CHAPTER XVII
BREAKING BOUNDS
Honor lived in dread of Captain Dalton's return to the Station.
Did he remember anything of what had passed between them in the hourwhich she had spent at his bedside? Or had he completely forgotten theepisode and her confession? She would have been glad to think he hadforgotten, for she had brought herself to believe that he had beenlabouring under the influence of delusions. If it were true that heloved her, his manner would have been very different in the dayspreceding his illness. True, she had been aloof; but men in love are notusually balked by such trifles as had stood in his way.
No. He had been dreaming.
His fever-stricken brain had been wandering among unrealities, and herface had filled the imagination of the moment. Facts and fancies hadintermingled, till they had misled him in his delirium into believingthat it was she he loved.
The truth was, she argued to herself, that he loved nobody. It wascertain that a woman by her treachery and double dealing had killed hisbetter nature, or drugged it; and his capacity for love and trust hadgone. If it were not so, he would have loved Joyce who was beautiful andwinning, and have respected her because of her ingenuous innocence. Itwas a thousand pities that such a strong character had been tricked andperverted!
And now that there was no one to monopolise his leisure moments, it wasto be hoped that he would, on his return, confine himself to his musicand the treatise he was at work upon. It would be a relief, Honor felt,if he would only continue to keep out of her way; otherwise, life wouldbe intolerable. It was the acme of humiliation to have discoveredherself in love with a man who had no need of her whatever! and thesooner she could find something to do outside the District, either in ahospital or in connection with some charitable organisation, the betterit would be for her peace of mind and self-respect.
However, when she broached the subject of work away from home, herparents would hear nothing of it.
"Our only child, and not to live with us!" Mrs. Bright exclaimed,horrified. "What is the use of having a daughter if we are to let herleave us--except to be married?"
"I shall never marry. I have no vocation in that line, so should leadsome sort of useful life."
"And isn't your life useful? What should I do alone when your father isin camp? If either of us was ill, whom do you think we would look to,but you? Surely, Honey, you are not bored with your own home?"
"Never, Mother dear! I am too happy with you and Dad. But most girls dosomething now-a-days. It is only that I feel it such a waste of energyto stay at home doing nothing but please myself."
"You have your duty to us, and your 'duty to your neighbour'."
"Which latter consists of meeting him collectively at the Club, helpingto amuse him with tennis and golf, and listening to a lot of scandal!"
"My dear! since when have you turned cynical? You are, I am sure, agreat comfort to Mrs. Meek; and the families of our servants simplyworship you."
"For converting my cast-off garments to their use in winter. My old navyskirt has certainly made an excellent pair of pyjamas for Kareem's younghopeful, and the sweeper's youngster looks like nothing on earth inbloomers and my old golf jersey!"
"The _saice_, too, is delighted with those jackets you turned out frommy old red flannel petticoat. The twins are as snug in them as a pair ofkittens," laughed Mrs. Bright.
"I want to hear no more of that rot about your wanting work while I amabove ground," said Mr. Bright, looking up from his newspaper andregarding his daughter severely. "It will be time enough to let you gowhen some fellow comes along and wants to carry you off; but to let yougo and tinker at other people's jobs is not at all to my liking when youhave a home and duties to perform with regard to it."
And that was the end of all argument. Not having a combative nature, nora taste for debate, Honor adjourned to the store cupboard and gaveKareem the stores for the day.
"Please be obdurate in the matter of the _ghi_[17], Honey," was hermother's parting injunction. "He would swim in it if you allowed him.Two _chattaks_ for curry are ample. The dear rascal is not above savingthe surplus, if he gets it, and selling it back to me."
[Footnote 17: Butter converted into oil by boiling.]
"Memsahib's orders" admitted of no palava, and Kareem who was faithfulunto death, but not above commercial dishonesty, submitted to themandate with the air of a martyr. "Whatever I am told, that will I do;but if the food is not to the sahib's liking, I have nothing to say."Having expressed his views on the matter of his restrictions he withdrewwith his tray full of stores, a bearded, black-browed ruffian inappearance, clad in a jacket and loin-cloth, but of a character capableof the highest self-sacrifice and devotion.
It was still early enough after her morning's duties were over, for atramp along the Panipara Jhil for snipe, the sport Honor most enjoyedand at which she was gradually becoming proficient. She would be allalone, that bright January day, as Tommy, her faithful and devotedlover, was prevented by his duties from waiting on her.
Jack, too, was at work down at the Courts,--not that he was likely tooffer his escort in these days of his unhappy bondage to Mrs. Fox; butHonor's thoughts strayed persistently to him with anxious concern. Hehad returned from Calcutta after Christmas looking jaded and depressed.Tommy had been unable to make anything of him till, one day, hisattention was caught by a paragraph in the _Statesman_ concerning anapplication for a dissolution of marriage from her husband, on the usualgrounds, by Mrs. Barrington Fox.
"Good God! a walkover for her!" he exclaimed in consternation. Beingfull of concern for Jack, he forthwith proceeded with the news to MissBright, and they lamented together in bitterness over the young man'simpending ruin. "She has played her cards like a sharper, and I have nodoubt that that old idiot, Jack, is done for," Tommy observed.
"But why should he marry her?" Honor protested. "Two wrongs don't make aright."
"He feels, I suppose, in honour bound to marry her."
"In honour bound to punish himself by rewarding her dishonesty?"
"He shared it."
"Hers was the greater sin. She tempted him. Think of her age and his,her experience of life and his!--I don't see it!"
"Men have a special code of honour, it seems."
"Tommy, it is a case of kidnapping. Jack's only a foolish, weak boy,deserving of punishment, but it isn't fair that the punishment should belife-long!"
"He is pretty sick of himself, I can vouch for that."
Jack's undoing was a source of depression to Honor Bright, and thequestion of how to save him was with her continually.
It was a cold day with a pleasant warmth in the sunshine as Honor swungalong the roads on foot, her gun under her arm, and a bag of cartridgesslung from her shoulder. She was dressed in a Norfolk jacket and shortskirt of tweed, with top boots as a protection from snakes, and her freeand graceful carriage was a beautiful thing to see. So thought thedoctor as he watched her from behind a pillar in his bungalow verandah.
He had returned by the last train the previous night a few days beforehe was expected, and, as yet, no one besides his servants and the_locum_ knew of it.
When Honor had passed he began making hasty preparations to go out. Hisshot gun was taken down from a rack, examined, cleaned, and oiledafresh; cartridges were dropped into his pocket; thick boots suitable tomuddy places were pulled on, accompanied by much impatience and a fewswear words.
Would he have the motor? Yes--no! The motor could be taken by a mechanicto a certain point by the Panipara Jhil and left there for hisconvenience.
In the meantime, Honor tramped through the fields taking all the shortcuts she knew, and was soon on the fringe of the grass in completeenjoyment of the wildness of the scene and its solitude. The slantingrays of the morning sun filtering through the trees, cast checkeredlights upon the lilies and weeds that floated on the water. Littleislands dotted the surface, covered with rushes and date palms, the wildplum, and the _babul_--all growing thickly together. The air w
as full ofthe odour of decaying vegetation and the noise of jungle fowl, teal, andduck. The latter could be seen fluttering their pinions among the lotusflowers, and bobbing about on the surface of the water, thoroughly athome in their native element; occasionally a flock would rise and settleagain not far from the same spot, vigilant with the instinct ofapproaching danger. In the far distance, Panipara village could be seen,its dark, thatched roofs seeming to fringe the _jhil_ at its fartherverge.
Honor filled the breach of her light gun with a couple of No. 8cartridges, and warily skirted the brink. In places the pools were soshallow that a man might have waded knee deep from island to island; butthe soft mud was treacherous, and flat-bottomed canoes were generallyhired at Panipara by sportsmen who went duck-shooting. As Honor wasafter snipe, she kept to the banks and picked her way fearlessly alongthe tangled paths, her high boots a protection from thorns and snakes.
Birds sang lustily in the trees; the throaty trill of the tufted bulbulsounding inexpressibly sweet,--the thyial, too, like a glorified canary,made music for her by the way.
For nearly an hour Honor wandered over the marshy ground of both banks,often imagining she heard footsteps and rustlings among the long grassthat screened the view. The sounds ceased when she paused to listen, soshe concluded that her imagination had played her false. At length, justas she was beginning to despair of success, a couple of snipe rose likea flash from almost under her feet, and were gone before she could raiseher gun to her shoulder. Immediately she was startled by the sound of ashot fired somewhere in her neighbourhood! She had no idea that any oneelse was out shooting that morning. She looked around. Beyond a thinveil of smoke hanging over the water, there was nothing to be seen.
Who could it be, but a native _shikari_?--for there were a few in theDistrict licensed to carry firearms, who supplied the residents of theStation with birds for their tables. Satisfied with her theory, shepressed on a little farther and was rewarded by another chance at asnipe. As the bird headed for a clump of bushes, she fired, andsimultaneously with her shot there came an involuntary cry--a sharpexclamation of pain, and for a second she was rooted to the spot,forgetting everything but the fear that someone at hand had been hit.
Dropping her gun in the grass, she ran forward in dismay, brushed asidethe screen of weeds and jungle, and came face to face with CaptainDalton leaning against the trunk of a tree, holding his wrist.
"Oh!--have I hurt you?" she cried in an intensity of alarm rather thanof surprise at finding him there, when she believed him at least somehundreds of miles away.
Dalton never looked at her, nor replied, but releasing his wrist,allowed the blood to drip to the ground from a trivial wound. A strayshot from the many in the cartridge had scratched the skin upon a vein,and the occasion was serving him well.
But out of all proportion to the injury was his pallor and the emotionthat swept his face and held him quivering and tongue-tied.
"What can I do?" Honor cried in her distress. The sight of blood wasenough to rend her tender heart; and to know that it had been shed by anact of hers, shook her to the foundations of her being.
Dalton produced a handkerchief in silence and passing it to her, allowedher to bandage the wound as well as she could. He was concerned onlywith watching the beautiful, sunburnt fingers that moved tremblingly toaid him, or the sympathetic face that bent over the task.
When the bandage was completed, their eyes met, and the same momentHonor was in his arms, clasped close to his breast while he murmured hisadoration.
"I love you!--my God! how I love you! and I want you so! Oh, my preciouslittle girl!--my Honey--my love!"
Honor asked no questions, but welcomed, with a sob of joy, the gift oflove that flooded her heart to overflowing. She clung to his neck withloving abandonment and yielded her lips to his generously. With hergreat nature, she could do nothing by halves, so gave of her love withno grudging hand.
"Since when have you loved me, my Sweet?" he asked in tones that weremusic to her ears.
"From the moment you kissed my hand and called me 'brave'!"
"And yet you plunged that dagger in my heart when you said in myhearing--'I have no interest in Captain Dalton'?"
Honor recalled her conversation with Joyce and blushed. "It was nottrue!" she confessed.
"I deserved it--and more!" he said humbly with suffering in his eyes.
"And when did _you_ begin to--care?" she asked shyly.
"From the moment I looked into your eyes at my bungalow, and sawheroism, truth, and purity."
It was sweet hearing, though she was convinced that he exaggerated herqualities. "Why then did you hide it so long?"
"I was fighting the biggest fight of my life."
"And have you won?"
"Won?" he laughed harshly. "No. I have lost, but it's worth it," kissingher defiantly. "Can you guess how much I love you? When I was ill I usedto dream of you. I even thought you came to me and said you loved me!"
"I did. I was beside you, but you were delirious with fever, and I wassure afterwards that what you said meant nothing."
"You were there? I often wondered about it, but dared not ask for fearof disillusionment. The dream was so dear!"
"And when you recovered, you never tried to see me!"
"I was fighting my big fight which I have lost," he returned recklessly.
"So I tried to teach myself to forget."
"And you couldn't?"
"Oh, no. It was too late!" she sighed happily.
"Blessed fidelity! and now you confess that you love me. Say it!"
"I love you!" A few minutes passed in silence while he demonstrated histransports of delight in true lover fashion.
"When you were angry with me over Elsie Meek's case, I went mad and dida succession of hideous things. How can you love such a monster?"
Honor drew his face closer and laid her cheek to his.
"I hated everybody--I even tried to hate you, but it was impossible. Iresented the happiness of other men. I tried my best to break up a man'shome after partaking of his hospitality. Do you care to kiss me now?"
Honor kissed him tenderly. "I watched it all with such suffering!"
"You did? God forgive me! Did you know that it is not to my credit thatMrs. Meredith is an honest woman today?"
"I know all about it."
"She told you? I might have known it! Women like Joyce Meredith talk.But she is a good little woman. As for me!--I am unfit to kiss yourboot. Even now, I am the greatest blackguard unhung,--the meanestcoward, for I cannot bring myself to renounce my heart's desire!" Heheld her from him and looked into her face with haggard eyes. "Send meaway! Say you will have nothing to do with me!--I shall then trouble youno more."
With a happy laugh Honor flung herself on his breast. "Send youaway?--now?" The thing was clearly impossible. And why should she?However wickedly he had behaved in the past it mattered nothing to her,for the present was hers and all the future. What a glorious prospect!
"You haven't the foggiest idea what a scoundrel I am!"
"Then I must have a special leaning towards scoundrels!" she replied,her face hidden on his shoulder.
"God knows the biggest thing in my life is my love for you," he saidbrokenly. "My dream-girl! If I lose you, I lose everything. You will notfail me, Honey?" he asked solemnly. "If all the world should wish topart us, you will still hold to me?"
"I could not change. Whatever happens, I shall always love you, even ifall the world were against you."
He was not satisfied. For many minutes he held her to his heart,covering her face with passionate, lingering kisses.
"And all this while we are forgetting that your wrist is hurt!" sheexclaimed.
"Damn my wrist! Look at me. Your eyes cannot lie!"
Honor lifted her eyes, clear and sweet to his, full of the love andloyalty she felt, and saw an unutterable sadness in the depths of hissoul. He should have been rejoicing, yet he was like a man burdened witha great remorse.
"Say
, 'Brian, I am yours till death.'"
Honor repeated the words gravely.
He continued: "'I swear that, when you are ready to take me away, I willgo with you, and none shall hold me back.' Say that."
Honor said it faithfully. "I don't care if we have the quietest ofweddings," she added, "so long as it is in a church."
After a pregnant pause, he said tentatively, "Mr. Meek, I dare say,could tie the knot."
"When may I tell Mother?"
"Will she keep it to herself?"
"She will tell Father, of course."
"Can't we have our happiness all to ourselves for a little while?"
Honor thought she could understand his deep sensitiveness of criticismand questions--he was so unlike all the other men she knew--andconsented. Moreover, she loved him and wanted to please him. There wasno wrong in keeping secret what concerned themselves so closely, till hewas ready to make it public. Her own dear mother, from whom she had keptnothing in her life, would be the first to understand and appreciate hermotive, as she was the most sympathetic woman in the world, and wantednothing so much as her child's happiness.
"I will do exactly as you wish, dear," she said, glad to offer an earlyproof of her great affection.
Dalton kissed her rapturously, in unceasing wonderment at hercondescension in loving one so utterly unworthy. He seemed unable tograsp the truth, and kept asking her repeatedly for assurances.
The heat of the sun's rays now penetrating their shadowed retreat andstriking down upon her bared head, awakened Honor to a sense of time andthe realisation that it was midday.
"When shall I hold you in my arms again?" he asked before finallyreleasing her.
"The question is, where?--if it is to be kept a secret between us,only?" she asked wistfully, compunction already pulling at herconscience. Secrecy savoured of intrigue, and all things underhand wereabominable to her.
"I am so glad my bungalow is so near to yours--only the two gardens anda hedge between! I might almost signal to you to meet me somewhere?" hesaid hesitatingly as though expecting a rebuke.
"No, Brian. I'll have nothing to do with signalling," she saiddefinitely. "We'll meet every day at the Club if you like, and leave therest to chance."
"I could not build my hopes on chance. It would drive me crazy, as I amnot a patient man. Can't I see you alone--say in the lane--afterdinner?"
"No." She shook her head decidedly. "I couldn't do things by stealth! Icannot deceive--it's no use expecting it of me!"
"I knew that; and it's that which I worship in you! But I am an exactingand selfish brute. Well!--I'll not complain, Sweetheart!" He releasedher, still with the gloom of a profound sadness in his eyes, and,together, they walked back to find his car.