On the same afternoon as Hester was enjoying the many-sided pleasures of
her day at Ennore, Alfred Rayner was stepping from the train at the trim
little railway station of Puranapore. He looked less brisk than
ordinarily, and did not seem disposed to claim the simultaneous
attentions of all the native officials in his usual self-assertive
manner, but stood glancing up and down the platform with an undecided
air. In fact the green flag had been waved, and the train by which he
had arrived had started on its onward way, but still he seemed in no
hurry to proceed. Presently the station-master approached him, and
salaaming, inquired which Dorai he was on his way to visit, no carriage
having appeared from the English cantonment.
Mr. Rayner was in a very uncommunicative mood. He did not disclaim any
purpose of visiting one of the English residents, nor did he indicate
whither he was bound. Suddenly he picked up his bag, for on second
thoughts he had dismissed his dressing-boy at the Madras station, and
strode off on foot, much to the surprise of the station-master, who was
a comparative stranger and did not even know him by sight. The scowling
Hindu ticket-collector quickly enlightened him.
"That's La'yer Rayner that done bobbery about that mosque," he remarked,
and proceeded to denounce the barrister in no flattering terms,
prophesying that he had reappeared to hatch fresh mischief with the
plotting Zynool.
The object of these unfavourable comments was meanwhile making his way
among the narrow crowded streets of the old town, and in one of the
unloveliest of these he stood glancing up at a house, the front aspect
of which was little more than a blank wall, its peeling chunam giving
it a dreary, weather-stained appearance. Its few slits of windows looked
down on the street like pairs of suspicious eyes, and its low door
seemed as if it could not admit anyone of even average stature, though
it gave daily ingress and egress to the ponderous figure of Zynool
Sahib. At this low portal Mr. Rayner stood, tentatively looking up at
the narrow windows.
"Perhaps I should have wired to announce my coming! One never knows
whether an impromptu descent or not is best with these beggars. If I had
warned Zynool, it would only have given him a loophole for escape if he
had a mind for any reason to dodge me. His letter showed he was mad over
his failure to annex that idiot, Cheveril, and he seemed actually to
blame me for it!"
He had ample time for his soliloquy while he waited for a response to
his knock. At length he heard the withdrawing of heavy bolts within and
the door was opened. On his inquiry if Zynool Sahib was at home, a
suspicious-looking servant led him along a dark, narrow passage from
which he passed into a courtyard ablaze with sunshine and gay with
flowering shrubs. In the centre a fountain played and goldfish disported
themselves in its sparkling basin. Rows of windows with leaded panes of
glass looked into the court, some of these were being hurriedly closed
now, though the visitor was able to catch a glimpse of moving forms
within and even of faces peering furtively down upon him.
"The harem, of course," muttered Mr. Rayner, with a scornful smile. "No,
ladies, you need not fear, I'll not peep, I've no wish to anger your
lord and master!"
After a little pause another servant appeared; he was evidently of a
higher grade, for he pushed the other aside rudely, saying:
"Your honour will follow me! The Sahib will see!"
The visitor was led along more passages and finally shown into a large
room furnished entirely after English fashions of an unrefined sort. The
badly stuffed sofa and chairs covered with crimson plush looked most
uninviting. On the floor was spread a crude coloured Brussels carpet,
while lovely Persian rugs lay huddled on the verandah outside. The only
ornament in the room was a huge musical box.
"So this is Zynool's idea of comfort! I wonder what Hester would think
of this," muttered Mr. Rayner, flinging his sun-topee on the garish
plush table-cloth, its neutral colour giving a relieving touch which he
noted almost with comfort as he seated himself on the hard sofa. He had
never before penetrated into Zynool's home, having most frequently
arranged meetings with him in Madras, or, when business necessitated a
visit to Puranapore, Zynool had always directed him to a room near the
railway station which seemed at his disposal.
Presently the heavy curtain at the other end of the room from which he
had entered was pushed aside by a fat brown hand bedecked with sparkling
rings, and the master of the house stood before him, making less
deferential salaam than usual, and with a frown on his face. Rayner also
discerned from a certain flicker of his eyelids which half covered his
beady eyes that Zynool was not in the best of tempers.
"Worse luck for me," he groaned inwardly.
"You give your humble slave one surprise, La'yer Rayner," said Zynool,
licking his coarse red lips, as he disposed his heavy person on the edge
of one of the plush-covered chairs. "No chit, no wire, no nossing!" he
jerked, looking querulously at his visitor as he spoke.
"Upon my word, Zynool, I ought to apologise for my coming upon you in
this unceremonious manner," returned Mr. Rayner, assuming his most
conciliatory tone, "but we're such friends, you and I, I thought I might
risk an impromptu visit. What a beautiful room you have here--quite
English, I declare!"
"Ha, it pleases your Honour then!" said Zynool, visibly brightening.
"This apartment has just been lately furnished all from Oakes & Company,
Madras,--all perfect English--Oakes' man done assure. The carpet too,
is it not a beautee?" he added, casting an admiring glance on the
hideous tints.
"Perfectly lovely--such good taste! A lucky man you are, Sahib, to be
able to order all these things--and to pay for them too!"
Here Mr. Rayner gave an ostentatious sigh which, however, was lost on
his host, who seized the opportunity of giving vent to a rankling
grievance.
"Yes, it was in your humble slave's heart to invite your friend, the new
Assistant-Collector, to come and have coffee in this lovelee English
room, and also to bestow many favours on that young man till he scorned
me in such wise as I made known to your Honour in my chit. I expressed
to your ear how his treatment was like hot charcoal thrown in my face."
"Yes, very ungrateful on Cheveril's part! But you must bear in mind,
Sahib, that he's only a griffin, not an old diplomat like you. You may
find him more promising next time. You and he and I will be drinking
coffee together in this beautiful room, yet--take my word for it," said
Mr. Rayner, in an encouraging tone as he eyed the Mahomedan closely.
"Nevere," replied Zynool, with a groan. "That one is not like Dorai
Printer. I take measure of that young man, veree quick. No favour for
your humble slave in that compound."
"Oh, you never can tell! And now I'll make a confidant of you, Zynool.
That young man is a very particular friend of my lady. He will be coming
to see us in Madras very soon. I shall not fail to tell him what a
splendid fellow you are, and what a loyal servant of the Empire, and of
the lovely English room you have here," Rayner continued, keeping his
eye on the heavy face to watch the effect of his words, for he had a
matter important to transact which had brought him to Puranapore, though
it was not pressing legal business as he had indicated to his wife.
"The young man is a friend of your lady, say you? That is good! Then,
La'yer Rayner, the road is straight. Your mem-sahib must doubtless do
your Honour's will?" suggested Zynool, with an ugly leer.
Not having an evasive reply ready on the tip of his tongue, Rayner again
applied himself to admiring his gaudy surroundings, though he almost
regretted his recurring to the topic, when Zynool began to rub his fat
hands gleefully, saying:
"But this is not the only English room I have on my premises. Come and
see!" and drawing aside the portière he disclosed a bedroom, where a
shiny new brass bedstead of the commonest order stood, surrounded by the
regulation furnishings. "This, too, all from Oakes & Company, Madras,
quite English and veree costlee"; and he rubbed his hands in childish
glee as he gazed about on his possessions.
"By Jove, what a grand bed, I've a mind to repose on it," exclaimed
Rayner, with well-simulated admiration.
"And would your Honour realee do your humble slave the joy of taking
repose on thatt bed this veree night? If so, all can be arranged and
quicklee too," cried Zynool with enthusiasm.
Mr. Rayner was considerably taken aback by the proposal to sleep in a
native house. He had intended to travel a station or two down the line
when he had finished his business with the Mussulman, and put up at the
bungalow of a bachelor friend. But this eager offer of hospitality was
not to be lightly refused, following as it did Zynool's irate mood, and
he decided that prudence demanded a gracious compliance with the
request.
Zynool, obviously delighted with the success of his suggestion, hurried
off, all importance, to make arrangements for the entertainment of the
English guest. The news instantly circulated from basement to house-top
that the English sahib was to honour the house of his client, though
half-an-hour previously his arrival had seemed to incense its master,
and make confusion throughout the household.
Mr. Rayner's relations with the Mussulman had been of more than two
years' standing. In fact Zynool Sahib had been one of the young
barrister's earliest clients, and owing to Rayner's astuteness and
daring he had been piloted round at least one ugly corner. If the truth
must be told, since then the lawyer had more than once thrust his client
into hot water. The pair had taken shares together in various doubtful
ventures, at Rayner's instigation, encouraged by high interest, and had
been markedly unsuccessful, so that when Zynool informed him that a
really good investment was going a-begging in the shape of a piece of
land in Puranapore, Rayner lent a ready ear. The land being the property
of a Hindu, Zynool explained that he must keep entirely in the
background, but was eager, for reasons of his own, to aid the purchase
by underhand methods. The result was that the land in question became
the property of Alfred Rayner, to pass shortly after into the hands of
the Moslem community for double the price which the lawyer gave for it.
Thus the mosque which was now such a bone of contention came into being,
growing with the rapidity of Jack's beanstalk. Before the Hindus began
to realise what a perpetual source of annoyance it was likely to prove,
the Mahomedans were shouting their morning and evening prayer-calls from
its jerry-built minaret. Zynool rubbed his fat hands with joy at the
success of his plot to snub the Hindus, while Rayner's bag of rupees for
the price of the site was a godsend to him, and had tided him through
many months. But these ill-gotten gains had all melted away during the
past season's extravagances. More serious still, the shares, which had
seemed so promising, were threatening to pay no further dividends, and
calls were looming in the distance. It was this black outlook which had
brought the young lawyer to the house of the Mahomedan this afternoon,
not indeed to announce to his client the threatened failure of their
joint investments--that, he decided, must be kept in the dark--but to
see whether he could negotiate a much needed loan on easier terms than
those of the Madras _soukars_. He considered it therefore worth the
odiousness of being condemned to spend an evening in the crimson plush
drawing-room and the discomfort of a night in the shining brass
bedstead, if he could work his host up to that pitch of smiling
compliance which would make his request an easier task than it seemed
likely to be during the first few minutes of his call.
It was, however, with the cheque for five thousand rupees in his
pocket-book, albeit with even a greater loss of self-respect than his
dealings with the wily Mussulman had hitherto engendered, that Alfred
Rayner stepped out at the low doorway in the weather-stained wall next
morning. His host had ordered his gaudy little chariot to be in
readiness to drive him to the railway station. It waited now as Zynool
stood salaaming on the narrow pavement.
As Mr. Rayner was stepping into the carriage he caught sight of two
Englishmen passing along the head of the street. They walked slowly. One
was a short, broad-shouldered man, who was endeavouring to hold a
white-covered umbrella over the head of his younger and taller companion
as they laughed and chatted together.
"There goes Dr. Campbell, mine enemee," said Zynool, with a fierce
scowl, "and the osser is that haughtee young man. What a pity he did not
see your Honour at the house of your humble slave here," he added, with
an air of disappointment.
Rayner had retreated into the depths of the bandy before he ventured to
make any reply.
"So that's Dr. Campbell, is it? Not a very formidable looking person! I
should say, Zynool, that you're a match for that little man with the
hollow chest," he said, with a careless laugh as he settled himself
among the cushions, while Zynool's dark face filled the window.
Rayner was longing to ask him the question which he was anxiously
asking himself. "Had Mark caught sight of him at the Mussulman's door?"
He fervently hoped not, and made an absent, formal salaam as he took
leave of his host.
He congratulated himself that the two gentlemen, being on foot, were
probably going to the dispensary while their carriage waited near, and
that there would be no risk of his meeting them. He was therefore not a
little chagrined when the first person he saw standing on the platform
was the Assistant-Collector.
Perceiving that an encounter was inevitable, Rayner went forward with a
gracious smile.
"Who would have thought of seeing you here, Cheveril!"
"Why, I should rather say, who would have thought of seeing you at our
little Puranapore," responded Mark, with that direct look in his eye
which had already annoyed Rayner more than once.
"To a dead certainty he saw me at Zynool's door," thought Rayner, who
replied lightly, "Business, sir, business! Trying to get that fellow
Zynool to pay up what he owes me. He happened to be one of my Puranapore
clients before my last furlough. We barristers don't always get paid in
advance, I assure you!"
Mark recalled with discomfort Mr. Worsley's remark as to Zynool having
been helped by a "shady pleader," but he was glad to dismiss the topic
for the present by polite enquiries after Mrs. Rayner.
"Oh, Hester is as fit as a fiddle! Going in for no end of dissipation,
and still keeps her English roses," her husband replied briskly. "Come
and see for yourself, Cheveril! My wife was a bit disappointed that you
declined all our invitations."
"Please tell Mrs. Rayner that I have not been a day absent since I
joined, or I should have taken a run to Madras to see my friends there."
"Yes, I believe the Collector is rather of the slave-driving order.
Between touring and office work he grinds his subs. pretty hard--so
Printer used to tell me."
"That's not a fair representation by any means," said Mark quickly.
"Touring and office work are both in the day's routine, and I like
both."
"Lucky man," said the lawyer, with more honest conviction than his words
generally implied as he glanced half enviously, half admiringly, at the
strong, reliant face of the young civilian which told of faithful days
and peaceful nights.
"Oh, by the way, Rayner, let me introduce you to our doctor! He is
taking a run to Madras to see a case he has in the hospital there.
You'll enjoy Campbell's talk. He's an awfully bright fellow," Mark
added, thinking that such an acquaintance might be salutary for this
shifty looking man. He was glancing round in search of the doctor whom
he saw talking to a Hindu official.
"Oh, thanks, no," replied Rayner, with a shrug of his shoulders. "I've
got a brief to study in the train. I must deny myself the pleasure of
Dr. Campbell's acquaintance."
He was about to hurry off to take his seat when he remembered that he
had made no definite arrangement concerning the suggested visit to
Clive's Road. "You'll come and put up with us for Christmas, of course,
Cheveril? It will be Hester's first Christmas here as well as
yours--jolly to spend it together! Shall I tell her of the pleasure in
store?"
"I'm certainly counting on seeing Mrs. Rayner then. Do please say so
with all kind words from me. But I shall be putting up at the Club. Mr.
Worsley has asked me to be his guest there, and to help him to entertain
a friend he expects to arrive then."
"Ah, well, one must keep on the right side of one's chief, of course.
You're a shrewd man, Cheveril! I'll be able to assure your friend Hester
that you're shaping-in beautifully. At all events you'll give us one
evening at Clive's Road?"
Mark cordially assented and turned away to make a parting salute to the
doctor as the train was moving off.