Banked Fires
CHAPTER XXVII
A DIFFICULT TASK
The sun had long set and a grey dusk had fallen when Dalton, weary anddespondent, returned to the Station after a dull round of inspectionduring which he had occupied comfortless _dak_ bungalows. Lights wereappearing in many windows and were to be seen streaming from thereception rooms of the Club, where guests for the gala week were beingentertained. As he passed, he could hear the click of the billiard ballsand the sound of merry laughter. Somewhere in those lighted rooms wasHonor Bright, perhaps, shedding the sunshine of her presence on herfriends! His eyes strained wistfully to catch a glimpse of the belovedform, but in vain, for the Duranta hedge effectually obscured the view.
Three days had passed since he had fled incontinently from theimpossible conditions of his home, only to find himself compelled, whenno further excuses for his absence were to be found, to return to itbitterly disgusted with life and feverishly impatient to escapealtogether from an intolerable presence. One hope alone remained to him,and that was, that the Government would accept his offer for service atthe front.
Although in his relations towards his wife he was almost a stranger, hehad paid her the compliment of letting her know the date and hour of hisreturn; not from any impulse towards friendliness, but from aninstinctive pride of race, which made it impossible for him to slight awhite woman in the eyes of the natives. However far apart their liveswere sundered, his servants, at least, would have to respect her as theMemsahib and the mistress of his house; any other position for her--aBritish lady in India--was unthinkable.
And Mrs. Dalton was under no delusion respecting his object. The formalnote had no special meaning for her.
There was a light in the drawing-room, Dalton noticed, as he drove up tothe steps; and as he descended from his car, a servant, salaaming,informed him that the Memsahib was entertaining a lady visitor.Receiving no encouragement to become communicative, he said no more, buthurriedly assisted other domestics to minister to his master's comforts.The Sahib had no interest in the Memsahib's doings, it was plain to all;and it was greatly to be deplored that he should have saddled himselfwith her presence in his bungalow where he had so long enjoyed freedomand solitude.
In his private apartments, all was ready for Dalton's reception;refreshments were produced like magic; the lowered lights raised; and hewas able to rest and recover at his leisure from the fatigues of theday. Seated at his desk in his comfortable study, he smoked and read theletters that had accumulated in his absence while his mindsubconsciously dwelt on thoughts of Honor.
Where was she? What was she doing? How was she enduring their miserableseparation? Was it preying upon her as on him?
Would he ever have the chance to hold her in his arms again and read thetruth in her dear eyes? Or must he go to his grave with this ache ofunfulfilled longing forever denied to him?
The thought was insupportable. Every fibre of his being craved for herwith a desire so intense and compelling, that he was incapable ofconcentrating his mind on any subject.
While brooding in the deepest melancholy, a sound at his verandah doorarrested his attention. It was distinctly the _frou-frou_ of a woman'sskirts. Could it be possible that his wife was seeking to force aninterview with him?
There came a light knock on the shutters of the open door which wasscreened with a cretonne curtain.
"Come in," he said impatiently, resenting the disturbance, and thecurtain was raised to admit the diffident intruder.
It was Honor, looking very white, yet as always, brave and sweet.
"Honey!" he started to his feet deeply moved. The harshness vanishedfrom his face which was now alight with wonderment and love. Dressed ina muslin frock and straw hat, she looked simple and fresh, and yetcarried the air and distinction which had always marked her in anycompany. But though she smiled into his eyes there was something in herexpression that forbade him to hope for any crumbs of comfort from hervisit.
"Good evening," she said trying to speak in ordinary tones while thewild beating of her heart made her momentarily faint. "I came, as Iwanted so much to tell you something."
He gave her his seat and leaned against the table looking down at her."I think I know why you have come. Not on your own account,--that wouldbe impossible to you,--but it is on some dear, quixotic errand foranother. You have come straight from--Mrs. Dalton." He could not bringhimself to say, "my wife."
Honor bent her head, looking distressed. Her mission was becoming moredifficult than she had anticipated.
"Honey," he said reproachfully, "don't you think I have done enough?"
"There is a little more you could do," she returned, lifting pleadingeyes to his face.
"For her? Do you think she deserves the half of the consideration shehas received? Other women who have sinned against the law and every codeof honour have been regarded as outcasts from society. Honest women bartheir doors to such as she. I cannot bear to see you with her!--a girllike you cannot understand--I cannot explain"--he broke off with agesture of impatience and helplessness.
"I understand quite well," said Honor lifting her head courageously. "Ifeel that life is terribly unjust. There are men who are even worse thanshe, and yet their sins are covered, and society allows them to marrypure, honest girls! Is that right or just?"
It was Dalton's turn to lower his gaze.
Honor continued speaking. She did not allow her maidenly reserve tostand in the way of her frank denouncement of the injustice of human andsocial laws. Very quietly and logically she stated the case while Daltonwith arms folded on his breast, listened, ashamed for himself and hissex. Before she had finished, he came and knelt beside her chair, and,gripping the arms of it with shaking hands, humbled himself to the dust.
"We are all a cursed lot of Pharisees!" he cried. "Don't turn away fromme with disgust! Pity me and love me still though I am unfit to kiss thehem of your skirt." Nevertheless, he bent and pressed his lips to theborder of her gown.
"Ah, don't!" she cried, the tears flooding her eyes. "You and I cannotthink of love any more! It must be friendship or nothing. Today I haverealised as I never did before, that there are higher duties for some ofus, to which we must give the first place, even at the sacrifice oflove."
"Honey, you don't know what you are saying!" he cried passionately."Dearest, you cannot forbid me to love you! It is an unalterable fact. Icannot change it, even at your bidding."
"I know--it is quite true of love, for it is a sacred thing and belongsto the heart. But it can be locked away--put out of sight--_buried_,"she returned, her voice breaking. "The higher duty is--the _saving of asoul_. Dare we withhold our forgiveness from a repentant sinner? Yourwife is truly a very miserable woman. She is on her knees to you. Canyou afford to refuse her?--or will you rather say, 'Go and sin no more'?Which of us is without sin? If you repulse her now, it might lead to herruin, body and soul?"
"You are asking more of me than I can do. I can never again look uponher as a wife. Feeling as I do, it would be a violation of the bestinstincts of my nature."
"I am not asking that of you."
"What, then, is it I must do? for you know that I would give all Ipossess to please you."
Honor's tears fell fast, unheeded. "_Only be kind to her._ Let her feelthat she has something to live for. At present she has nothing."
"I tell you, she is false. She has played upon your sympathies and ledyou to believe in her."
"I believe in her only because it is impossible to doubt herwretchedness, or her repentance."
"She lied to you!"
"She told me the truth concerning herself. She did not spare herself.Hers is, indeed, a 'broken and a contrite heart' which even God does notdespise," said Honor reverently.
"You wish me to be kind to her?--Tell me how, when we live under thesame roof and I can never regard her as my wife?"
His eyes gazed upon the girl's face with wistful yearning. She was hissoul's mate,--she of the pure eyes and tender mouth! He could be kind to_her_ all the
days of his life. He could love and cherish _her_, insickness and in health. Would to God she could belong to him!
But she was talking of his duty to another whom he despised!
Honor pleaded long with all her gentle tact, that he would try topractice tolerance and kindness. The future would take care of itself.
"Kindness from you is all she craves, and a chance to prove hersincerity."
"In what way can I be kind?" he repeated.
"By being thoughtful of her needs, considerate, and forbearing. Speakgently, and do not grudge her your smiles when there is need to showappreciation."
"And if I bring myself to do all these things, do you believe she willbe content? Oh, Honey!--what a burden you are laying on my shoulders! Doyou know that I find it difficult to be even decently polite to her?That is why I keep out of her way. And what is my reward to be?"
"If we do our duty day by day, it is enough. We should not look forreward, yet, I am confident we shall receive it, never fear! It worksout right in the end."
"When I am dead?"--bitterly. "There is only one thing I want. Giventhat, I would ask nothing more of life!"
He rose and stood aside to set her free, for Honor indicated that hervisit was at an end.
"Good-bye, and God bless you, Brian," she said with trembling lips,giving him both her hands.
Dalton made no reply, but stooping, kissed them tenderly; for the momenthe was incapable of speech. Then going to the door he held the curtainaside to allow her to pass out.
Honor found her way home, shaken with emotion. She had won her point,but Mrs. Dalton would have to discover for herself the result of theinterview which she had contrived to bring about; and if it helped herto begin afresh, the pain it had cost would not have been in vain.
So deeply engrossed had she been in the purpose of her visit, that shehad forgotten to repeat to Captain Dalton the conversation she hadoverheard at the _mela_. Her father had scoffed at it, and Tommy hadtreated it with indifference, explaining that all pioneers of progressin India had to put up with opposition, threats, and bluff. The nativesof Bengal were too cowardly to risk their necks--didn't she remember herMacaulay? After all, there was really nothing tangible to worry about.
Nevertheless, the matter so preyed upon her mind, that she wrote a noteafter dinner to Mrs. Dalton, telling her all about it, and asking her topersuade her husband to be always on his guard against sudden surprises,as she believed men were plotting against his life. It would give thepoor woman an opportunity to begin friendly relations with her husband,and possibly help to bring about a better understanding between them.
The note was entrusted to an orderly, who dropped it in the pocket ofhis tunic and postponed the delivery of it to a more convenient season,his friends from the bazaar having gathered at the door of his_basha_[21], behind the bungalow, for a smoke, and to gossip about theirexploits at the _mela_.
[Footnote 21: Dwelling.]
It was not till they had gone, that he was recalled to a sense of dutywith regard to the note, and the hour was then late. However, it was asmuch as his place was worth for him to leave the delivery of it till themorning; so, making his way across to the Civil Surgeon's bungalow, hearoused Mrs. Dalton's ayah, who, in her turn, roused her mistress, andhanded her the communication from Honor.
Thus does Fate control the destinies of individuals; for, had theorderly done his duty earlier, there might have been a very differentending to this story.
Meanwhile, a letter by the last post from Joyce in Darjeeling, engagedHonor till close upon midnight. It had given her much to think about,and called for a reply of congratulations, as it was written at a timeof intense joy and thanksgiving over the restoration of happy relationswith her husband:
Joyce had written at great length, beginning her letter with adescription of her journey and the miserable thoughts that had occupiedher all the way. After giving a brief outline of the circumstancesconnected with her arrival at her husband's rooms, she continued:
"You can imagine the shock it was to find her there and so very much athome! I could have killed her! But I did nothing melodramatic, believeme. I was too stunned. Instead, I boiled with the desire for a reprisal.Since I could not fight her like a savage, being, of course, a highlycivilised person, I fought her with the only weapons at my command. Iwent to the Planters' Ball, tired though I was, and made an amazing hit.Did you ever imagine that I was an actress, born? If you had seen medance and smile while my heart was breaking, you would have had torevise all previous impressions of little Me.
"Ray looked completely dazed at first, and could hardly believe hiseyes. I obliged him to keep up appearances, so that we danced a greatdeal together, and he had my sweetest smiles, though he knew all thewhile that my heart was turned to stone. I was an angel to him beforeothers, but alone with him I was adamant. And Mrs. Dalton had the lessonof her life. I saw to it that Ray dropped her entirely, and as peopleare like sheep, there was no one brave enough to have anything to dowith her. Her humiliation was complete. Before half the night was over,she left, looking mad with everybody. Even those who had been in thehabit of speaking to her, gave her a wide berth, so you can imagine howcomforted I felt!--though I am inclined, now, to be a weeny bit sorryfor her. It must have been an appalling experience, and only a woman canappreciate what it must have felt like. However, it will do her good torealise how much it is all worth in the end! It seems like becoming allof a sudden bankrupt of friends and love, and of all that makes life sodear and good. I am surprised that Captain Dalton has cared to take herback, but I suppose it is to save her from worse. If that is so, hecan't be so bad after all!
"I am rather ashamed of the part I played at the ball, for I took awicked pleasure in Ray's misery. He looked so white and ill all thetime, and whenever we danced I could see how he was just aching to kissme as he used to do. His eyes gave him away all the time! But he neverdared, even when we sat out in sheltered nooks, for I was a cruel devil,and 'rubbed it in' every time I got the chance. But, darling, considerhow sore I felt--and how angry!
"So I flirted mildly all the evening just to show that two could playthe same game! Of course, in cold blood, I simply hated myself forbehaving so despicably. I did not know I had it in me, but one neverknows oneself till things happen to rouse one thoroughly. In the end Ihad a splitting headache and felt on the verge of hysteria. It was all Icould do not to break down while Ray was unhooking my frock at the back.It was the only ball-gown in my trunk, the other not having arrived--thesort of thing that leaves one at the mercy of some charitable person.That was Ray! Though we were quarrelling desperately, he hooked andunhooked me without a word of protest, and oh, the misery of his dear,handsome face in the mirror! I could have hugged it to my breast andcried upon the squiggly little curls that never lie flat. Oh, I do lovehim so! But I was too proud to relent so soon, and tried to keep up myrage, which all the while was cooling fast.
"When Ray left me, after the little business of the hooks and eyes, heretired to his dressing-room, where I supposed he had caused a bed to bemade up for himself on the floor. The hotel was so packed, there was nohelp for it. Well, how was it possible for me to sleep when I thought ofhis lying on the draughty floor, and myself in possession of hiscomfortable bed? I tossed and turned and wondered about him, seeing allthe while his unhappy face in the mirror. I remembered about your sayinghow a man punishes himself by remorse far more than others can punishhim, and I knew that my poor boy was suffering terribly. That made methink of tragedies with razors and things, till I could not lie downanother minute, but had to get out of bed to peep and see that he wassafe. Very softly I tip-toed to the curtain which hangs between therooms, and put my eyes to the edge.
"Do you know, Honey darling, the poor fellow had no bed at all! Hisservant had not been given any order, and my dear, precious husband wassitting in the cold, before a dead fire, looking the picture ofdesolation and grief. It made me cry like anything to see his head bowedupon his arms, his whole attitude so dejected!
and by the heaving of hisshoulders, I knew he was crying. Think of it!--crying because of what hehad done! and for my cruelty and unforgivingness! It is dreadful to seea strong man all broken up and humiliated for the sake of his wife. Oh,Honey! I could bear it no longer, and fairly ran to him.
"Of course you can imagine the rest. It is too sacred to relate, and Ithrill all over at the memory of it. How we clung together--mingling ourtears! Oh, what a blessed thing is love!
"There is no more to tell, except that we are enjoying a secondhoneymoon, far more wonderful than the first. And you may be quite,quite sure that I shall never leave my beloved husband again, unless Iam forced. He and I shall go home every three years to Baby who is wellcared for by his grannie. Of course I miss him dreadfully!--but then,there's Ray!--a big baby in his way, and one can't cut one's self intwo, can one? so, all things considered, I feel I must just hold on outhere for his sake till we can go home together. It is wonderful howdifferent India now seems to me! I verily believe I hated it before,because I was blind or asleep. Love makes Paradise of any place!
"I have told Ray all about that time in the ruins, and we both agreethat I was a little silly to let my dread of his view of it keep mesilent. My folly nearly spoiled both our lives. I should have trusted myhusband more. Anyhow, I am wiser now."
Honor sat long over this very human document, moved to laughter andtears. So Joyce had pardoned her sinner and had come into her reward!Another sinner, far more culpable would also find happiness throughforgiveness, and her husband come into his reward, some day! It wasLife, with its eternal give and take, and its exchange which was seldomjust. Yet, in proportion to the kindness and generosity with which BrianDalton treated his contrite wife, would be her gratitude and devotion;and time would bring healing and forgetfulness of wrongs.
But some there were who gave always, expecting nothing in return, andthey, too, won happiness with the years--virtue being its own reward!
For the first time Honor was conscious of a great bitterness of spiritas she sought oblivion in sleep.
She had just turned down the wick of her bedroom lamp--for it wascustomary in those parts to sleep with a light burning low all night ina bedchamber because of the lurking danger from snakes--when she heard asudden sound in the distance that rooted her to the spot. The nextinstant her mother who had been awakened by it, called out from theadjoining room:
"Honor, are you awake?"
"Yes. Did you hear that, Mother?"
"I was just wondering what it was. It sounded like a pistol shot."
"I thought so, too. Listen!--there are voices."
Mr. Bright, who was also disturbed, suggested in sleepy tones that hiswife and daughter should go to sleep and leave other people to mindtheir own business. It was not part of his duty to look for trouble. Itcame fast enough to him in the ordinary channels. If any one had beenkilled, they would hear of it in due course.
"How cold-blooded!" said Mrs. Bright.
"We have quite enough of crime by day, my dear, without looking for itwith a lantern at night."
But the distant voices increased in agitation, and grew confused.
Drawing the window curtain aside, Honor looked out into the night andsaw unmistakable signs of alarm at Dalton's bungalow. Lights hurried toand fro and conflicting orders were shouted by one servant to another.In fact, it was very evident that something had gone seriously wrong.
"I wonder what could have happened?" said Mrs. Bright looking over herdaughter's shoulder. "See, there is someone coming to tell us about it."
A single light was moving swiftly towards the hedge that divided the twogardens. Honor felt her heart paralysing as she watched the progress ofthe lantern; a hand seemed tightening upon her throat and her limbs grewpalsied with fear. What was it they were coming so quickly to say?
An evil, dark face had risen before her imagination, and she heard againthe voice speaking to the basket-maker at the _mela_, vowing to take thelife of the surgeon who had been the cause of his only son's death. "Oh,God!--oh, God!" burst from her lips.
"Honey! Honey! What is it you fear?" Mrs. Bright cried, gripping her bythe shoulders.
But Honor broke away from her mother and, with shaking fingers, flung onher out-door clothes.
"Surely you are not going out?"
"Can't you understand, Mother?" she cried in strained, unnatural tones."They have killed him! I know they have killed him!"
"Sahib! Sahib!" called voices loudly on the verandah.
The coolies pulling at the _punkha_ joined in a chorus of "Sahib,Sahib!"
"We are sent to call the _Bara Sahib_. Haste and wake him. A greatcalamity hath befallen."
"A murder has been committed, wake the Sahib!"
"Good God!" exclaimed Mr. Bright springing from his bed. "What are theysaying? A murder? Where?"
"At Captain Dalton's bungalow. The doctor has been murdered!--howterrible! Honor always said people were plotting against his life," saidMrs. Bright, horror-stricken.
"Good God!" said Mr. Bright again as he pulled on his boots. "Tell themI will be with them in a minute. Send someone to call Tommy Deare,quickly."
In the meantime, Honor was speeding across the grass on her way to thescene of the tragedy.