INDIAN MAGIC
Upon entering her bedroom to change her dress for supper, Miss Innes
found it bright with firelight. On the bed her frock was laid out, her
shoes were warming in the fender. Upon the rug before the hearth, the
red glow of the flames intensifying the colour of her crimson saree, sat
the Indian woman, cross-legged, her chin supported on her hand, gazing
intently at something on the ground, near the fire. There was a warm,
seductive sweetness in the air, like the faint breath of flowers.
Olwen, who had crept in with muscles drawn together to withstand the
biting cold, felt as if she had entered a conservatory unawares.
"Oh, what a lovely fire!" was her first impetuous cry. Then,
reprovingly, "You must not spoil me like this. I came here to help you,
not to make someone else to wait upon."
The ayah raised her soft eyes to the expressive little face of the girl,
who had knelt upon the hearth beside her. "Missee must be served," she
said in her curious, caressing voice. "I know it, first minute I see
her. The stars tell me. Sunia know about stars, she what you call
witch woman, you sahibs."
What girl of two-and-twenty is wholly destitute of curiosity concerning
veiled destiny? Olwen's eyes grew big. "What do you mean," she asked,
half laughing, half in earnest, "by saying that the stars told you
things about me?"
The ayah rose to her feet with the lithe movement of a creature without
bones. She held her hands to Olwen, raised her to her feet, and they
stood a moment, eye to eye.
Olwen felt her hands tingle.
"Missee make bargain with ole ayah? Ole ayah never seen Missee, never
know Missee, all up to this night. If she can tell Missee things gone
by, things what happen to her long ago, will Missee believe she know
what going to happen one day?"
There was something uncanny here. The Celtic blood ran warm in Olwen.
Her voice shook a little. "Sunia, what can you know about me?" she
challenged smilingly.
The little brown hands were softly impelling her, so that she sank into
a well cushioned chair which stood beside the hearth. The Hindu
crouched before her, her face in darkness, save when a wandering gleam
from the blazing logs caught her eyes and made them flicker.
"My missee born upon the fells," she murmured. "Her folks carried her
south--away south--but she came back. She born for the north, she never
stay in London town. She come north, always north, farther north, where
she belong, where she stay, in her own place."
There was a silence, during which the girl held her breath, her senses
lulled into a kind of stupor. She noted for the first time that two
tiny earthen pots stood in the ashes of the hearth. From one of these
ascended a minute, twisting jet of smoke, evidently the cause of the
subtle perfume which hung upon the air. The vapour seemed to be binding
her senses in some kind of enchantment; but the words already spoken by
the woman made her eager to hear more.
Bending forward, Sunia touched first one little pot, then the other,
with her tiny brown hand; then, sitting back on her heels, she closed
her eyes, holding her arms rigidly extended. They were covered with
glass bangles. and her movement caused these to ring or chime musically.
The sound of them died away very gradually--as it seemed to the excited
imagination of the girl, rhythmically--till all was still. The silence
was intense when the woman began to mutter:
"Two beside her when first she set her feet to earth ... two who are
divided by all but their love for her. Now one goes ... driven away ...
the one she love most ... a man. He look back all a time ... but he go.
And now the other she go too. More slow. Much more slow. She is
alone. She is very much alone. I see her in a room with many others
... but quite alone; always a-lone!"
The voice died away. Olwen was agitated far beyond her expectations.
It was, as far as she could tell, out of the question that this woman
could know the details of which she spoke. She closed her eyes, leaning
back in her chair; and the soft chime of the bangles, as the thin brown
arms sank upon their owner's knees, sounded like the last chord of some
dim fantasia.
"Have I seen true, Missee?"
"Yes. Quite true. Oh, Sunia, tell me more, if you can see! That one I
loved--that one who went away--is he still living, or is he dead?"
"Dead," was the soft answer. "Missee when I see her, quite alone: till
the north call and she have to come to the Pele. Now look! I take
Missee farther--only a little. I not see very plain this night, because
we only begin. When Missee give me her thoughts more I see better."
Leaning forward, she laid her hand again, quite gently, upon the little
earthen pots, which had ceased to smoke. So far as Olwen could see, she
put nothing into them, applying merely the tips of her fingers; but at
once there ascended from each a thread of smoke, very distinct,
ascending spirally. As the upward draught took them, the two smokes
mingled, and rose, passing out of sight as if entwined.
"This one Missee's, that mine," said the sorceress. "My fate and hers
have touched and come together. Never come undone now. Can't do. Me
Missee's woman always."
As she spoke, the smoke vanished, the little pots contained only a
morsel of grey ash.
Olwen did not speak for some long moments. She sat fascinated,
hypnotised by the perfume and the weird prophecy.
After a while, she rallied her senses, and spoke with a desperate effort
to be normal. "That must be nonsense. I have only come here for a
month. Most likely, at the end of that time, I shall go away, and you
and I will never meet again."
"We may have to part," replied Sunia gravely. "I thought I saw a
parting, and that is bad. But not for long. If you go, you come back
again. I very well can see that."
"You speak as if you were really a witch! I think I am afraid of you."
"No need. I only show you I Missee's woman," was the simple answer, "so
you let me do things for you. I do everything for my Missee, and that
make ole ayah very happy."
As she spoke, she arose, went to the basin, and poured hot water into
it.
Arising with resolution, Olwen passed her hand over her eyes as if to
clear away cobwebs. It needed a real effort of will-power to wrench
herself back to everyday life. Only the fear of being late for supper
this first evening enabled her to unfasten her serge frock and slip out
of it. Sunia had lit more candles, so that the room was now full of
light. She stood a moment, gazing approvingly at the rounded outlines
of the girl's form. Then, making her sit down, she folded a huge towel
about her, brought the basin to a chair near, and bathed face, throat
and arms with water which, like the air of the room, was subtly
perfumed. As she wiped the wet skin with the softest damask, she
muttered that there was no time to-night to make Missee really
beautiful, but later on she would massage her properly. She let down
her hair once more and rearranged it, this time with a trifling
difference of effect which was most becoming. She changed shoes and
stockings, and finally put on the simple little frock of dull green
velveteen.
Wholly subdued by the woman's spell, whatever it was, the girl made no
further objections. As she submitted passively to her ministrations, it
was with a feeling that all this had happened before; that in some
previous incarnation she had been thus attended. She did not rebel,
even when the woman came to her holding in her hands a gauze scarf,
curiously embroidered in dull gold.
"Cold, down them stone steps. Missee put this over her shoulders," she
murmured.
"Oh, what a lovely scarf!"
"Belonged a Begum once. Just right for my Missee," said the woman,
adjusting it over the girl's shoulders. The mirror was too small for
Olwen to see the full effect; but the glimpse she did obtain was
satisfactory. The gold of the scarf was the gold of her hair.
"I will wear this scarf if it pleases you," she softly said, "Only you
know it's yours, not mine."
"All a same," said the woman simply. "I just glad my Missee like it."
As she spoke, the big clock over the gatehouse tolled eight in its deep,
sad tones. The ayah collected the hot-water can and other things, and
carried them off into the adjoining room.
"Is that where you sleep, Sunia?"
"Yes, Missee. You and me on this floor. My Sahib, he sleep next room
to Madam, underneath."
Olwen felt glad to know that she had someone near her, although the
woman made her half afraid.
"Missee better go down," said Sunia, reappearing. "Take a light."
She put a candle in a glass shade into the girl's hand, and, turning
away with a last inhalation of the curious fragrance of her chamber,
Miss Innes went down the twisting stair a little shakily, feeling
overexcited and queer. Yesterday seemed cut off from to-day by some
impassable barrier.
As she reached the floor below her, she came face to face with young
Guyse, candle in hand, obeying the supper-bell like herself. He stopped
short, a startled look on his face, which disappeared almost at once, to
give place to his usual cocksure smile.
"I thought at first you were a fairy," he said. "You are turned out,
upon my word! Determined not to leave me a single loophole of escape,
aren't you?"
"Unfortunately, you are not speaking my language. I can't understand a
single word you say," was the stiff retort.
"Ah, that reminds me! I'll have my first lesson after supper."
"It's very cold here. Will you go first, or shall I?"
"Let me lead the way," he replied, turning on his heel.
Madam awaited them in the dining-room. She had made no change in her
attire. "Oh, dear," said she fretfully, as Olwen came in, "you have
made yourself smart!"
Olwen laughed, glad to expend some of her bottled-up excitement.
"This is Sunia's doing, the scarf is hers. She begged me to put it on.
I thought it was her pretty way of telling me that my frock was a bit
shabby for the occasion, so I did as she asked."
"Well, you look very nice, I must own. You pay for dressing, as they
say. It is years since I have seen anybody prettily dressed."
Ninian made a restless movement
"In my husband's lifetime we had a house in town as well as a big
country place," went on his mother. "Ninian doesn't realise at all how
much I miss it."
Her son was very red. "Mother, what is the use of talking so? You know
I can't help it."
Madam sighed deeply, but as the ayah now entered, with a silver entree
dish in her hand, they sat down to table and the subject dropped. It
had one good effect, for it made Ninian exert himself to talk, so as to
turn the current of Madam's thoughts. Olwen was grateful to him for
making conversation, for her own fancy was so full of the
fortune-telling as to make it impossible for her to fix her thoughts on
anything else. Later, when the ayah had left the room, she could no
longer resist speaking of what had occurred. "Is not your Sunia a
clairvoyante?" she asked. "She has been saying most extraordinary
things to me."
Madam stared in faint surprise. "What kind of things?"
"About my childhood and early life. Things she could not possibly have
known. She spoke of my parents, 'divided in everything but their love
for me.' That is, unfortunately, true, but she could not have known it
by any ordinary means."
As she spoke, she caught Mr. Guyse's eye. There was an expression in it
which held her attention, but which she could not analyse. It was
rather like pity. As their eyes met, he rose from table with a nervous
laugh. "She's an old humbug," he said. "Don't listen to her, don't let
her bore you. Shall I tell her to let you alone?"
"Oh, please don't tell tales of me! She has been so kind, she has done
all she could for me. I--I didn't mind her saying that, only it seemed
a bit uncanny."
He gave her another self-conscious look, then turned away and lit his
pipe without replying.
"Let's go to the billiard-room," he said at length. "Come along, Ma."
Mrs. Guyse rose with evident unwillingness, and began to look for her
shawl. Olwen found it, and put it over her shoulders. "The room will
be as cold as a well," said she fretfully. "Understand, Nin, that I go
off to bed in an hour's time."
"All right," replied her son shortly.
They mounted to the floor immediately above, and the puzzle as to where
they kept the library was solved. This great apartment had evidently
been the refectory or banqueting hall. It had been altered into a
library by the Tudor Guyse, who had cut windows so recklessly; and
Madam's dead husband had turned it into a billiard-room.
It covered the whole floor space of the tower, except for a small bit at
the north end. On this side were three arched doors, enriched with
ball-flower moulding, the easternmost leading to the chapel, the western
to the priest's room, the central one to a small windowless space known
as the dungeon.
Above the fine bookcases was oak panelling, on which hung a few inferior
oil paintings of dead Guyses.
Near the south end of the west wall was a very large oriel, with a
window seat and table and chairs. So large was the apartment that the
full-sized billiard table looked quite small in it, and left plenty of
space for settles and arm-chairs round about the Tudor fireplace, with
the Guyse arms carved above.
The existence of this noble room delighted Olwen. It changed the whole
character of the place. Here was an ideal spot for reading or writing.
There were several fine screens in stamped leather, which would exclude
draughts. The western oriel, commanding a view of the lovely Guyseburn
Dale, would be utterly delightful in summer-time.
Ninian seemed pleased at her naive admiration. He displayed to her the
poor bare little chapel, destitute of all plenishing, and the two other
apartments. Olwen wondered how the priest could close his eyes at
night, if there were a prisoner in solitary confinement next door to
him. Young Guyse laughed, and said that the Border folk, priests and
laity alike, were a hard-bitten lot, and that in those days compassion
was hardly counted as a virtue. It was as badly out of fashion as
discipline and obedience are now.
"I must own that I believe my ancestors to have been a set of
bloody-minded thieves," he remarked with candour.
"They're but little changed now," observed his mother, from her seat by
the fire.
"Thanks, Ma, don't lose a chance," he flung back negligently, going to
the rack to choose cues.
He found that Olwen had somewhat underrated her own skill. He gave her
a big handicap, and she actually beat him. Mrs. Guyse, who at first sat
languidly reading the paper, presently sat up, and at last even left her
place to watch them. They all three became quite animated, and when
Madam suddenly recollected herself and said she was going to bed at
once, it was more than half-past ten.
Olwen, though the game was not finished, put away her own cue, and began
to collect the lady's workbag and cushions.
"Oh, stay and finish your game! Don't let Ninian be able to say that I
took you off before the end," said the hostess pettishly.
"But please I am very tired," said Olwen, "I am quite ready to say good
night."
She said it with so much firmness that Ninian, who had flung down his
cue and marched upon her with the evident intention of sharp protest,
said not a single word, but allowed them both to disappear, through the
narrow door, with a candle to guide the steps of Madam on the dark
stairs.
When they reached the lady's own quarters, the girl followed her into
the sitting-room, and, setting down the candle, asked modestly for a few
directions.
"I'm very anxious, of course, to do exactly as you wish," said she. "At
what hour is breakfast, and should you expect me to make the tea or
coffee?"
Madam stood irresolutely by the table, twisting her hands together as if
worried almost beyond endurance. Her face was set in obstinate lines.
"To come down to breakfast I absolutely decline," said she in a
desperate voice. "I haven't done such a thing for years, and it can't
be expected of me."
Olwen was so astonished that she stood with her mouth open.
"I suppose you have no objection to breakfasting with my son? You seem
to be extremely particular," said Madam after a pause.
"I am here to carry out your orders," was the girl's reply. "I shall do
as you wish, of course. At what hour does Mr. Guyse breakfast?"
"At eight o'clock."
"And you would like me to be down and to breakfast with him?"
"He would," was the surprising answer.
Olwen shrugged her shoulders. "Then," she went on, as steadily as she
could, "at what time should I come to you? Is there anything you would
like me to do, or shall I begin at once upon the library books?"
With a weary gesture, the lady dropped into a chair.
"Really, Miss Innes, I cannot be bothered like this. I am tired--I wish
to sleep. Go to bed, for goodness' sake, and when I am up to-morrow
perhaps I shall have some orders for you. I am usually dressed about
eleven."
"Thank you," was the meek response. "That was all I wanted to know. I
am sorry to be importunate, but I feel a little strange at first."
"Yes, yes, I know. Good night. I hope you will be comfortable. Sunia
says your bed is soft, but comfort in this jail of a place seems a thing
one can't even imagine." She turned, with a harsh laugh, upon the girl
as she withdrew. "When I married Ninian's father I had never put on my
own stockings in my life! I was a millionaire's daughter! And
now--look at me! Look at my house! Look at my clothes! Even the sight
of a girl from a town upsets me!"