mysore," and
the traveller proceeded to give brief descriptions of his excursions,
and experiences--omitting, however, all mention of Panjeverram, as he
had no desire to bring Major Rochfort's past into the supremely happy
present.
"You were somewhere near Madras once," said Colonel Tallboys, "for
Proudfoot saw you, several times."
"Yes, I was after, what turned out to be a mare's nest!"
"I suppose you heard in the Hills of our anxiety and enquiries, and
came down at once, like the good fellow you are?"
"Ye-e-s--that is to say, I had to come anyway."
"Oh, the usual thing, I suppose, eh?" said his cousin with a sly smile.
"The usual thing," repeated Geoffrey, but instead of a smile, a
momentary spasm crossed his face.
"Now do begin at once, and open the budget," urged Fanny, when they had
all disposed themselves comfortably in the smoking-room, and the butler
had withdrawn, bearing the empty coffee cups. Mallender had not found
himself a seat, but walked about restlessly, with an unlighted cigar
between his fingers. At last, he came to a standstill before Fanny, and
said:
"Well, my first piece of news is, that I am going to marry Barbie
Miller!"
"Barbie!" echoed Mrs. Tallboys, then after a moment's pause, "Oh, my
dear boy, I am so glad, so glad!" and she rose from her chair, and
embraced him.
"I would follow suit," said Nancy putting down her cigarette, "and kiss
you too, but Barbie might not like it."
"I call it a very sound choice," said Colonel Tallboys, "and I
congratulate you, my boy. Yes, though there's no money, and a terrible
mother, Barbie is the nicest little girl I know, what hair, and what
hands!"
"I never noticed her hands," said Nancy, "_I_ always look at feet, she
has such pretty feet!"
"Hands, on a horse's mouth."
"But," resumed Nancy, sitting very erect, "I thought----"
"Yes, yes, I know," interrupted Mallender precipitately, "that's all
right now."
"Nothing like beginning, or going on, with a little aversion?"
"There was no aversion on either side. I admired Barbie from the first
moment I saw her."
"So did I. I was always fond of her, she is a darling; but oh, my poor
Geoffrey, have you thought of your mother-in-law?"
"No, and I am not going to think of her!"
"Is anything settled?" inquired Fanny, the matchmaker.
"Mrs. Bourne and Barbie are coming down next week, and something will
be arranged then."
"They stay here, of course," promptly put in Colonel Tallboys. "Fanny,
you will write at once."
Geoffrey, who had taken another turn round the room, again came to a
halt, and said:
"There is something else I have to tell you." After a momentary pause,
he added:
"I have found my Uncle."
"God bless me, you don't say so!" ejaculated Colonel Tallboys, leaning
both hands on the arms of his chair, and rising slowly to his feet.
"You have found him," echoed Nancy, "then Peary must hide his
diminished head!"
"Where is he? Why does he conceal himself?" demanded Colonel Tallboys
excitedly.
To this double-barrelled question, Geoffrey at first made no reply,
then he said, "That is his secret, and one which I am bound to respect."
"There's no disgraceful element in the matter?"
"None. But please don't question me, for I can tell you nothing."
"I think it remarkably strange, that _I_ am to be kept in the dark,"
said Colonel Tallboys speaking with a pink complexion, and rising
temper. "How is he? At least I suppose you may answer _that_. Is he
much changed--eh?"
"You forget that until lately I had never seen him."
"Yes, that's true. I knew him long ago! Such a smart handsome young
fellow, full of go and enterprise, and very popular. Lord! _how_ I
admired and envied him!"
"I think I may say, that he is fairly well in health, that he will
never leave India, was glad to see me, and to hear I was going to be
married."
"And I am delighted that you have carried out your undertaking," added
Fan, "and not had all your searching and trouble for nothing!"
"On the contrary, my trouble, as you call it, has been rewarded by a
fortune; my Uncle has made Mallender over to me altogether."
"Hurrah! Hurrah!" cried Freddy clapping his hands, and once more
the soul of good-humour. "This is something like news! So you are
actually now, as you stand there, in your shabby serge, and disgraceful
'chuklers'' boots, Mallender of Mallender, with eight thousand a year!"
"Yes, I suppose I am."
"I presume Brown and Co. have arranged everything, and made out the
deeds; if you'd like _me_ to go and look into matters, you know, my
dear boy, you have only to say the word and I am heartily at your
service!"
"Thank you. I believe it's all right, I've not heard any details, but
I'll let you know later on how things stand."
"And so _this_, was your business in Madras, my rich young adventurer?"
"Partly."
"What a match for Barbie!" suddenly exclaimed Nancy, "dear little
simple girl. But only think of Mrs Miller!" she added with a touch of
light-hearted cruelty. "She will be lying in wait for you at Victoria
Station--if she is not arranging the house for your reception at
Mallender, with triumphal arches, and a band."
"Don't mind her, Geoffrey," said his cousin, "she is only trying to
draw you. I should be sorry to think you were not able to grapple with
Mother Miller."
"It is really incredible, what a change a couple of hours can make,"
said Fan. "This evening, I felt so utterly miserable and depressed, I
would have thoroughly enjoyed a good cry; now, only it would be too
remarkable, I'd like to run out into the compound, and _sing_! We must
fill up the house at once, I'll wire first thing to-morrow for Mrs.
Bourne and Barbie. Nan, my dear, we shall have a right merry Christmas!"
"Talking of singing in the compound, and a merry time," said Colonel
Tallboys, who had stepped into the verandah, "I'm blessed if the old
boy next door isn't sending up rockets, and fire balloons!--the best
sort too!--it's worth your while to come out, all of you! There must be
some big Tamasha in his family,--probably a wedding!"