Life's Handicap: Being Stories of Mine Own People
WITHOUT BENEFIT OF CLERGY
Before my Spring I garnered Autumn's gain, Out of her time my field was white with grain, The year gave up her secrets to my woe. Forced and deflowered each sick season lay, In mystery of increase and decay; I saw the sunset ere men saw the day, Who am too wise in that I should not know. BITTER WATERS.
I
'But if it be a girl?'
'Lord of my life, it cannot be. I have prayed for so many nights, andsent gifts to Sheikh Badl's shrine so often, that I know God will giveus a son--a man-child that shall grow into a man. Think of this and beglad. My mother shall be his mother till I can take him again, and themullah of the Pattan mosque shall cast his nativity--God send he be bornin an auspicious hour!--and then, and then thou wilt never weary of me,thy slave.'
'Since when hast thou been a slave, my queen?'
'Since the beginning--till this mercy came to me. How could I be sure ofthy love when I knew that I had been bought with silver?'
'Nay, that was the dowry. I paid it to thy mother.'
'And she has buried it, and sits upon it all day long like a hen. Whattalk is yours of dower! I was bought as though I had been a Lucknowdancing-girl instead of a child.'
'Art thou sorry for the sale?'
'I have sorrowed; but to-day I am glad. Thou wilt never cease to love menow?--answer, my king.'
'Never--never. No.'
'Not even though the mem-log--the white women of thy own blood--lovethee? And remember, I have watched them driving in the evening; they arevery fair.'
'I have seen fire-balloons by the hundred. I have seen the moon,and--then I saw no more fire-balloons.'
Ameera clapped her hands and laughed. 'Very good talk,' she said. Thenwith an assumption of great stateliness, 'It is enough. Thou hast mypermission to depart,--if thou wilt.'
The man did not move. He was sitting on a low red-lacquered couch in aroom furnished only with a blue and white floor-cloth, some rugs, and avery complete collection of native cushions. At his feet sat a woman ofsixteen, and she was all but all the world in his eyes. By every ruleand law she should have been otherwise, for he was an Englishman, andshe a Mussulman's daughter bought two years before from her mother, who,being left without money, would have sold Ameera shrieking to the Princeof Darkness if the price had been sufficient.
It was a contract entered into with a light heart; but even before thegirl had reached her bloom she came to fill the greater portion of JohnHolden's life. For her, and the withered hag her mother, he had taken alittle house overlooking the great red-walled city, and found,--whenthe marigolds had sprung up by the well in the courtyard and Ameerahad established herself according to her own ideas of comfort, and hermother had ceased grumbling at the inadequacy of the cooking-places,the distance from the daily market, and at matters of house-keeping ingeneral,--that the house was to him his home. Any one could enter hisbachelor's bungalow by day or night, and the life that he led therewas an unlovely one. In the house in the city his feet only could passbeyond the outer courtyard to the women's rooms; and when the big woodengate was bolted behind him he was king in his own territory, with Ameerafor queen. And there was going to be added to this kingdom a thirdperson whose arrival Holden felt inclined to resent. It interfered withhis perfect happiness. It disarranged the orderly peace of the housethat was his own. But Ameera was wild with delight at the thought of it,and her mother not less so. The love of a man, and particularly a whiteman, was at the best an inconstant affair, but it might, both womenargued, be held fast by a baby's hands. 'And then,' Ameera would alwayssay, 'then he will never care for the white mem-log. I hate them all--Ihate them all.'
'He will go back to his own people in time,' said the mother; 'but bythe blessing of God that time is yet afar off.'
Holden sat silent on the couch thinking of the future, and his thoughtswere not pleasant. The drawbacks of a double life are manifold. TheGovernment, with singular care, had ordered him out of the station for afortnight on special duty in the place of a man who was watching by thebedside of a sick wife. The verbal notification of the transfer had beenedged by a cheerful remark that Holden ought to think himself lucky inbeing a bachelor and a free man. He came to break the news to Ameera.
'It is not good,' she said slowly, 'but it is not all bad. There is mymother here, and no harm will come to me--unless indeed I die of purejoy. Go thou to thy work and think no troublesome thoughts. When thedays are done I believe... nay, I am sure. And--and then I shall lay HIMin thy arms, and thou wilt love me for ever. The train goes to-night, atmidnight is it not? Go now, and do not let thy heart be heavy by causeof me. But thou wilt not delay in returning? Thou wilt not stay on theroad to talk to the bold white mem-log. Come back to me swiftly, mylife.'
As he left the courtyard to reach his horse that was tethered to thegate-post, Holden spoke to the white-haired old watchman who guarded thehouse, and bade him under certain contingencies despatch the filled-uptelegraph-form that Holden gave him. It was all that could be done, andwith the sensations of a man who has attended his own funeral Holdenwent away by the night mail to his exile. Every hour of the day hedreaded the arrival of the telegram, and every hour of the night hepictured to himself the death of Ameera. In consequence his work forthe State was not of first-rate quality, nor was his temper towards hiscolleagues of the most amiable. The fortnight ended without a sign fromhis home, and, torn to pieces by his anxieties, Holden returned to beswallowed up for two precious hours by a dinner at the club, wherein heheard, as a man hears in a swoon, voices telling him how execrably hehad performed the other man's duties, and how he had endeared himself toall his associates. Then he fled on horseback through the night withhis heart in his mouth. There was no answer at first to his blows onthe gate, and he had just wheeled his horse round to kick it in when PirKhan appeared with a lantern and held his stirrup.
'Has aught occurred?' said Holden.
'The news does not come from my mouth, Protector of the Poor, but--'He held out his shaking hand as befitted the bearer of good news who isentitled to a reward.
Holden hurried through the courtyard. A light burned in the upper room.His horse neighed in the gateway, and he heard a shrill little wail thatsent all the blood into the apple of his throat. It was a new voice, butit did not prove that Ameera was alive.
'Who is there?' he called up the narrow brick staircase.
There was a cry of delight from Ameera, and then the voice ofthe mother, tremulous with old age and pride--'We be two womenand--the--man--thy--son.'
On the threshold of the room Holden stepped on a naked dagger, thatwas laid there to avert ill-luck, and it broke at the hilt under hisimpatient heel.
'God is great!' cooed Ameera in the half-light. 'Thou hast taken hismisfortunes on thy head.'
'Ay, but how is it with thee, life of my life? Old woman, how is it withher?'
'She has forgotten her sufferings for joy that the child is born. Thereis no harm; but speak softly,' said the mother.
'It only needed thy presence to make me all well,' said Ameera. 'Myking, thou hast been very long away. What gifts hast thou for me? Ah,ah! It is I that bring gifts this time. Look, my life, look. Was thereever such a babe? Nay, I am too weak even to clear my arm from him.'
'Rest then, and do not talk. I am here, bachari [little woman].'
'Well said, for there is a bond and a heel-rope [peecharee] between usnow that nothing can break. Look--canst thou see in this light? He iswithout spot or blemish. Never was such a man-child. Ya illah! he shallbe a pundit--no, a trooper of the Queen. And, my life, dost thou love meas well as ever, though I am faint and sick and worn? Answer truly.'
'Yea. I love as I have loved, with all my soul. Lie still, pearl, andrest.'
'Then do not go. Sit by my side here--so. Mother, the lord of this houseneeds a cushion. Bring it.' There was an almost imperceptible movementon the part of the new life that lay in the hollow of Ameera's arm.'Aho!
' she said, her voice breaking with love. 'The babe is a championfrom his birth. He is kicking me in the side with mighty kicks. Wasthere ever such a babe! And he is ours to us--thine and mine. Put thyhand on his head, but carefully, for he is very young, and men areunskilled in such matters.'
Very cautiously Holden touched with the tips of his fingers the downyhead.
'He is of the faith,' said Ameera; 'for lying here in the night-watchesI whispered the call to prayer and the profession of faith into hisears. And it is most marvellous that he was born upon a Friday, as Iwas born. Be careful of him, my life; but he can almost grip with hishands.'
Holden found one helpless little hand that closed feebly on his finger.And the clutch ran through his body till it settled about his heart.Till then his sole thought had been for Ameera. He began to realise thatthere was some one else in the world, but he could not feel that itwas a veritable son with a soul. He sat down to think, and Ameera dozedlightly.
'Get hence, sahib,' said her mother under her breath. 'It is not goodthat she should find you here on waking. She must be still.'
'I go,' said Holden submissively. 'Here be rupees. See that my baba getsfat and finds all that he needs.'
The chink of the silver roused Ameera. 'I am his mother, and nohireling,' she said weakly. 'Shall I look to him more or less for thesake of money? Mother, give it back. I have born my lord a son.'
The deep sleep of weakness came upon her almost before the sentence wascompleted. Holden went down to the courtyard very softly with his heartat ease. Pir Khan, the old watchman, was chuckling with delight. 'Thishouse is now complete,' he said, and without further comment thrustinto Holden's hands the hilt of a sabre worn many years ago when he, PirKhan, served the Queen in the police. The bleat of a tethered goat camefrom the well-kerb.
'There be two,' said Pir Khan, 'two goats of the best. I bought them,and they cost much money; and since there is no birth-party assembledtheir flesh will be all mine. Strike craftily, sahib! 'Tis anill-balanced sabre at the best. Wait till they raise their heads fromcropping the marigolds.'
'And why?' said Holden, bewildered.
'For the birth-sacrifice. What else? Otherwise the child being unguardedfrom fate may die. The Protector of the Poor knows the fitting words tobe said.'
Holden had learned them once with little thought that he would everspeak them in earnest. The touch of the cold sabre-hilt in his palmturned suddenly to the clinging grip of the child upstairs--the childthat was his own son--and a dread of loss filled him.
'Strike!' said Pir Khan. 'Never life came into the world but life waspaid for it. See, the goats have raised their heads. Now! With a drawingcut!'
Hardly knowing what he did Holden cut twice as he muttered the Mahomedanprayer that runs: 'Almighty! In place of this my son I offer life forlife, blood for blood, head for head, bone for bone, hair for hair, skinfor skin.' The waiting horse snorted and bounded in his pickets at thesmell of the raw blood that spirted over Holden's riding-boots.
'Well smitten!' said Pir Khan, wiping the sabre. 'A swordsman was lostin thee. Go with a light heart, Heaven-born. I am thy servant, and theservant of thy son. May the Presence live a thousand years and... theflesh of the goats is all mine?' Pir Khan drew back richer by a month'spay. Holden swung himself into the saddle and rode off throughthe low-hanging wood-smoke of the evening. He was full of riotousexultation, alternating with a vast vague tenderness directed towards noparticular object, that made him choke as he bent over the neck of hisuneasy horse. 'I never felt like this in my life,' he thought. 'I'll goto the club and pull myself together.'
A game of pool was beginning, and the room was full of men. Holdenentered, eager to get to the light and the company of his fellows,singing at the top of his voice--
In Baltimore a-walking, a lady I did meet!
'Did you?' said the club-secretary from his corner. 'Did she happen totell you that your boots were wringing wet? Great goodness, man, it'sblood!'
'Bosh!' said Holden, picking his cue from the rack. 'May I cut in? It'sdew. I've been riding through high crops. My faith! my boots are in amess though!
'And if it be a girl she shall wear a wedding-ring, And if it be a boy he shall fight for his king, With his dirk, and his cap, and his little jacket blue, He shall walk the quarter-deck--'
'Yellow on blue--green next player,' said the marker monotonously.
'He shall walk the quarter-deck,--Am I green, marker? He shall walk thequarter-deck,--eh! that's a bad shot,--As his daddy used to do!'
'I don't see that you have anything to crow about,' said a zealousjunior civilian acidly. 'The Government is not exactly pleased with yourwork when you relieved Sanders.'
'Does that mean a wigging from headquarters?' said Holden with anabstracted smile. 'I think I can stand it.'
The talk beat up round the ever-fresh subject of each man's work, andsteadied Holden till it was time to go to his dark empty bungalow, wherehis butler received him as one who knew all his affairs. Holden remainedawake for the greater part of the night, and his dreams were pleasantones.
II
'How old is he now?'
'Ya illah! What a man's question! He is all but six weeks old; and onthis night I go up to the housetop with thee, my life, to count thestars. For that is auspicious. And he was born on a Friday under thesign of the Sun, and it has been told to me that he will outlive us bothand get wealth. Can we wish for aught better, beloved?'
'There is nothing better. Let us go up to the roof, and thou shalt countthe stars--but a few only, for the sky is heavy with cloud.'
'The winter rains are late, and maybe they come out of season. Come,before all the stars are hid. I have put on my richest jewels.'
'Thou hast forgotten the best of all.'
'Ai! Ours. He comes also. He has never yet seen the skies.'
Ameera climbed the narrow staircase that led to the flat roof. Thechild, placid and unwinking, lay in the hollow of her right arm,gorgeous in silver-fringed muslin with a small skull-cap on his head.Ameera wore all that she valued most. The diamond nose-stud that takesthe place of the Western patch in drawing attention to the curve of thenostril, the gold ornament in the centre of the forehead studded withtallow-drop emeralds and flawed rubies, the heavy circlet of beaten goldthat was fastened round her neck by the softness of the pure metal, andthe chinking curb-patterned silver anklets hanging low over the rosyankle-bone. She was dressed in jade-green muslin as befitted a daughterof the Faith, and from shoulder to elbow and elbow to wrist ranbracelets of silver tied with floss silk, frail glass bangles slippedover the wrist in proof of the slenderness of the hand, and certainheavy gold bracelets that had no part in her country's ornaments but,since they were Holden's gift and fastened with a cunning European snap,delighted her immensely.
They sat down by the low white parapet of the roof, overlooking the cityand its lights.
'They are happy down there,' said Ameera. 'But I do not think that theyare as happy as we. Nor do I think the white mem-log are as happy. Andthou?'
'I know they are not.'
'How dost thou know?'
'They give their children over to the nurses.'
'I have never seen that,' said Ameera with a sigh, 'nor do I wish tosee. Ahi!--she dropped her head on Holden's shoulder,--'I have countedforty stars, and I am tired. Look at the child, love of my life, he iscounting too.'
The baby was staring with round eyes at the dark of the heavens. Ameeraplaced him in Holden's arms, and he lay there without a cry.
'What shall we call him among ourselves?' she said. 'Look! Art thou evertired of looking? He carries thy very eyes. But the mouth--'
'Is thine, most dear. Who should know better than I?'
''Tis such a feeble mouth. Oh, so small! And yet it holds my heartbetween its lips. Give him to me now. He has been too long away.'
'Nay, let him lie; he has not yet begun to cry.'
'When he cries thou wilt give him back--eh? What a man of mankind tho
uart! If he cried he were only the dearer to me. But, my life, whatlittle name shall we give him?'
The small body lay close to Holden's heart. It was utterly helpless andvery soft. He scarcely dared to breathe for fear of crushing it. Thecaged green parrot that is regarded as a sort of guardian-spirit in mostnative households moved on its perch and fluttered a drowsy wing.
'There is the answer,' said Holden. 'Mian Mittu has spoken. He shall bethe parrot. When he is ready he will talk mightily and run about. MianMittu is the parrot in thy--in the Mussulman tongue, is it not?'
'Why put me so far off?' said Ameera fretfully. 'Let it be like untosome English name--but not wholly. For he is mine.'
'Then call him Tota, for that is likest English.'
'Ay, Tota, and that is still the parrot. Forgive me, my lord, for aminute ago, but in truth he is too little to wear all the weight of MianMittu for name. He shall be Tota--our Tota to us. Hearest thou, O smallone? Littlest, thou art Tota.' She touched the child's cheek, and hewaking wailed, and it was necessary to return him to his mother, whosoothed him with the wonderful rhyme of Are koko, Jare koko! which says:
Oh crow! Go crow! Baby's sleeping sound, And the wild plums grow in the jungle, only a penny a pound. Only a penny a pound, baba, only a penny a pound.
Reassured many times as to the price of those plums, Tota cuddledhimself down to sleep. The two sleek, white well-bullocks in thecourtyard were steadily chewing the cud of their evening meal; old PirKhan squatted at the head of Holden's horse, his police sabre acrosshis knees, pulling drowsily at a big water-pipe that croaked like abull-frog in a pond. Ameera's mother sat spinning in the lowerverandah, and the wooden gate was shut and barred. The music of amarriage-procession came to the roof above the gentle hum of the city,and a string of flying-foxes crossed the face of the low moon.
'I have prayed,' said Ameera after a long pause, 'I have prayed for twothings. First, that I may die in thy stead if thy death is demanded, andin the second that I may die in the place of the child. I have prayed tothe Prophet and to Beebee Miriam [the Virgin Mary]. Thinkest thou eitherwill hear?'
'From thy lips who would not hear the lightest word?'
'I asked for straight talk, and thou hast given me sweet talk. Will myprayers be heard?'
'How can I say? God is very good.'
'Of that I am not sure. Listen now. When I die, or the child dies, whatis thy fate? Living, thou wilt return to the bold white mem-log, forkind calls to kind.'
'Not always.'
'With a woman, no; with a man it is otherwise. Thou wilt in this life,later on, go back to thine own folk. That I could almost endure, forI should be dead. But in thy very death thou wilt be taken away to astrange place and a paradise that I do not know.'
'Will it be paradise?'
'Surely, for who would harm thee? But we two--I and the child--shall beelsewhere, and we cannot come to thee, nor canst thou come to us. In theold days, before the child was born, I did not think of these things;but now I think of them always. It is very hard talk.'
'It will fall as it will fall. To-morrow we do not know, but to-day andlove we know well. Surely we are happy now.'
'So happy that it were well to make our happiness assured. And thyBeebee Miriam should listen to me; for she is also a woman. But then shewould envy me! It is not seemly for men to worship a woman.'
Holden laughed aloud at Ameera's little spasm of jealousy.
'Is it not seemly? Why didst thou not turn me from worship of thee,then?'
'Thou a worshipper! And of me? My king, for all thy sweet words, well Iknow that I am thy servant and thy slave, and the dust under thy feet.And I would not have it otherwise. See!'
Before Holden could prevent her she stooped forward and touched hisfeet; recovering herself with a little laugh she hugged Tota closer toher bosom. Then, almost savagely--
'Is it true that the bold white mem-log live for three times the lengthof my life? Is it true that they make their marriages not before theyare old women?'
'They marry as do others--when they are women.'
'That I know, but they wed when they are twenty-five. Is that true?'
'That is true.'
'Ya illah! At twenty-five! Who would of his own will take a wife even ofeighteen? She is a woman--aging every hour. Twenty-five! I shall be anold woman at that age, and--Those mem-log remain young for ever. How Ihate them!' 'What have they to do with us?'
'I cannot tell. I know only that there may now be alive on this earth awoman ten years older than I who may come to thee and take thy love tenyears after I am an old woman, gray-headed, and the nurse of Tota's son.That is unjust and evil. They should die too.'
'Now, for all thy years thou art a child, and shalt be picked up andcarried down the staircase.'
'Tota! Have a care for Tota, my lord! Thou at least art as foolish asany babe!' Ameera tucked Tota out of harm's way in the hollow of herneck, and was carried downstairs laughing in Holden's arms, while Totaopened his eyes and smiled after the manner of the lesser angels.
He was a silent infant, and, almost before Holden could realise that hewas in the world, developed into a small gold-coloured little god andunquestioned despot of the house overlooking the city. Those were monthsof absolute happiness to Holden and Ameera--happiness withdrawn fromthe world, shut in behind the wooden gate that Pir Khan guarded. Byday Holden did his work with an immense pity for such as were not sofortunate as himself, and a sympathy for small children that amazed andamused many mothers at the little station-gatherings. At nightfall hereturned to Ameera,--Ameera, full of the wondrous doings of Tota; howhe had been seen to clap his hands together and move his fingers withintention and purpose--which was manifestly a miracle--how later, he hadof his own initiative crawled out of his low bedstead on to the floorand swayed on both feet for the space of three breaths.
'And they were long breaths, for my heart stood still with delight,'said Ameera.
Then Tota took the beasts into his councils--the well-bullocks, thelittle gray squirrels, the mongoose that lived in a hole near the well,and especially Mian Mittu, the parrot, whose tail he grievously pulled,and Mian Mittu screamed till Ameera and Holden arrived.
'O villain! Child of strength! This to thy brother on the house-top!Tobah, tobah! Fie! Fie! But I know a charm to make him wise as Suleimanand Aflatoun [Solomon and Plato]. Now look,' said Ameera. She drew froman embroidered bag a handful of almonds. 'See! we count seven. In thename of God!'
She placed Mian Mittu, very angry and rumpled, on the top of his cage,and seating herself between the babe and the bird she cracked and peeledan almond less white than her teeth. 'This is a true charm, my life, anddo not laugh. See! I give the parrot one half and Tota the other.' MianMittu with careful beak took his share from between Ameera's lips, andshe kissed the other half into the mouth of the child, who ate it slowlywith wondering eyes. 'This I will do each day of seven, and withoutdoubt he who is ours will be a bold speaker and wise. Eh, Tota, whatwilt thou be when thou art a man and I am gray-headed?' Tota tucked hisfat legs into adorable creases. He could crawl, but he was not goingto waste the spring of his youth in idle speech. He wanted Mian Mittu'stail to tweak.
When he was advanced to the dignity of a silver belt--which, with amagic square engraved on silver and hung round his neck, made up thegreater part of his clothing--he staggered on a perilous journey downthe garden to Pir Khan and proffered him all his jewels in exchangefor one little ride on Holden's horse, having seen his mother's motherchaffering with pedlars in the verandah. Pir Khan wept and set theuntried feet on his own gray head in sign of fealty, and brought thebold adventurer to his mother's arms, vowing that Tota would be a leaderof men ere his beard was grown.
One hot evening, while he sat on the roof between his father and motherwatching the never-ending warfare of the kites that the city boys flew,he demanded a kite of his own with Pir Khan to fly it, because he hada fear of dealing with anything larger than himself, and when Holdencalled him a 'spar
k,' he rose to his feet and answered slowly in defenceof his new-found individuality, 'Hum'park nahin hai. Hum admi hai [I amno spark, but a man].'
The protest made Holden choke and devote himself very seriously to aconsideration of Tota's future. He need hardly have taken the trouble.The delight of that life was too perfect to endure. Therefore it wastaken away as many things are taken away in India--suddenly and withoutwarning. The little lord of the house, as Pir Khan called him, grewsorrowful and complained of pains who had never known the meaning ofpain. Ameera, wild with terror, watched him through the night, andin the dawning of the second day the life was shaken out of him byfever--the seasonal autumn fever. It seemed altogether impossiblethat he could die, and neither Ameera nor Holden at first believed theevidence of the little body on the bedstead. Then Ameera beat her headagainst the wall and would have flung herself down the well in thegarden had Holden not restrained her by main force.
One mercy only was granted to Holden. He rode to his office in broaddaylight and found waiting him an unusually heavy mail that demandedconcentrated attention and hard work. He was not, however, alive to thiskindness of the gods.
III
The first shock of a bullet is no more than a brisk pinch. The wreckedbody does not send in its protest to the soul till ten or fifteenseconds later. Holden realised his pain slowly, exactly as he hadrealised his happiness, and with the same imperious necessity for hidingall trace of it. In the beginning he only felt that there had been aloss, and that Ameera needed comforting, where she sat with her head onher knees shivering as Mian Mittu from the house-top called, Tota! Tota!Tota! Later all his world and the daily life of it rose up to hurt him.It was an outrage that any one of the children at the band-stand in theevening should be alive and clamorous, when his own child lay dead. Itwas more than mere pain when one of them touched him, and stories toldby over-fond fathers of their children's latest performances cut him tothe quick. He could not declare his pain. He had neither help, comfort,nor sympathy; and Ameera at the end of each weary day would lead himthrough the hell of self-questioning reproach which is reserved forthose who have lost a child, and believe that with a little--just alittle--more care it might have been saved.
'Perhaps,' Ameera would say, 'I did not take sufficient heed. Did I, ordid I not? The sun on the roof that day when he played so long aloneand I was--ahi! braiding my hair--it may be that the sun then bred thefever. If I had warned him from the sun he might have lived. But, oh mylife, say that I am guiltless! Thou knowest that I loved him as I lovethee. Say that there is no blame on me, or I shall die--I shall die!'
'There is no blame,--before God, none. It was written and how could wedo aught to save? What has been, has been. Let it go, beloved.'
'He was all my heart to me. How can I let the thought go when my armtells me every night that he is not here? Ahi! Ahi! O Tota, come back tome--come back again, and let us be all together as it was before!'
'Peace, peace! For thine own sake, and for mine also, if thou lovestme--rest.'
'By this I know thou dost not care; and how shouldst thou? The white menhave hearts of stone and souls of iron. Oh, that I had married a man ofmine own people--though he beat me--and had never eaten the bread of analien!'
'Am I an alien--mother of my son?'
'What else--Sahib?... Oh, forgive me--forgive! The death has driven memad. Thou art the life of my heart, and the light of my eyes, and thebreath of my life, and--and I have put thee from me, though it was butfor a moment. If thou goest away, to whom shall I look for help? Do notbe angry. Indeed, it was the pain that spoke and not thy slave.'
'I know, I know. We be two who were three. The greater need thereforethat we should be one.'
They were sitting on the roof as of custom. The night was a warm one inearly spring, and sheet-lightning was dancing on the horizon to a brokentune played by far-off thunder. Ameera settled herself in Holden's arms.
'The dry earth is lowing like a cow for the rain, and I--I am afraid. Itwas not like this when we counted the stars. But thou lovest me as muchas before, though a bond is taken away? Answer!'
'I love more because a new bond has come out of the sorrow that we haveeaten together, and that thou knowest.'
'Yea, I knew,' said Ameera in a very small whisper. 'But it is good tohear thee say so, my life, who art so strong to help. I will be a childno more, but a woman and an aid to thee. Listen! Give me my sitar and Iwill sing bravely.'
She took the light silver-studded sitar and began a song of the greathero Rajah Rasalu. The hand failed on the strings, the tune halted,checked, and at a low note turned off to the poor little nursery-rhymeabout the wicked crow--
And the wild plums grow in the jungle, only a penny a pound. Only a penny a pound, baba--only . . .
Then came the tears, and the piteous rebellion against fate till sheslept, moaning a little in her sleep, with the right arm thrown clearof the body as though it protected something that was not there. Itwas after this night that life became a little easier for Holden. Theever-present pain of loss drove him into his work, and the work repaidhim by filling up his mind for nine or ten hours a day. Ameera sat alonein the house and brooded, but grew happier when she understood thatHolden was more at ease, according to the custom of women. They touchedhappiness again, but this time with caution.
'It was because we loved Tota that he died. The jealousy of God was uponus,' said Ameera. 'I have hung up a large black jar before our window toturn the evil eye from us, and we must make no protestations of delight,but go softly underneath the stars, lest God find us out. Is that notgood talk, worthless one?'
She had shifted the accent on the word that means 'beloved,' in proofof the sincerity of her purpose. But the kiss that followed the newchristening was a thing that any deity might have envied. They wentabout henceforward saying, 'It is naught, it is naught;' and hoping thatall the Powers heard.
The Powers were busy on other things. They had allowed thirty millionpeople four years of plenty wherein men fed well and the crops werecertain, and the birth-rate rose year by year; the districts reported apurely agricultural population varying from nine hundred to two thousandto the square mile of the overburdened earth; and the Member for LowerTooting, wandering about India in pot-hat and frock-coat, talked largelyof the benefits of British rule and suggested as the one thing needfulthe establishment of a duly qualified electoral system and a generalbestowal of the franchise. His long-suffering hosts smiled and made himwelcome, and when he paused to admire, with pretty picked words, theblossom of the blood-red dhak-tree that had flowered untimely for a signof what was coming, they smiled more than ever.
It was the Deputy Commissioner of Kot-Kumharsen, staying at the club fora day, who lightly told a tale that made Holden's blood run cold as heoverheard the end.
'He won't bother any one any more. Never saw a man so astonished in mylife. By Jove, I thought he meant to ask a question in the House aboutit. Fellow-passenger in his ship--dined next him--bowled over by choleraand died in eighteen hours. You needn't laugh, you fellows. The Memberfor Lower Tooting is awfully angry about it; but he's more scared. Ithink he's going to take his enlightened self out of India.'
'I'd give a good deal if he were knocked over. It might keep a fewvestrymen of his kidney to their own parish. But what's this aboutcholera? It's full early for anything of that kind,' said the warden ofan unprofitable salt-lick.
'Don't know,' said the Deputy Commissioner reflectively. 'We've gotlocusts with us. There's sporadic cholera all along the north--at leastwe're calling it sporadic for decency's sake. The spring crops are shortin five districts, and nobody seems to know where the rains are. It'snearly March now. I don't want to scare anybody, but it seems to me thatNature's going to audit her accounts with a big red pencil this summer.'
'Just when I wanted to take leave, too!' said a voice across the room.
'There won't be much leave this year, but there ought to be a greatdeal of promotion. I've come in to persuade the Gove
rnment to put my petcanal on the list of famine-relief works. It's an ill-wind that blows nogood. I shall get that canal finished at last.'
'Is it the old programme then,' said Holden; 'famine, fever, andcholera?'
'Oh no. Only local scarcity and an unusual prevalence of seasonalsickness. You'll find it all in the reports if you live till next year.You're a lucky chap. YOU haven't got a wife to send out of harm's way.The hill-stations ought to be full of women this year.'
'I think you're inclined to exaggerate the talk in the bazars' said ayoung civilian in the Secretariat. 'Now I have observed--'
'I daresay you have,' said the Deputy Commissioner, 'but you've a greatdeal more to observe, my son. In the meantime, I wish to observe toyou--' and he drew him aside to discuss the construction of the canalthat was so dear to his heart. Holden went to his bungalow and beganto understand that he was not alone in the world, and also that he wasafraid for the sake of another,--which is the most soul-satisfying fearknown to man.
Two months later, as the Deputy had foretold, Nature began to audit heraccounts with a red pencil. On the heels of the spring-reapings came acry for bread, and the Government, which had decreed that no man shoulddie of want, sent wheat. Then came the cholera from all four quarters ofthe compass. It struck a pilgrim-gathering of half a million at a sacredshrine. Many died at the feet of their god; the others broke and ranover the face of the land carrying the pestilence with them. It smote awalled city and killed two hundred a day. The people crowded thetrains, hanging on to the footboards and squatting on the roofs ofthe carriages, and the cholera followed them, for at each station theydragged out the dead and the dying. They died by the roadside, and thehorses of the Englishmen shied at the corpses in the grass. The rainsdid not come, and the earth turned to iron lest man should escape deathby hiding in her. The English sent their wives away to the hills andwent about their work, coming forward as they were bidden to fill thegaps in the fighting-line. Holden, sick with fear of losing his chiefesttreasure on earth, had done his best to persuade Ameera to go away withher mother to the Himalayas.
'Why should I go?' said she one evening on the roof.
'There is sickness, and people are dying, and all the white mem-log havegone.'
'All of them?'
'All--unless perhaps there remain some old scald-head who vexes herhusband's heart by running risk of death.'
'Nay; who stays is my sister, and thou must not abuse her, for I will bea scald-head too. I am glad all the bold mem-log are gone.'
'Do I speak to a woman or a babe? Go to the hills and I will see toit that thou goest like a queen's daughter. Think, child. In ared-lacquered bullock-cart, veiled and curtained, with brass peacocksupon the pole and red cloth hangings. I will send two orderlies forguard, and--'
'Peace! Thou art the babe in speaking thus. What use are those toys tome? HE would have patted the bullocks and played with the housings. Forhis sake, perhaps,--thou hast made me very English--I might have gone.Now, I will not. Let the mem-log run.'
'Their husbands are sending them, beloved.'
'Very good talk. Since when hast thou been my husband to tell me what todo? I have but borne thee a son. Thou art only all the desire of my soulto me. How shall I depart when I know that if evil befall thee by thebreadth of so much as my littlest finger-nail--is that not small?--Ishould be aware of it though I were in paradise. And here, this summerthou mayest die--ai, janee, die! and in dying they might call to tendthee a white woman, and she would rob me in the last of thy love!'
'But love is not born in a moment or on a death-bed!'
'What dost thou know of love, stoneheart? She would take thy thanks atleast and, by God and the Prophet and Beebee Miriam the mother of thyProphet, that I will never endure. My lord and my love, let there be nomore foolish talk of going away. Where thou art, I am. It is enough.'She put an arm round his neck and a hand on his mouth.
There are not many happinesses so complete as those that are snatchedunder the shadow of the sword. They sat together and laughed, callingeach other openly by every pet name that could move the wrath of thegods. The city below them was locked up in its own torments. Sulphurfires blazed in the streets; the conches in the Hindu temples screamedand bellowed, for the gods were inattentive in those days. There was aservice in the great Mahomedan shrine, and the call to prayer from theminarets was almost unceasing. They heard the wailing in the houses ofthe dead, and once the shriek of a mother who had lost a child and wascalling for its return. In the gray dawn they saw the dead borneout through the city gates, each litter with its own little knot ofmourners. Wherefore they kissed each other and shivered.
It was a red and heavy audit, for the land was very sick and needed alittle breathing-space ere the torrent of cheap life should flood itanew. The children of immature fathers and undeveloped mothers made noresistance. They were cowed and sat still, waiting till the sword shouldbe sheathed in November if it were so willed. There were gaps amongthe English, but the gaps were filled. The work of superintendingfamine-relief, cholera-sheds, medicine-distribution, and what littlesanitation was possible, went forward because it was so ordered.
Holden had been told to keep himself in readiness to move to replace thenext man who should fall. There were twelve hours in each day when hecould not see Ameera, and she might die in three. He was consideringwhat his pain would be if he could not see her for three months, orif she died out of his sight. He was absolutely certain that her deathwould be demanded--so certain that when he looked up from the telegramand saw Pir Khan breathless in the doorway, he laughed aloud. 'And?'said he,--
'When there is a cry in the night and the spirit flutters into thethroat, who has a charm that will restore? Come swiftly, Heaven-born! Itis the black cholera.'
Holden galloped to his home. The sky was heavy with clouds, for thelong-deferred rains were near and the heat was stifling. Ameera's mothermet him in the courtyard, whimpering, 'She is dying. She is nursingherself into death. She is all but dead. What shall I do, sahib?'
Ameera was lying in the room in which Tota had been born. She made nosign when Holden entered, because the human soul is a very lonelything and, when it is getting ready to go away, hides itself in a mistyborderland where the living may not follow. The black cholera does itswork quietly and without explanation. Ameera was being thrust out oflife as though the Angel of Death had himself put his hand upon her. Thequick breathing seemed to show that she was either afraid or in pain,but neither eyes nor mouth gave any answer to Holden's kisses. There wasnothing to be said or done. Holden could only wait and suffer. The firstdrops of the rain began to fall on the roof, and he could hear shouts ofjoy in the parched city.
The soul came back a little and the lips moved. Holden bent down tolisten. 'Keep nothing of mine,' said Ameera. 'Take no hair from my head.SHE would make thee burn it later on. That flame I should feel. Lower!Stoop lower! Remember only that I was thine and bore thee a son. Thoughthou wed a white woman to-morrow, the pleasure of receiving in thy armsthy first son is taken from thee for ever. Remember me when thy son isborn--the one that shall carry thy name before all men. His misfortunesbe on my head. I bear witness--I bear witness'--the lips were formingthe words on his ear--'that there is no God but--thee, beloved!'
Then she died. Holden sat still, and all thought was taken fromhim,--till he heard Ameera's mother lift the curtain.
'Is she dead, sahib?'
'She is dead.'
'Then I will mourn, and afterwards take an inventory of the furniture inthis house. For that will be mine. The sahib does not mean to resume it?It is so little, so very little, sahib, and I am an old woman. I wouldlike to lie softly.'
'For the mercy of God be silent a while. Go out and mourn where I cannothear.'
'Sahib, she will be buried in four hours.'
'I know the custom. I shall go ere she is taken away. That matter is inthy hands. Look to it, that the bed on which--on which she lies--'
'Aha! That beautiful red-lacquered bed. I
have long desired--'
'That the bed is left here untouched for my disposal. All else in thehouse is thine. Hire a cart, take everything, go hence, and beforesunrise let there be nothing in this house but that which I have orderedthee to respect.'
'I am an old woman. I would stay at least for the days of mourning, andthe rains have just broken. Whither shall I go?'
'What is that to me? My order is that there is a going. The house-gearis worth a thousand rupees and my orderly shall bring thee a hundredrupees to-night.'
'That is very little. Think of the cart-hire.'
'It shall be nothing unless thou goest, and with speed. O woman, gethence and leave me with my dead!'
The mother shuffled down the staircase, and in her anxiety to take stockof the house-fittings forgot to mourn. Holden stayed by Ameera's sideand the rain roared on the roof. He could not think connectedly byreason of the noise, though he made many attempts to do so. Then foursheeted ghosts glided dripping into the room and stared at him throughtheir veils. They were the washers of the dead. Holden left the roomand went out to his horse. He had come in a dead, stifling calm throughankle-deep dust. He found the courtyard a rain-lashed pond alive withfrogs; a torrent of yellow water ran under the gate, and a roaring winddrove the bolts of the rain like buckshot against the mud-walls. PirKhan was shivering in his little hut by the gate, and the horse wasstamping uneasily in the water.
'I have been told the sahib's order,' said Pir Khan. 'It is well. Thishouse is now desolate. I go also, for my monkey-face would be a reminderof that which has been. Concerning the bed, I will bring that to thyhouse yonder in the morning; but remember, sahib, it will be to thee aknife turning in a green wound. I go upon a pilgrimage, and I willtake no money. I have grown fat in the protection of the Presence whosesorrow is my sorrow. For the last time I hold his stirrup.'
He touched Holden's foot with both hands and the horse sprang out intothe road, where the creaking bamboos were whipping the sky and all thefrogs were chuckling. Holden could not see for the rain in his face. Heput his hands before his eyes and muttered--
'Oh you brute! You utter brute!'
The news of his trouble was already in his bungalow. He read theknowledge in his butler's eyes when Ahmed Khan brought in food, andfor the first and last time in his life laid a hand upon his master'sshoulder, saying, 'Eat, sahib, eat. Meat is good against sorrow. I alsohave known. Moreover the shadows come and go, sahib; the shadows comeand go. These be curried eggs.'
Holden could neither eat nor sleep. The heavens sent down eight inchesof rain in that night and washed the earth clean. The waters tore downwalls, broke roads, and scoured open the shallow graves on the Mahomedanburying-ground. All next day it rained, and Holden sat still in hishouse considering his sorrow. On the morning of the third day hereceived a telegram which said only, 'Ricketts, Myndonie. Dying. Holdenrelieve. Immediate.' Then he thought that before he departed he wouldlook at the house wherein he had been master and lord. There was a breakin the weather, and the rank earth steamed with vapour.
He found that the rains had torn down the mud pillars of the gateway,and the heavy wooden gate that had guarded his life hung lazily from onehinge. There was grass three inches high in the courtyard; Pir Khan'slodge was empty, and the sodden thatch sagged between the beams. A graysquirrel was in possession of the verandah, as if the house had beenuntenanted for thirty years instead of three days. Ameera's mother hadremoved everything except some mildewed matting. The tick-tick of thelittle scorpions as they hurried across the floor was the only soundin the house. Ameera's room and the other one where Tota had lived wereheavy with mildew; and the narrow staircase leading to the roof wasstreaked and stained with rain-borne mud. Holden saw all thesethings, and came out again to meet in the road Durga Dass, hislandlord,--portly, affable, clothed in white muslin, and driving aCee-spring buggy. He was overlooking his property to see how the roofsstood the stress of the first rains.
'I have heard,' said he, 'you will not take this place any more, sahib?'
'What are you going to do with it?'
'Perhaps I shall let it again.'
'Then I will keep it on while I am away.'
Durga Dass was silent for some time. 'You shall not take it on, sahib,'he said. 'When I was a young man I also--, but to-day I am a member ofthe Municipality. Ho! Ho! No. When the birds have gone what need to keepthe nest? I will have it pulled down--the timber will sell for somethingalways. It shall be pulled down, and the Municipality shall make a roadacross, as they desire, from the burning-ghat to the city wall, so thatno man may say where this house stood.'