CHAPTER IV.
ESPECIALLY WOMEN.
"We are fearfully and wonderfully made--especially women." --THACKERAY.
The afternoon sunlight flung lengthening shadows across the cavalryLines, where men and native officers alike were housed inmud-plastered huts, innocent of windows; and where life was beginningto stir anew after the noontide tranquillity of the East.
The eighty horses of each troop stood, picketed with ample lengths ofhead and heel rope, between the lines of huts occupied by theirsowars; while at the permanently open doorways squatted the menthemselves,--Sikhs, Punjabi-Mahomedans, Pathans, each troop composedentirely of one or the other,--smoking, gambling, or putting finaltouches to their toilet in the broad light of day. The native officersalone aspired to a certain degree of privacy. Their huts were detacheda little space from those that guarded the horses; and flimsy walls ofgrass matting, set around them, imparted a suggestion of dignity andaloofness from the common herd.
The hut of Jemadar Alla Dad Khan, of the Pathan troop of Desmond'ssquadron, boasted just such a matting wall, with a gateless gateway,even as in the bungalows of Sahibs; and withinsides all was veryparticularly set in order. There was an air of festivity in the opencourtyard, on either side of which lay two smoke-grimed rooms, thatmade up the entire house.
For this was a red-letter day in the eyes of the Jemadar, and ofFatma Bibi, his wife, who had spent a full hour in adorning her plumpperson, and emphasising its charms according to the peculiar methodsof the East. That done, she came forth into the sunlight, attired asbecomes a Mahomedan woman who is expecting a visit of ceremony. Aboveher mysteriously draped trousers she wore a sleeveless coat, adornedwith crescent-shaped pockets and a narrow gold braid. A _sari_[8] ofgold-flecked muslin was draped over her head and shoulders, andbeneath it her heavily oiled hair made a wide triangle of herforehead. The scarlet of betel-nut was upon her lips; the duskiness ofkol shadowed her lashes. Ornaments of glass and silver encircled herneck and arms, and were lavishly festooned around her delicate ears.
[8] Veil.
Her entire bearing exhaled satisfied vanity like a perfume, as she satat ease upon a bare _charpoy_[9] watching her husband's preparationsfor the expected guests.
[9] String-bed.
He was arrayed in full-dress uniform, even to the two cherished medalson his chest; and his appearance sorted strangely with the peacefulnature of his occupation.
In the midst of the courtyard he had set forth--not without a secretglow of pride--as exact an imitation of the Sahibs' "afternoon tea" ashis limited knowledge and resources would permit. From the messkhansamah he had borrowed a japanned tea-tray that had seen muchservice, a Rockingham teapot, chipped at the spout, two blue-rimmedcups and saucers, and half a dozen plates, which last he had set roundthe table at precisely equal distances from each other. Two of themwere left empty for the use of his guests, and the other four werepiled with dainties suitable for so high an occasion--sugar-toppedbiscuits (beloved of natives throughout the land), raw pistachio nuts,Cabul grapes and oranges. Then, because the central space had a barrenaspect, the sugar-bowl was promoted to the place of honour for lack ofa more suitable adornment.
The only two chairs the courtyard contained were set opposite to oneanother, and it was uplifting to reflect that in a short time theywould be occupied by his captain's own Memsahib and the GeneraillySahib's Miss, they having, of their great condescension accepted hishospitality by the gracious favour of the Captain Sahib himself.
"According to this fashion, are all things made ready, O Fatma Bibi,when there is a tea-drinking in the bungalows of Sahibs," heannounced, for the enlightenment of his wife, who had seen little ofthe world beyond the four mud walls roofed by her private patch ofsky, and therefore could not be expected to have accurate acquaintancewith the mysterious ways of Sahibs.
Fatma Bibi acknowledged the information with just such a nod as amother might bestow on a contented child. Despite her limitedexperience of the outer world, she knew herself many degrees wiserthan her husband in matters of far greater moment than the setting outof a few plates and cups after the manner of the Sahib-log, who, inrespect of food and feeding are completely and comprehensively"without sense," as all India knows.
"Bear in mind also," the man went on, sublimely unconscious of hiswife's indulgent attitude, "that the Memsahib knoweth the simplestwords of Hindostani only; but Meredith Miss Sahib will render ourspeech unto her, making all things clear. Behold--they come."
The sound of hoofs, and the thud of a "dandy" set down outsideconfirmed his words; and not many minutes later the Jemadar usheredtwo Englishwomen into the presence of his wife,--Evelyn, looking moreflower-like than usual, in a many-frilled gown of creamy muslin and abig simple hat to match.
"By the goodness of the Captain Sahib's heart my house is honouredbeyond deserving," the man gave them greeting as they crossed thethreshold, while Fatma Bibi's eyes rested in frank curiosity upon theexceeding whiteness and simplicity of the English "Mem," whoseappearance was so direct a contrast to her own.
"Without doubt these women of _Belait_[10] possess no true beauty,"she assured herself, with a nod of satisfaction, as she resumed herseat and the new-comers accepted their appointed chairs.
[10] England.
It was a strange meal, and Evelyn Desmond was, in all respects, theleast happy of the oddly assorted quartette. She made a conscientious,if not very successful, effort to drink the pale block tea, and eatthe strange mixture of foods pressed upon her by the Jemadar, whowould obviously feel disheartened if his guests did not empty all fourplates at a sitting. Nor was this the least of her troubles. FatmaBibi's valiant attempts at conversation filled her with a bewildermentand discomfort, bordering on irritation. In an impulse of childishwickedness, she caught herself wishing heartily that Theo had neverseen fit to distinguish himself by saving the Jemadar's life.
She looked enviously across the table at Honor, who, by a fewspontaneous questions, set both at their ease. She spoke of herfather, and the man's face glowed.
"How should men forget the Generailly Sahib, who have beheld him, asdid we of the _Rissalar_,[11] in war time, leading men and horses andguns through the terrible mountain country beyond Peshawur? We thatserve the British Raj, Miss Sahib, are not men of ready tongue; butour hearts are slow to forget."
[11] Regiment.
In proof thereof, the good Jemadar--his tongue effectually unloosedfor the moment--regaled his guests with tale upon tale of bygone raidsand murders and of swift retribution meted out by those watch-dogs ofthe Border, the Punjab Frontier Force; tales set forth with theOriental touch of exaggeration which lent colour to a narrativealready sufficiently inspiring.
"These things have I seen, Miss Sahib," he concluded, with a suddendeepening of his voice, "and these things have I done, through thegodlike courage of my Captain Sahib Bahadur"--the man saluted on thewords--"who, in the beginning of my service, when I lay wounded almostto the death, amid bullets that fell like hail, bore me to safety onhis own shoulders, earning thereby the Victoria Cross that he wearetheven now. True talk, Hazur. Among all the officer Sahibs of Hind, andI have seen more than a few, there be none like unto my Captain Sahibfor courage and greatness of heart."
At this point Evelyn's voice broke in on a note of querulousweariness.
"Do come away, Honor. I've eaten queer things enough to give meindigestion for a week; and I can't understand a word any one issaying. What was he getting so excited about just now?"
"Something that must make you feel a very proud woman, Evelyn," thegirl answered; and with a thrill in her low voice she translated theman's last words.
Mrs Desmond flushed softly; praise of her husband being only a fewdegrees less acceptable than praise of herself.
"It sounds very magnificent," she agreed, without enthusiasm, "but Idaresay he doesn't really mean half of it. These natives never do.Anyway, please say the polite and proper things and let's get home
assoon as possible. I'm sure we've done enough to satisfy even Theo bythis time."
And Honor, who would fain have listened to their host for anotherhalf-hour, had no choice but to obey.
"Why, Evelyn," she said, as they left the striped sun and shadow ofthe lines, "you never told me that Captain Desmond won his V.C. bysaving the Jemadar's life. I want to hear all about it, please."
Evelyn smiled, and shrugged her shoulders.
"You probably know as much as I do. Theo never _will_ tell abouthimself. Besides, in my own heart, I think he was rather foolish torisk getting killed several times over just for the sake of a_native_." The scorn that some few Anglo-Indians never lose lurked inher tone. "Of course it's very nice for him to have the V.C., and Isuppose he thought it was worth while just for that. But I hope hewon't go in for any _more_ things of that sort. There's _me_ to beconsidered now."
Such peculiar views on the subject of heroism smote Honor to silence,and with a hurried murmur that Dilkusha seemed impatient to get homeshe set the mare into a trot.
Arrived in the cool dimness of her own drawing-room, Evelyn Desmondsank gratefully into a chair, her skirts billowing softly about her.
"How refreshing it is here, after that glaring courtyard! This placeis getting too hot already. I _do_ wish Theo would let me go to Simlaagain this year. Last season the Walters asked him to let me jointhem; and it was simply lovely. Though I didn't half like leaving himbehind; and I suppose I shan't like it much this year either."
"Then why go at all?" suggested practical Honor. "You're not obligedto. Surely Mrs Olliver stays?"
"Mrs Olliver! She's not a woman! She's a Regimental Institution. Ican't think _what_ the men see in her to make such a fuss about! Aplain, badly-made Irishwoman, who dresses abominably. And she's muchtoo casual with all of them--especially with Theo, even if she _did_save his life from typhoid fever."
Honor made no immediate reply. It was only charitable to suppose thatan overdose of sunshine and block tea was responsible for the note ofirritation in Evelyn's tone.
"I suppose you think I ought to imitate her," Mrs Desmond went on,after an expectant pause. "Kohat is hateful enough in the coldweather, and with heat and cholera, and flies added, it would kill meoutright! Besides, I don't believe a man loves one any better for thatsort of thing in the end. He probably gets horribly bored, and doesn'tlike to say so. Besides--Theo _prefers_ me to go, he _said_ so; andthat settles everything quite comfortably for us both. By the way,I've been planning a sort of introduction picnic for you, only thatstupid tea-party put it out of my head. I'll make out a list of peopleat once and send the invitations out this evening."
She crossed over to her bureau, which, apart from the piano, was theonly piece of furniture the room contained that in England would beconsidered worthy of the name.
While she sat absorbed in her congenial task, Desmond entered equippedfor polo, and after a few words with Honor went over to his wife.
"What are you so taken up with, Ladybird?" he asked.
"Something lovely! A picnic--for Honor."
Desmond laughed.
"Six for her and half a dozen for yourself! Let's see who we'reinviting."
He ran his eye down the list of guests--twelve in all. At sight of thelast two names--Mr Kresney, Miss Kresney--he frowned sharply, andtaking up his wife's discarded pencil ran a broad black line throughboth.
She pushed his hand aside with an unusual display of irritation.
"What did you do _that_ for?" she demanded, a ring of defiance in hervoice. "I want to ask the Kresneys; and I will--all the same."
"Indeed, little woman, you'll do nothing of the sort."
"Why? What's wrong with them, Theo? They're quite decent people, asfar as I can see."
"Which doesn't prove that you can see very far! You must just take myword for it, that whatever else they may be, the Kresneys are not oursort at all."
"I suppose you really mean they're not up to _Frontier Cavalry form!_"she retorted, not without a thrill of fear at her own daring; for thepride of the Frontier Force is a deeply-rooted pride; and, consideringits records, not unjustifiable after all.
Desmond's eyes flashed fire, and a sharp retort rose to his lips. But,after a brief silence, he answered his wife with a restraint thatspoke volumes to the girl at the tea-table behind him.
"Your taunt is unjust and untrue. In a general way we accept mostpeople for what they are, out here. But one has to draw the linesomewhere, even in India. If I were Deputy-Commissioner, the Kresneyswould be asked along with the rest. But, in my position, I am free tomake distinctions. And I have very good reasons for not asking Kresneyto an informal picnic of my particular friends. On neutral ground,such as the club, or the tennis-courts, I have nothing to say; thoughI should naturally feel pleased if you considered my wishes a littlein this matter."
"Well, then, why can't you consider _mine_ a little too? I told MissKresney about it, and she's expecting to come."
"I'm sorry for that; I don't want to hurt the girl's feelings. But youcan't take people up just for once and ignore them afterwards. Thetruth is, they both see plainly enough that you haven't quite got thehang of things out here yet, and they are naturally taking fulladvantage of the fact."
Evelyn's passing gentleness evaporated on the instant.
"They're _not!_" she protested wrathfully. "And it's horrid of you tosay such things! They like me, I don't see why I shouldn't be nice tothem. Besides, this is _my_ picnic--I planned it--and if _I'm_ thehostess I can ask who I please." The touch of young importance thatsounded through the petulance of her tone dispelled the last shadow ofDesmond's annoyance and set him smiling.
"Why, of course, Ladybird--within reasonable limits. But after all,the hospitality offered is mine; and what's more, the hostess is mineinto the bargain!"
He laid his hand lightly against the rose-flush of her cheek, but shejerked it impatiently aside.
"Oh, well, if you will take it that way," he said, in a tone ofresigned weariness, and turning abruptly on his heel came across toHonor, whose cheeks were almost as hot as Evelyn's own.
"I'm glad Alla Dad Khan made himself interesting this afternoon," heremarked conversationally. "Ressaldar Rajinder Singh, who commands mySikh troop, is very anxious to come and pay his respects some daysoon. You see, as your father's daughter and the Major's sister youare a rather special person for us all. But I must be off now. Thefellows will be waiting. I'll arrange about the Sirdar to-morrow."
On the threshold he paused and looked towards his wife, who still satwith her back to the room, her head supported on her hand.
"Good-bye, Ladybird," he said, and there was marked kindliness in histone.
She acknowledged the words with a scarcely perceptible movement, and afew minutes later the rattle of hoofs on the road came sharply totheir ears.
Honor's anger flamed up and overflowed.
"Oh, Evelyn, how _can_ you behave like that to him!"
Still no answer; only, after a short silence, Evelyn rose and facedher friend. Then Honor saw that her cheeks were wet and her eyesbrimming with tears.
It is to be feared that her first sensation was one of pure annoyance.Evelyn thoroughly deserved a scolding: and here she was, as usual,disarming rebuke by her genuine distress.
"_Now_, I suppose he'll go--and get _killed!_" she said, in a chokedvoice.
"My dear child, what nonsense! He'll come back safe enough. You don'tdeserve that he should be so patient with you--you don't indeed!"
Evelyn looked up at her with piteous drowned eyes, whose expressionhad the effect of making Honor feel altogether in the wrong.
"He shouldn't have made such disagreeable remarks about me and theKresneys, then," she said brokenly. "All the same, I wanted to speakto him. But--I was crying, and I couldn't make a scene--with _you_there. And now--if anything happens to him, and--I never see himagain,--it'll be all _your_ fault!"
With that finely illogical conclusion she swept out of the room,leaving Honor
serenely unimpressed by her own share in the impendingtragedy, yet not a little troubled at thought of the man who, for therest of his natural life, lay at the mercy of such bewildering methodsof reasoning.