THE ONE BIG THING.
"The sky that noticed all makes no disclosure;
And earth keeps up her terrible composure."
--BROWNING.
His wife herself was, in the meanwhile, journeying hopefully back to
the Kresneys' bungalow, on the shoulders of four long-suffering
jhampanis, who murmured a little among themselves, without rancour or
vexation, concerning the perplexing ways of Memsahibs in general. For
the native of India the supreme riddle of creation is the English
"Mem."
They had but just cast aside their liveries and, squatting on their
heels in a patch of shadow, had embarked on leisurely preparations for
the evening hookah and the evening meal. The scent of curry was in
their nostrils; the regular "flip-flap" of the deftly turned chupattie
was in their ears; when a flying order had come from the house--"The
Memsahib goes forth in haste!" With resigned mutterings and
head-shakings they had responded to the call of duty, and the
_mate_,[30] who was a philosopher, had a word of comfort for them as
they went. "Worse might have befallen, brothers, seeing that it hath
pleased God to make our Memsahib light as a bird. Had it been the Miss
Sahib, now----" A unanimous murmur testified that the Miss Sahib would
have been a far weightier affair!
[30] Headman.
And on this occasion they must have found their mistress even lighter
than a bird; for instead of lying back among her cushions, she sat
upright, in strained anticipation, pressing between her hands the
miraculous envelope which was to buy back for her all that she had so
lightly flung away.
Honor had spoken truth when she said that Desmond was the one big
thing in Evelyn's life. Everything else about her was small as her
person, and little more effectual. But this impetuous, large-hearted
husband of hers--whose love she had been so proud to win, and had
taken such small pains to keep--could by no means be chiselled into
proportions with the rest of the picture. He took his stand, simply
and naturally, on the heights; and if it was an effort to keep up with
him, it was a real calamity to be left behind. Understand him she
could not, and never would; but it sufficed that she saw him fearless,
chivalrous, admired on all sides, and singularly good to look at. This
last should perhaps have been set down first; for there is no denying
that her remorse, her suffering, had been less overwhelming without
that unexpected vision of his face.
But things were going to be all right soon. She would never hide
anything from him again--never. And the resolve may be counted unto
her for righteousness, even if there could be small hope of its
fulfilment.
Such absorbing considerations crowded out all thought of Honor's
generosity. It was just Honor. No one else would ever give you two
hundred rupees, at a moment's notice, as if it were sixpence. But you
might expect anything from Honor--that was how she was made. And the
one important point was--Theo. Nothing else really mattered at all.
As Kresney's bungalow came in sight she found herself fervently hoping
that he might have gone out; that she might have to encounter nothing
more formidable than Miss Kresney, or, better still, the bearer.
But before the gate was reached, she caught sight of him in the
verandah, taking his ease very completely in one of those ungainly
chairs, with arms extending to long wooden leg-rests, which seem to
belong to India and no other country in the world. He had exchanged
his coat for a Japanese smoking jacket, whose collar and cuffs could
ill afford to brave daylight; and his boots for slippers of Linda's
making, whose conflicting colours might have set an oyster's teeth on
edge! His own teeth were clenched upon a rank cigar; and he was
reading a paper-bound novel that she would not have touched with a
pair of tongs.
He had never appeared to worse advantage; and Evelyn, fresh from her
husband's air of unobtrusive neatness and distinction, was conscious
of a sudden recoil--a purely physical revulsion; to which was added
the galling thought that she owed her recent suffering and humiliation
to her intimacy with a man who could look like that!
As she turned in at the gate, he sprang up and ran down the steps. Her
return astounded him. He was prepared for anything at that moment,
except the thing that happened--a common human experience.
"Back again, Mrs Desmond!" he cried cheerfully. "This is a most
unexpected pleasure. _Rukho jhampan._"[31]
[31] Set down the jhampan.
But Evelyn countermanded the order so promptly that Kresney's eyebrows
went up. She handed him her note, clutching the wooden pole nervously
with the other hand.
"I had to come out again--on business," she said, with that ready
mingling of the false and true which had been her undoing. "And I
thought I could leave this for Miss Kresney as I passed. Will you
please give it to her. I am sorry she is not in."
He took the envelope, and watched her while she spoke with narrowed
eyes.
"You are in trouble?" The intimate note in his voice jarred for the
first time. "Something has upset you since you left? You are quite
knocked up with all this. You ought to have been in Murree two weeks
ago."
And, presumably by accident, his hand came down upon her own. She drew
it away with an involuntary shudder; and Kresney's sallow face
darkened.
"You have no business to say that," she rebuked him with desperate
courage; "I prefer to be with my husband till he is well enough to go
too. You won't forget my note, will you? Good-night."
"Good-night, Mrs Desmond," he answered formally, without proffering
his hand.
As he stood watching her depart, all that was worst in him rose to the
surface and centred in his close-set eyes. "By God, you shall be sorry
for that!" he muttered.
But in mounting the steps his curiosity was awakened by the bulkiness
of Linda's letter. He turned it over once or twice; pressed it between
his fingers and detected the crackle of new bank-notes.
"So that's it, is it? Well, I can forgive her. No doubt she had a
jolly hot quarter of an hour; and I hope that fellow is enjoying
himself now--_like hell!_" Then, without a glimmer of hesitation, he
opened his sister's letter.
* * * * *
And, out in the road, Evelyn's jhampanis were experiencing fresh proof
of the indubitable madness of Memsahibs.
No sooner were their faces set cheerfully homeward, than they were
brought up short by an order to turn and carry her in the opposite
direction. No destination was specified; and the road indicated led
out towards the hills. Hookahs and chupatties tugging at their
heart-strings, roused them to mild rebellion. The mate, as established
spokesman, murmured of _khana_[32] and the lateness of the hour;
adding that the road behind them led away from the Sahibs' bungalows
to the boundary of the station.
[32] Food.
But Evelyn, whose Hindustani was still a negligible quantity, made no
attempt to follow the man's remarks. She reiterated her wish, adding
irritably, "Make no foolish talk. It is an order!"
Those magic words, _Hukm hai_, are the insignia of authority through
the length and breadth of India; and consoling one another with the
reflection that if the Memsahib had small understanding, the Sahib was
great, they jogged obediently along the lonely road toward the hills.
Evelyn's order had been given on the impulse of a moment. The idea of
confronting her husband again in less than ten minutes had overpowered
her suddenly and completely. She had only one thought--to gain-time;
to screw up her courage for the ordeal; and to realise a little what
she intended to say. It is only the strong who dare to trust that the
right words will be given them.
Her interview with Kresney had unnerved her; and a lurking doubt
quenched the spark of hope at her heart. Would Theo accept her tardy
obedience without asking unanswerable questions. Or would he simply
put her aside, with his inexorable quietness, that was far more
terrible than any spoken word?
In all the pain and bewilderment of their short interview, nothing had
so smitten her as his recoil--first and last--from the touch of her
hands. The bare possibility that he might treat her so again made
return seem out of the question. And her unhappiness struck deeper
than the fear of the moment. For the first time she realised her own
instability of feeling and purpose; and with the realisation came a
new paralysing fear of the future--of herself.
For the first time it dawned upon her that she was unworthy of the
love and faith that had been given her in such generous
measure;--which was proof conclusive, though she did not guess it,
that Honor Meredith had not laboured in vain. To know oneself unworthy
is to have achieved the first step upward. A year ago she would have
been incapable of such knowledge; and now that it had come to her she
was afraid.
Sudden cessation of movement roused her; and the mate, turning his
head, spoke with respectful urgency.
"Protector of the Poor, it is not well to go farther. Behold the swift
going of the sun. Before your servants can reach the bungalow there
will be no more light, and it is against orders----The Sahib will make
angry talk."
Evelyn did not follow the whole of this appeal; but the man's anxiety
was evident. She caught the words "Sahib" and "angry" with an inward
shudder; she had endured enough of the Sahib's anger for one day, and
her own common-sense told her that she had behaved foolishly.
Even outlying bungalows were no longer in sight. A boundary pillar
gleamed ghostlike a few hundred yards ahead. The last rim of the sun
had already slipped behind the hills. Their harsh peaks black against
a sky of faint amber, had a threatening look; and darkness was racing
up out of the east. The mate was right. It would be upon them almost
before they could reach the bungalow; and to be out after sunset was
strictly against the rules of the station.
Sudden terror clutched her; a nameless dread of the country--of the
natives--which she had never been able to shake off; a paralysing
sense that she was alone in their midst--alone on the verge of night.
Fear unsteadied her voice as she answered the man. "Turn, turn at
once, and go quickly,--run; the Sahib will give _jacksheesh_--run!"
But before they could obey, a white figure sprang up from behind a
cluster of rocks. Quick as thought followed a flash, a report, a
heart-piercing scream; and the men, with a cry of "Ghazi! Ghazi!"
unceremoniously set down their mistress and fled.
The fanatic fled also, certain of a passport into Paradise; and as
Evelyn Desmond fell back among her cushions, a shadow, that had not
been there before, crept slowly across the shoulder of her muslin
dress. The oncoming darkness mattered nothing to her now; and she
herself, a mere atom of life, blown out like a candle, mattered less
than nothing to the desert and the imperturbable hills.
But justice does not invariably tarry. The arm of the Lord is not
shortened, though in these days of omniscience man has a larger faith
in his own; and the Ghazi, heading post-haste through the dusk plunged
unwittingly into a group of villagers and cattle returning home.
A short scuffle ensued, shouts and the tramping of feet--sounds which
brought the flying jhampanis back in a twinkling, surcharged with
voluble valour and explanations. Resistance was useless. Moreover, to
the fanatic, death is the one great gift. With stoical indifference
the man found himself overpowered and disarmed. Zealous villagers,
unrolling turbans and kummerbunds, made fast his arms, bound him
securely about the waist and neck, and in this ignominious fashion led
him back to where Evelyn Desmond lay untroubled and alone.
The jhampanis shouldered their burden once more; and fell to
discussing, in lively detail, the hanging and subsequent burning that
awaited the Taker of Life, who walked unconcernedly in their midst.