CHAPTER XXXIII.
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 tothe Kresneys' bungalow, on the shoulders of four long-sufferingjhampanis, who murmured a little among themselves, without rancour orvexation, concerning the perplexing ways of Memsahibs in general. Forthe native of India the supreme riddle of creation is the English"Mem."
They had but just cast aside their liveries and, squatting on theirheels in a patch of shadow, had embarked on leisurely preparations forthe evening hookah and the evening meal. The scent of curry was intheir nostrils; the regular "flip-flap" of the deftly turned chupattiewas in their ears; when a flying order had come from the house--"TheMemsahib goes forth in haste!" With resigned mutterings andhead-shakings they had responded to the call of duty, and the_mate_,[30] who was a philosopher, had a word of comfort for them asthey went. "Worse might have befallen, brothers, seeing that it hathpleased God to make our Memsahib light as a bird. Had it been the MissSahib, now----" A unanimous murmur testified that the Miss Sahib wouldhave been a far weightier affair!
[30] Headman.
And on this occasion they must have found their mistress even lighterthan a bird; for instead of lying back among her cushions, she satupright, in strained anticipation, pressing between her hands themiraculous envelope which was to buy back for her all that she had solightly flung away.
Honor had spoken truth when she said that Desmond was the one bigthing in Evelyn's life. Everything else about her was small as herperson, and little more effectual. But this impetuous, large-heartedhusband of hers--whose love she had been so proud to win, and hadtaken such small pains to keep--could by no means be chiselled intoproportions with the rest of the picture. He took his stand, simplyand naturally, on the heights; and if it was an effort to keep up withhim, it was a real calamity to be left behind. Understand him shecould not, and never would; but it sufficed that she saw him fearless,chivalrous, admired on all sides, and singularly good to look at. Thislast should perhaps have been set down first; for there is no denyingthat her remorse, her suffering, had been less overwhelming withoutthat unexpected vision of his face.
But things were going to be all right soon. She would never hideanything from him again--never. And the resolve may be counted untoher for righteousness, even if there could be small hope of itsfulfilment.
Such absorbing considerations crowded out all thought of Honor'sgenerosity. It was just Honor. No one else would ever give you twohundred rupees, at a moment's notice, as if it were sixpence. But youmight expect anything from Honor--that was how she was made. And theone important point was--Theo. Nothing else really mattered at all.
As Kresney's bungalow came in sight she found herself fervently hopingthat he might have gone out; that she might have to encounter nothingmore formidable than Miss Kresney, or, better still, the bearer.
But before the gate was reached, she caught sight of him in theverandah, taking his ease very completely in one of those ungainlychairs, with arms extending to long wooden leg-rests, which seem tobelong to India and no other country in the world. He had exchangedhis coat for a Japanese smoking jacket, whose collar and cuffs couldill afford to brave daylight; and his boots for slippers of Linda'smaking, whose conflicting colours might have set an oyster's teeth onedge! His own teeth were clenched upon a rank cigar; and he wasreading a paper-bound novel that she would not have touched with apair of tongs.
He had never appeared to worse advantage; and Evelyn, fresh from herhusband's air of unobtrusive neatness and distinction, was consciousof a sudden recoil--a purely physical revulsion; to which was addedthe galling thought that she owed her recent suffering and humiliationto 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. Herreturn 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 mostunexpected pleasure. _Rukho jhampan._"[31]
[31] Set down the jhampan.
But Evelyn countermanded the order so promptly that Kresney's eyebrowswent up. She handed him her note, clutching the wooden pole nervouslywith the other hand.
"I had to come out again--on business," she said, with that readymingling of the false and true which had been her undoing. "And Ithought I could leave this for Miss Kresney as I passed. Will youplease give it to her. I am sorry she is not in."
He took the envelope, and watched her while she spoke with narrowedeyes.
"You are in trouble?" The intimate note in his voice jarred for thefirst time. "Something has upset you since you left? You are quiteknocked up with all this. You ought to have been in Murree two weeksago."
And, presumably by accident, his hand came down upon her own. She drewit away with an involuntary shudder; and Kresney's sallow facedarkened.
"You have no business to say that," she rebuked him with desperatecourage; "I prefer to be with my husband till he is well enough to gotoo. You won't forget my note, will you? Good-night."
"Good-night, Mrs Desmond," he answered formally, without profferinghis hand.
As he stood watching her depart, all that was worst in him rose to thesurface and centred in his close-set eyes. "By God, you shall be sorryfor that!" he muttered.
But in mounting the steps his curiosity was awakened by the bulkinessof Linda's letter. He turned it over once or twice; pressed it betweenhis fingers and detected the crackle of new bank-notes.
"So that's it, is it? Well, I can forgive her. No doubt she had ajolly hot quarter of an hour; and I hope that fellow is enjoyinghimself now--_like hell!_" Then, without a glimmer of hesitation, heopened his sister's letter.
* * * * *
And, out in the road, Evelyn's jhampanis were experiencing fresh proofof the indubitable madness of Memsahibs.
No sooner were their faces set cheerfully homeward, than they werebrought up short by an order to turn and carry her in the oppositedirection. No destination was specified; and the road indicated ledout towards the hills. Hookahs and chupatties tugging at theirheart-strings, roused them to mild rebellion. The mate, as establishedspokesman, murmured of _khana_[32] and the lateness of the hour;adding that the road behind them led away from the Sahibs' bungalowsto the boundary of the station.
[32] Food.
But Evelyn, whose Hindustani was still a negligible quantity, made noattempt to follow the man's remarks. She reiterated her wish, addingirritably, "Make no foolish talk. It is an order!"
Those magic words, _Hukm hai_, are the insignia of authority throughthe length and breadth of India; and consoling one another with thereflection that if the Memsahib had small understanding, the Sahib wasgreat, they jogged obediently along the lonely road toward the hills.
Evelyn's order had been given on the impulse of a moment. The idea ofconfronting her husband again in less than ten minutes had overpoweredher suddenly and completely. She had only one thought--to gain-time;to screw up her courage for the ordeal; and to realise a little whatshe intended to say. It is only the strong who dare to trust that theright words will be given them.
Her interview with Kresney had unnerved her; and a lurking doubtquenched the spark of hope at her heart. Would Theo accept her tardyobedience without asking unanswerable questions. Or would he simplyput her aside, with his inexorable quietness, that was far moreterrible than any spoken word?
In all the pain and bewilderment of their short interview, nothing hadso smitten her as his recoil--first and last--from the touch of herhands. The bare possibility that he might treat her so again madereturn seem out of the question. And her unhappiness struck deeperthan the fear of the moment. For the first time she realised her owninstability of feeling and purpose; and with the realisation came anew par
alysing fear of the future--of herself.
For the first time it dawned upon her that she was unworthy of thelove and faith that had been given her in such generousmeasure;--which was proof conclusive, though she did not guess it,that Honor Meredith had not laboured in vain. To know oneself unworthyis to have achieved the first step upward. A year ago she would havebeen incapable of such knowledge; and now that it had come to her shewas afraid.
Sudden cessation of movement roused her; and the mate, turning hishead, spoke with respectful urgency.
"Protector of the Poor, it is not well to go farther. Behold the swiftgoing of the sun. Before your servants can reach the bungalow therewill be no more light, and it is against orders----The Sahib will makeangry talk."
Evelyn did not follow the whole of this appeal; but the man's anxietywas evident. She caught the words "Sahib" and "angry" with an inwardshudder; she had endured enough of the Sahib's anger for one day, andher own common-sense told her that she had behaved foolishly.
Even outlying bungalows were no longer in sight. A boundary pillargleamed ghostlike a few hundred yards ahead. The last rim of the sunhad already slipped behind the hills. Their harsh peaks black againsta sky of faint amber, had a threatening look; and darkness was racingup out of the east. The mate was right. It would be upon them almostbefore they could reach the bungalow; and to be out after sunset wasstrictly against the rules of the station.
Sudden terror clutched her; a nameless dread of the country--of thenatives--which she had never been able to shake off; a paralysingsense that she was alone in their midst--alone on the verge of night.
Fear unsteadied her voice as she answered the man. "Turn, turn atonce, and go quickly,--run; the Sahib will give _jacksheesh_--run!"
But before they could obey, a white figure sprang up from behind acluster of rocks. Quick as thought followed a flash, a report, aheart-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 asEvelyn Desmond fell back among her cushions, a shadow, that had notbeen there before, crept slowly across the shoulder of her muslindress. The oncoming darkness mattered nothing to her now; and sheherself, a mere atom of life, blown out like a candle, mattered lessthan nothing to the desert and the imperturbable hills.
But justice does not invariably tarry. The arm of the Lord is notshortened, though in these days of omniscience man has a larger faithin his own; and the Ghazi, heading post-haste through the dusk plungedunwittingly into a group of villagers and cattle returning home.
A short scuffle ensued, shouts and the tramping of feet--sounds whichbrought the flying jhampanis back in a twinkling, surcharged withvoluble valour and explanations. Resistance was useless. Moreover, tothe fanatic, death is the one great gift. With stoical indifferencethe man found himself overpowered and disarmed. Zealous villagers,unrolling turbans and kummerbunds, made fast his arms, bound himsecurely about the waist and neck, and in this ignominious fashion ledhim back to where Evelyn Desmond lay untroubled and alone.
The jhampanis shouldered their burden once more; and fell todiscussing, in lively detail, the hanging and subsequent burning thatawaited the Taker of Life, who walked unconcernedly in their midst.