A Bottle in the Smoke - Part 36
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Part 36

"Of the money you stole!" cried his wife, with a ring of scorn in her voice. "Not a penny of it! Come what may, it must all be returned to the Mahomedan, whoever he is," she added with decision. The incident seemed to brace her thoughts, though she was conscious that the fact of her husband offering her a share of his theft emphasised the gulf between them. Something of this seemed to strike him also. He stood staring at her with misery in his eyes.

"Oh, Hester, what a hideous mess I've brought you into!" he burst forth.

"But you'll not forsake me, will you? This horrid hunt for me will not last long. I'll get off scot free, never fear. We may be able to meet soon and go to England together. I'll send you word. If not together, I'll hurry there, and you'll meet me, won't you, dear?" he asked, clinging to her.

Hester started back on seeing the growing light of the sky.

"Alfred, you're forgetting the risk you run by lingering like this. You must go as long as it is possible. See, it will be day soon. Oh, do go, I implore you," she cried in terror, thinking she heard sounds in the back verandah, and almost pushing him down the steps. "I cannot let you perish! Go, go, oh, do go!"

"I fear I can't risk my make-up by an embrace," he said lightly, looking back as he began to go down the steps. But when he reached the gravel, he darted up again and threw his arms round her trembling figure, kissing her pa.s.sionately; then he fled, just as the silver dawn was chasing the last shadows of night from the sky.

Hester stood a silent statuesque figure, watching her husband as he disappeared along the avenue of casuarina trees. Then her dauntless spirit gave way and she fell down in a faint.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV.

Alfred Rayner in disguise, limping over the hard road with his bare brown-stained feet, and trammelled by his unwonted garb, made slow progress. At length he reached the railway station. It was empty save for a few stray pa.s.sengers who had stepped out of a train which had just steamed in. He hurried to the ticket-office, and adapting his "munshi"

acquired Tamil as closely as possible to the servants' patois, asked for a third-cla.s.s ticket for Beypore, the clerk volunteering the information that a train was just starting.

Rayner hurried to the platform and saw some pa.s.sengers, all natives, scrambling into the carriages of the waiting train with many bundles and much vociferation. He reckoned himself fortunate to secure an empty one, and seated himself on the hard bench with a relieved air.

"Off at last, and not a single pair of eyes to pry on me--or worse, thank goodness!" he muttered. "There might have been a force of police lying in wait. But who would recognise the defaulting barrister in this old hag of an ayah? I mustn't forget for one instant that I am an old ayah, or else woe betide me!"

The fugitive tried to make himself as comfortable as his circ.u.mstances would admit, resolving to secure a period of sleep and at the first break in the journey to fortify himself by a good breakfast. This, however, he feared might not be for some time seeing the train, for an express, was going at an unaccountably slow pace. Sheer exhaustion came to his aid, and he fell into a deep sleep, only to awake when the train pulled up at a station.

"Now for some breakfast, I'm desperately hungry!" he said, yawning and stretching himself with an air of satisfaction, which soon changed to bewilderment when he observed that the few pa.s.sengers were all tumbling out of their respective carriages, and that the train had evidently reached its terminus.

Rubbing his eyes he peered out, perceiving to his dismay the familiar station of Puranapore. Mistaking this train for the express for Beypore, he had been carried to the place which of all others he would have wished to avoid.

"Good heavens!" he muttered, throwing himself back on the carnage bench.

"And the very first person I see may be Zynool himself!" Then to his relief he remembered that, after all, he appeared as an old Hindu ayah, on whom the haughty Mussulman would not deign to look.

He slipped out of the carriage, saying to himself: "I must feign rheumatics and limp a bit!"

In spite of his confidence in his disguise, he could not help glancing furtively round. n.o.body, however, seemed to be taking any account of the harmless looking old woman. In fact, there seemed to be some absorbing preoccupation filling the minds of all the bystanders. The new arrivals hung about with an air of trouble on their faces, their bundles deposited by their sides, as they listened open-mouthed to the native porters, who were expatiating volubly on some matter which was evidently of general interest. The Eurasian station-master had a worried air, and, in coming in contact with the supposed ayah, bustled her unceremoniously aside.

The question with Rayner, meanwhile, was not to discover the topic of interest, but how he could proceed to Beypore. This involved some inquiries, and he was timid in his first attempts at personating his fict.i.tious character.

"After all, I'm not an ancient crone but a man of the world," he a.s.sured himself, as he limped towards the little shelf behind which a Eurasian boy sold dog-eared, dust-begrimed books and newspapers. He laid his hands on a time-table, and threw down the required anna in payment, then without uttering a word he withdrew to a quiet corner to study it. He found to his disappointment that only by returning to Madras could he entrain for Beypore. To the Central station he must go, that was inevitable, but at what a risk! Ever and anon during his cogitations he had to remind himself that owing to his disguise the chance of discovery was slight. Still, in the familiar precincts of the Madras station, the risk in daylight would be too great to run, besides he had not nerve for it, he decided. He must then perforce linger at Puranapore till after dark, and then take a return train which would fit in with the express for Beypore in the early morning.

To be a whole day in Puranapore was a dismal prospect, but it had to be faced. As an old ayah he could sleep away most of it in the women's third-cla.s.s waiting-room. He resolved now to secure breakfast, but there were no possibilities for this in the little station. He therefore prepared to make his way out, not without some trepidation, as it was his first real experience of testing his disguise. Addressing the ticket collector who stood at the gate, he explained that he had stepped into the wrong train at Madras, being bound for Beypore, not Puranapore, and was therefore minus a ticket, but had the fare ready in his hand.

The porter replied in a kindly tone in his native tongue.

"What matters the ticket, old mother, on this day--an unlucky day for you to come to our town. We need more the soldiers than an old woman."

Rayner, in a humble voice, asked the reason of this.

"What, you don't know there's fighting and rioting between Hindus and Mahomedans afoot here since last night? It is said they are to be at it again to-night only worse. This is the Mohurrum; but like me, not being caste Hindu, you don't bother about their squabbles."

Rayner a.s.sented with a nod.

"All the same, old mother, guard your venerable bones when you get into the streets," he added.

Rayner remembered his _role_ so well that he salaamed profoundly as he pa.s.sed out, and the ticket-collector looked after him, shaking his head.

"It's a far cry from Puranapore to Beypore, poor old amah! She'd have been safer there to-day than here!"

Rayner could see from the changed appearance of the pa.s.sers-by in the streets that the town was roused. There seemed also to be a large addition to the usual population. Haughty, stalwart groups of Mussulmans, evidently from the Mofussil, strode about, casting looks of hatred on the Hindus, many of whom were hurrying to close their shops and stalls, whispering ominously to each other. Even the boldest beggars rattled their gourds with less confidence than usual; and from the windows of the houses which gave on the streets he could catch glimpses of female forms looking down like startled birds. Everywhere extreme tension was visible.

"I expect they're only bottling up till nightfall," muttered Rayner. "My programme, sketched to Zynool, has evidently been adopted. Clever dog--an apt pupil, in fact! He should forgive this little blunder of mine, seeing I've proved such an excellent teacher! All the same, I little thought I was to be in at the death!"

He crept cautiously along the narrow streets in search of a bazaar where he might pick up a native repast.

"An English breakfast might give the show away," he sighed, remembering the dainty breakfast table at Clive's Road at which Hester would now be seated, but from which he was banished. Finding a stall where eatables were displayed, and cooking in progress, he crept up, asking in a humble tone for a cup of coffee, and some rice cakes. An excellent meal was provided, but after partaking of it he had to withdraw to a corner to extricate the payment from his pocket beneath the folds of his saree, so he decided to purchase one of the gay little cotton bags which he had noticed was an invariable part of the ayah's dress, and to keep some small change in it for emergencies. The bag also suggested a supply of betel-nut; for he remembered the stained lips and teeth would all go to enhance the needful "make-up." Having made his small purchases successfully, he wandered about the streets for a time, but the sun was now beating mercilessly down on his head, which was uncovered save for the muslin wrap, and his feet were beginning to be scorched and blistered by the burning pavements till he felt obliged to seek some cooler retreat.

He now made his way to the outlying portion of the town. He glanced up at the mosque as he pa.s.sed it, recalling how Zynool and he had plotted that this bone of contention should be planted in close proximity to the burning-ghaut of the Hindus. Then he strolled down to the river-side, and took a closer survey of the spot than he had ever done before. Some oleanders threw out graceful branches which suggested a possibility of shade, but they afforded no shelter from the fierceness of the sun. He began to fear sunstroke if he lingered longer without cover, but to seek shelter in any house might have evil consequences.

Limping slowly along the road, he came at length to a palm-tope and threw himself on the burnt-up gra.s.s in the best shaded corner he could find. A spell of sleep soon granted him some relief. When he awoke he glanced at his watch, and was thankful to see that afternoon was approaching. Soon he could take his way to the station, but being unwilling to enter the town again he was desirous of postponing his arrival there till close on the hour of the train's departure for Madras. He decided to stray further into the jungly scrub which stretched beyond the palm-tope, and would fain have rested in the cool-looking rank gra.s.s which abounded; but Indian jungles were treacherous, teeming with insect life, not to speak of the possible lurking presence of snakes, and he did not dare to sit at ease. The shade, however, was refreshing, and he would while away the hours till the darkness fell.

For the first time since he was faced by the fear of detection he felt inclined to review his plans for escape. Self-pity entered largely into his thoughts. He regretted he had not made definite arrangements with Hester to have some needful belongings forwarded to him, and resolved to send her an unsigned memo, directing her to dispatch his dressing-boy, whom he regarded as specially faithful, with a portion of his wardrobe to Beypore. He felt a certain interest and excitement in making a list of his needs on the leaf of a scribbling book which he discovered in his pocket, though he had got rid of his pocket-book when he visited the river, fearing lest it might become a witness against him. He began to write minute directions to his wife about various matters.

"All this will need cash, of course," he muttered, "but since she was too proud to share mine, she must manage as best she can. There's still the landau and the horses and a good many a.s.sets. She may even be able to a.s.sist me with some money. As for me, I'll ship at Kurrachi as a humble ayah--a steerage pa.s.senger; then I'll watch my chance, and come off at Aden, then with the help of my bundle--I only wish I could risk my own portmanteau--I'll be able to appear as an English gentleman, and, as such, continued my journey home under an a.s.sumed name. What a blessing it will be to get out of this vile petticoat!" he wound up, impatiently extricating the end of the saree which had become involved in some straggling tendrils.

He was delighted to find how quickly the time had pa.s.sed since he got his mind into working order, and decided that he might now venture to emerge from his retreat. As he stepped out to the road, a bandy pa.s.sed him, but he failed to catch sight of the pa.s.senger. Presently a man on horseback intercepted the bandy, and its occupant jumped out. Rayner had no difficulty in recognising Dr. Campbell, the rider being Mark Cheveril. After a moment's parley both gentlemen continued their journey townwards, which finally decided the fugitive to turn in the opposite direction.

He had not gone far when the big Jailer, mounted on a strong brown horse, appeared, also making for the town.

"They're all agog, seemingly! Zynool hasn't been able to keep his plan of attack so secret as he ought," muttered Rayner. "But it will give them a bit of a scare anyhow!" he chuckled.

Presently two Eurasian clerks pa.s.sed him on foot. In their haste one of them knocked up against him.

"Out of the way, old amah, if you don't want to be shoved down," he said, brushing past; then remarked to his companion, "I daresay the poor soul thinks she's safer on the road to-night than in the town."

Rayner followed them closely, and in the stillness of the evening air could catch fragments of their shrill conversation.

"Oh, my gracious, what a lark this is! I wonder if the Collector will come in? The Doctor thought he should, but I could see the 'Sub.' didn't want it."

"That's because he wants to protect the Collector from the row. Mr.

Cheveril adores him and looks after him as if he were a babee ever since his poison illness."

"Mr. Cheveril is an awfulee good sort--and to think he is one of us! I say, Mike, don't it give a fellow more heart to have him taking up our cause like thatt? Though to my eyes, he looks more an Anglo-Saxon than a Eurasian."

"Just what I told the young fool," muttered Rayner. "If only he hadn't mixed himself up with that lot, he might have pa.s.sed anywhere for a pucka Englishman."

The clerks had now disappeared round a bend of the road, and the silence remained unbroken till the noise of horse's hoofs sounded behind. It was the Collector himself, riding a beautiful black mare. Rayner shrank into the shadow as much as possible, but he could see that Mr. Worsley's face looked grave, though his eyes were bright, and he managed his mettlesome steed with elegant ease.