CHAPTER XXXI.
BOLDERO ON GUARD.
Oh! never work Like this was done for work's ignoble sake: It must have finer aims to spur it on!
Thus Maud and her husband were more than reconciled. Maud packed up herdresses, with a few natural sighs that so much sweetness should wasteitself unseen, and set about passing the summer with heroicalcheerfulness. Things took a turn for the better. A few thunder-stormshad come to cool the world, and the early rains were covering the barrenmountains with verdure and bringing new life to Maud's garden. Mrs.Crummins was giving her lessons in water-colours, and altogetherexistence was less intolerable than she had believed it possible that itshould be. Perhaps the momentary breach, followed so quickly by sothorough a reconciliation, had engendered an especial sweetness in herintercourse with her husband. Be that as it may, Maud had resignedElysium and settled down courageously to her home life, not, perhaps,without regret, but at any rate, without discontent.
Before, however, their reconciliation had time to take effect in anyalteration of their plans, events occurred which gave their thoughts awholly new direction and effectually settled for them what they were todo. Occasional cases of cholera, seeds sown by the scattered atoms ofthe great Fair the year before, had been occurring in various districtsall through the winter, and at the first blush of spring the diseaseshowed symptoms of breaking out in force. Week by week the 'Gazette'chronicled a marked diminution in other forms of sickness, an equallydistinct increase in this. The doctors had a busy time in makingpreparations, and great were the cleansings, the whitewashings, theemptyings, the fillings-up in many an immund old town and ill-odouredvillage, where the kingdom of Dirt had prevailed in unbrokentranquillity for generations past.
Outside each city a cholera camp was formed, with a view to theisolation of the sufferers. The District officers were at work frommorning to night. The natives took it all with that slightly wonderingacquiescence which is the normal attitude of mind produced by theproceedings of the 'Sahib.' It was the order of God that cholera shouldcome; it was likewise the order of the 'Sirkar'[4] that houses shouldbe whitewashed, cesspools cleared out, and chlorodyne administeredgratis to all who liked it. Both visitations were inscrutable, and to beendured with philosophic calm. The English Doctor, however, was, so ranthe orthodox belief, a dangerous fellow, and the old 'Hakim,' with histraditional nostrums, no doubt the proper person to be killed or curedby. The right thing therefore, if one became ill, was carefully toconceal the fact, have surreptitious interviews with the nativephysician, and, if die one must, be returned as having died of somedisease which would not involve a visit from the 'Inspector Sahib,' aconflagration of bedsteads and clothes, a general effusion of whitewashand consequent topsy-turveying of all the household. English doctors andnative doctors, however, were of much the same avail, for King Cholerahas as yet defied science to read his deadly mystery and learn thesecret of his rule. All that science can achieve is to narrow the limitsof his ravages.
May had scarcely begun when two cases occurred in the Hill Camp, andSutton, for the first time in his life, knew what it was to be afraid.He had given 'hostages to Fortune,' and death and danger for the firsttime looked really terrible when it was Maud who had to confront them.Fifty times Sutton cursed his folly and selfishness in not having senther off earlier to the Hills, out of harm's way.
While he was harrassing himself with vain regrets and self-reproachesand puzzling his brains as to how the mistake might be even yetrepaired, Maud herself added a new item to his perplexities by becomingdecidedly unwell. She awoke unrefreshed and wretched; declined the greattreat of the day, her morning ride; came shivering and appetiteless tobreakfast and confessed to feeling completely miserable. Her husband,the moment that he felt her dry, burning hand, exclaimed that she hadgot fever, gave her a welcome prescription to go back at once to bed,and sent off for the Doctor.
The reader of these pages, who knows the Sandy Tracts, would think thatI did them scarcely justice if I omitted from the picture all referenceto a visitation which to many of them formed, too often, a main featureof Indian existence. There is a Fiend there, be it known, that comes, noone can tell whence--from earth or air, or marshy pool or frosty sky orblazing sunny morning. However, when he comes he speedily makes hisarrival known to the guests whom he favours with a visit. He shakes themand racks them, and gets into their heads and beats a kettledrum there,and sets a tribe of imps to dance a sort of infernal ballet all abouteach quivering limb; he freezes them, so that the poor shiveringwretches bury themselves under mountains of rags and blankets and go onshivering still; he parches them till they feel like Dives in torture;he turns their brains to mud, their thoughts to chaos, their highspirits to the very blackest gall. Most people, it is believed, when thedemon first possesses them, signalise his accession by a hearty cry; andwell they may, for among the other cheering thoughts which suggestthemselves at the moment, one is that every time you have fever thelikelier you are to have it yet again; and that your way to recoverylies through a remedy which for bitterness and bewilderment is only notas bad as the disease for which it is invoked--quinine. In the SandyTracts they serve it to you hot, out of a black bottle, stopped with atwisted coil of paper, and heated half to boiling by being carriedthrough the sun. It is at such a moment that existence naturally wears asombre look, and that the Indian exile curses the ambition or theill-luck that bore him to such a fortune beneath an alien sky.
Maud, however, was so far fortunate that she had the best and tenderestnurses that could be wished. The surgeon, delighted with so interestinga patient, was assiduous, considerate and suggestive. Mrs. Crummins wasmore than a mother, and Sutton suddenly discovered a perfect genius forthe science of an invalid's room. When Maud, after a week or two, beganto get strong again there was no doubt in the little conclave that sheought to go to the Hills. A great deal of illness was about--the cholerahad become really serious--the fierce summer was coming quickly on--inanother fortnight the journey would be almost impossible for all but thestrongest. So it was settled for her to go; and Sutton became veryimpatient and uneasy till she was safely off.
Circumstances seemed to settle whither she should go. There had come thekindest letter from Mrs. Vereker, the moment she had heard of Maud'sattack. Indian people are, it must be said for them, delightfullyhospitable, and offer one bed and board for as long as one likes, as amatter of course. 'Let me know the day,' Mrs. Vereker had written, 'andI will send out my pony for the last stage in; and I shall take thechildren into my room, which they will think great fun, and turn thenursery into a bedroom for my pretty invalid. Come, dear Maud, and Iwill promise you back your blooming cheeks in a fortnight!'
Sutton was touched by the kindness of a person to whom he had never beenin the least polite; and, in far too great a fright to be particular, orallow objections which would have suggested themselves at another time,he lost no time in writing to Boldero about the means of getting toElysium (for, without a little pressure in the matter of bullocks andcamels from the District officer, carriage in the Sandy Tracts is hardto find); and Boldero had written to say that happily he himself wasgoing up on business, and would put his camp at Mrs. Sutton's disposal.
Accordingly Maud went up to the Hills in the utmost comfort, and withwhat would have struck European eyes as somewhat unnecessary pomp. Thewild country in which they lived rendered an escort of cavalry an almostnecessary feature of any but the shortest expedition, and she was quiteaccustomed to go out for her ride, in her husband's absence, attended bya couple of wild Sawars, whose rude attire, fierce aspect, drawn swordsand screaming, prancing horses, rendered them somewhat incongruouscompanions for a young lady's morning canter. It seemed, therefore, inno way strange for their party to assume the aspect of a militaryexpedition. Boldero, however, added all the civil splendour at hiscommand and called into requisition all the resources of the Districtofficer's establishment to make Maud's journey luxurious.
All along their route there we
re signs of due preparation for the'Deputy Commissioner Sahib's' party. Whenever they came to ahalting-place they found a little encampment of tents already pitched,surrounded by a host of willing ministrants; a meal awaiting them, thetea-kettle simmering or champagne cooling, and all the little comfortsthat Indian servants have so ready a knack of extemporising on a march.Maud, though still weak, had sufficiently recovered to enjoy it allextremely, and found her companion very much to her taste, yet notaltogether as she would have him. He watched over her with as anxiousand tender a care as Sutton himself could have done. Everything thatcould by any possibility contribute to her comfort had evidently beenthought of with a sedulous attention. Their dinner each evening was alittle banquet of a very different description from the rough-and-readymeal which sufficed for Boldero's simple tastes on ordinary occasions.Maud's every wish was watched. Twenty miles from home she had saidcasually that she had left her scent-bottle behind her, and thought nomore of it till it made its appearance next morning at breakfast.Horsemen had been riding through the night in order that she might notlack her eau de Cologne. Sutton had insisted on sending with her his ownespecial body-servant, who had been with him ever since he was a lad,and was, Maud knew, essential to the comfort of his existence. He might,however, have spared himself the sacrifice, for Boldero proved himself abrilliant organiser and was full of resources. Maud simply rode fromone pleasant drawing-room to another. The journey kept her in a glow ofpleasure. 'How pretty it is!' she cried, as they alighted after thefirst morning's march and found the camp-fires alight, the relays ofponies picketed, and a banquet ready under a vast peepul-tree's shade;'how pretty it is, and how good you are to me! I am beginning to feellike an Eastern queen on a royal progress.'
'Pray rule us as you will,' said Boldero gallantly; 'you will find usloyal subjects. Meanwhile let your Majesty's cup-bearer offer you somehock and Seltzer-water, the best of beverages after a thirsty ride.'
But, polite and kind and hospitable as Boldero was, he was yet not quiteas Maud would have liked him to be. His mirth, formerly so ready andunconstrained, had departed. He made no approach to familiarity,scarcely to unconstraint. He was ready to talk, if she began theconversation; but he was equally well pleased to ride for miles withouta word. His object seemed to be to make her journey pleasant, but hegave no symptom that it pleased himself. He never for a moment forgotthat she was the Colonel's lady and he the District officer inattendance upon her. This reserve jarred somehow with Maud's idea ofwhat was interesting, natural, romantic. Many nice men, most nice men,she thought, were eager in rushing into friendship with her andrequired a little putting down. It was provoking that Boldero showed notendency to stand in need of this gentle repression. She had liked himespecially last year and he had seemed quite alive and responsive to thefact; now it piqued her that, beyond the assiduous politeness requiredby his position as a host, he showed no symptom of being fascinated; inplain language he quite declined to flirt, and yet she gave him everyopportunity. This was provoking, since Maud herself felt especiallydisposed to be gracious.
'Now,' she said, after luncheon, when Boldero showed symptoms ofretreating, 'please do not go away to smoke; let us sit in this pleasantshade--you shall read me some poetry--no--if you like, you shall smokeand I will read to you. See, now, I have my beloved Browning--I am sofond of this.' And Maud began to read, which she did very nicely:--
Constance, I know not how it is with men: For women (I am a woman now like you) There is no good of life but love--but love! What else looks good is some shade flung from love; Love gilds it, gives it worth. Be warned by me, Never you cheat yourself one instant! Love, Give love, ask only love, and leave the rest!
'Will you have some more of this hock before it is packed up?' saidBoldero, in the most determined manner.
'No, thank you,' said Maud, with a sigh of real annoyance, 'I will nothave any more hock before it is packed up nor shall you have any morepoetry. And why, kind Fates, is it that I have so prosaic a companionfor my journey just when I happen to feel poetical?'
'It was because the prosy companion happened to be going at the rightmoment,' Boldero said; 'I am afraid this sounds very unromantic too, butI advise you to go into the tent and have a thorough rest before westart again. And, by the way, I shall be sending back to the camp: doyou want to write a line to Sutton?'
'Of all things!' cried Maud. 'And I shall tell him how pleasant you havebeen about the poetry.'
Before their Elysian residence was ended Maud discovered that it wasBoldero's particular function to recall her husband to her thoughts:sometimes at moments when oblivion would have been preferable.