Chapter XVII

Major Rochfort had not much difficulty in persuading his friend to abandon the Dâk Bungalow, and take up his quarters with him; and Geoffrey parted without regret from the mildewed, rat-hunted chamber, and toothless old matey--whose dishes were invariably seasoned with a "dirty cloth" taste! As he beheld his belongings installed in a large comfortably furnished room, containing a cot draped with snowy mosquito curtains, a writing-table, and an almirah, he asked himself the question, "Am _I_ too becoming a sponge?"

The guest was made warmly welcome by "the Miss," or Mrs. Dixon, who assured him, that "all her born days she loved the Army!"

"Sure, an' wasn't I reared in the service, and married into the Roifles," she announced in a high querulous key, "and it does me heart good, to be in the same house with two fine soldiers, like the Major, and yourself."

As for the Smiths, all three had fastened their affections upon "Jeffie" as they called him; he played tennis with the boys, and taught them to box, and suffered Mota to take photographs, and learn to print them. Extravagant was her pride when she produced a picture of her father, with white eyes, and a perfectly black face!

Mallender had written to Fanny, and to Mrs. Villars, but so far had received no reply. And with grief it must be confessed, that for the first time in their married life, Fred and Fanny had had "a few words," and these "words" were on the subject of Geoffrey. In answer to his wife's tearful pleadings, Colonel Tallboys, bubbling over with wrath replied:

"Fanny, I forbid you to correspond with that fellow, or to receive his letters; the pinch of indifference, and some real hardship, will soon bring the young idiot to his senses! I won't have him pitied, and coddled. Now, Fan, you need not argue. I won't listen to excuses. After all, he is _my_ relation--not yours. When did _I_ ever try to come between you, and the Bonds?"

This argument was unanswerable, and Fan, who knew that her husband could be very firm, and "bossy" on occasions, said no more.

As for Lena Villars, she had done with the young man; his unceremonious escape, without even a parting word, had wounded her vanity too deeply. She, who had hitherto believed that no man (and she chose) could resist her! Added to this, was the wild tale she had heard from Colonel Tallboys. The lady listened to his grievance with rapt and touching attention. So this rash obstinate boy was practically penniless, and had flung himself into a pursuit, that could only overtake derision, and ruin. He was a charming fellow, when he was sane, and danced like an angel, but she had no wish to set eyes on him again,--nor would she ever forget him.

Mrs. Tallboys dutifully bowed to her lord's commands, and wrote no letter, but she sent Geoffrey a little registered parcel, containing her treasured talisman--a curious old Greek coin with a hole in it. When Mallender unpacked the gift, he said to himself with a broad smile:

"Surely, between Sawmy's thumbs, and this talisman, I am bound to succeed!"

He had interviewed Shumilal, and overwhelmed him with reproaches,--these ran as lightly off the Agent, as if he were the proverbial duck!--and for his part, he silenced his client with clamorous condolences, sympathy, excuses, and dazzling promises of eventual triumph.

"We are hard at work on another line," he announced, "and for failure, _no_ charge is made. We will communicate most important news, at a very early date."

"I don't believe in your Jaffer and Co." said Major Rochfort as he and his guest paced the garden together one moonlight evening, when the young people had retired. "I'd be a better help myself--on the principle of set a thief to catch a thief. I am up to lots of dodges, I understand how to cover my tracks, or to bolt for my hole, like a rabbit."

"Yes, I suppose you must be pretty smart," assumed Mallender.

"I am," he rejoined emphatically. "When Sophy is bound for Egypt--she generally winters there--I drop her at Port Said and come on to the estate, put in a couple of days with Fraser, and then double down to the kids."

"How often have you been out?"

"This is my fourth trip, since Mota was born. You see, I hate to miss the hunting. This year, I'm out a bit late--but I don't want the Smiths to forget their old Daddy."

"No, but when they grow up, how will it be?"

"Ah, that's the rub, when they grow up?--especially when Mota grows up. My wife is as prim and as starched as they make 'em; she looks like an old maid; but she loves children, and since she has none, she adopts dogs. You know the little brown Pom, she calls it her child, and her baby boy--it's pitiful!"

"Perhaps she would take to your children?" suggested Mallender.

"Never! For one thing, she's as jealous as the devil. If I speak to a good-looking woman more than once, she's down on me like bricks. When some confounded gossip told her that I was always riding with that pretty Mrs. Chester--you remember her--by Jove, she took to coming out herself! The ruling passion, stronger than the fear of death. Sophy can't ride for nuts, but she's plucky as the deuce. On the other hand, anything in the shape of a scandal, floors her; she knows nothing of life, nor of men's lives; poor dear, good woman, she thinks we are saints. I'm fond of her,--though it was a _mariage de convenance_, and she has been awfully generous to me; paid my debts, and gives me a free hand. If the secret of the coffee estate came to her ears, she'd get a separation like a shot, and I'd be fired out of the country!"

"So far she has no suspicions?" enquired Mallender.

"I'm not sure. I hope not. I write regularly from the Renapilly estate, a fellow there, that I can trust, posts my letters every mail."

"Do you know, I now remember, when I spent a couple of nights at your place, Mrs. Rochfort asked me a lot of questions about India, and especially about Madras; I could not tell her much, nor anything of coffee estates, or if they were almost inaccessible. She enquired the easiest way of reaching those in the Hills. I said I supposed on horseback, or in a chair, carried by coolies."

"Then, my dear fellow, let me tell you, that unintentionally you did me a very bad turn," said Rochfort, as he carefully cut the end of a cigar--"what else?"

"She asked me the length of the voyage, and for details respecting insects and snakes."

"Oh, _she_ knows all about snakes, and scorpions! I rubbed them in extra well. No, I don't really believe that Sophy will ever get further east than Egypt--she funks the Red Sea, and cobras. I say! I suppose you know the Smiths have taken to you uncommonly; it's good for the boys to meet another Englishman, and I see you've knocked some sound ideas into their heads. As for Mota, you'll be interested to hear, that she has decided _to marry_ you!"

"Well, perhaps I may wait for her! By the way, they are waiting for us to play badminton in the big room. Shall we adjourn?"

The weather was warming up, tanks were nearly dry, the grass withered, and the ground hard as a brick,--consequently there was no shooting.

Now and then of a late afternoon Major Rochfort motored his friend into Madras. He had purchased the motor out of some race winnings, chiefly for the use of the boys going to and fro to college. As most of the community were in the Hills, or had gone home, or to Australia, no one recognised Mallender. He and his host went down to the Marina to catch a breath of the sea breeze, or to the band at the Luz, or to look on at tennis in the grounds behind the Chepauk Palace. Occasionally they took a turn in the shops. In one, Mallender was not a little startled to recognise, ticketed "a bargain," the very gold bag he had presented to Mrs. Villars. Could there be a mistake? Had it been stolen? he asked permission to examine it. Yes, it was the same, there were her initials faintly scratched by his own penknife.

"How did you come by this?" he enquired of the shop assistant, and the shop assistant on his dignity, loftily replied:

"By purchasing it,--we don't receive stolen goods."

"Of course, I know that. The reason I ask is, that I gave it to a lady, and I'm sure it's the same."

"No doubt, and the lady sold it. If you wish, I can give you her name. She was staying at Hooper's Gardens; she said she did not care about the pattern, and accepted two hundred and fifty rupees."

Geoffrey bowed, and walked out of the shop, feeling surprisingly crestfallen; and all the way back to Panjeverram, he proved a silent companion. Somehow or other, after this discovery, the magic of Lena Villars lost its hold upon his memory.

He had now been a fortnight at the big bungalow, and was enrolled as one of the household, joined in all their games and interests _con amore_, and was even accepted by the fox-terrier, and Francis--who had ceased to regard him with an air of scornful disparagement.

It was much too hot for any exertion in the daytime, the heat was fierce, all nature seemed somnolent; even the sparrows were in retirement, and ugly flying foxes, hung torpid, and motionless in their hundreds, from the banyan trees. Of an evening, the Smith family revived. There were cards, puzzle games, and music on the gramophone; and Mrs. Dixon occasionally obliged with an Irish song; she had still a sweet haunting voice, and accompanied herself vigorously on the concertina. Subsequently there was family service,--an institution unfamiliar to Mallender. Major Rochfort read a chapter and some prayers to his household, which included Francis, Anthony and several Catholic servants,--and then the day for the young people was closed.

Although Mallender was adopted as one of the family, consulted about domestic affairs, domestic animals, and education, he did not intend to remain a fixture at the Nabob's House. On the contrary, he was in a condition of acute unrest; not only was he hoping for tidings from Jaffer and Co., but was pinning a certain amount of faith on Francis,--who according to his employer, had friends and relatives in all parts of the Presidency, and the details of every well-known, or even merely guessed at, scandal, or disappearance, at his finger-ends. It was a fact, that Francis and Anthony were laying their heads together, and elaborating a wonderful itinerary for Anthony's master.

One sweltering day just after tiffin, Mota brought in the dâk. She gave several letters to her father, and the Madras _Mail_ to Geoffrey. After picking out the most interesting items of news, his eye fell casually on "Arrivals at Spencer's Hotel. Mrs. Rochfort and maid."

Could it be Rochfort's wife? He was about to draw attention to this announcement, when a glance at his friend restrained him. He was reading a letter; his colour had turned a greyish white, and great beads of perspiration rolled down his face.

"Good Lord, Mallender, she has come out! and I'm done!" he exclaimed hoarsely. "This letter, forwarded from the estate, is four days old. Sophy has been four days at Spencer's Hotel. Here--read it," and as he offered the letter, the paper rattled in his hand.

"SPENCER'S HOTEL, MADRAS.

"DEAREST ROBERT," it began,

"Won't this be a nice surprise for you? I am actually in Madras; do
come and fetch me as soon as you receive this, for I'm nearly
grilled alive, and poor Parsons is in a state of collapse. We only
arrived to-day, via Colombo and Tuticorin,--such a scorching land
journey! My old friends the Herrapaths who are going round the
world, persuaded me to accompany them from Port Said, so instead
of returning home, I faced the other way. Was I not courageous? I
made up my mind instantly, and just came off--I thought it such a
splendid chance, to visit your wonderful _coffee_ estate. Longing
to see you.

"Your loving SOPHY."

"She will have to know, now," remarked Mallender, as he returned the epistle. "No question of that."

"Certainly not," rejoined Rochfort, who had partly recovered from the first shock, "I shall face it out! Take her up to Ooty, tell her there is small-pox on the estate, and hustle her off home. You don't agree, I see."

"No, since you ask me, I don't."

"After all, it wouldn't work. No, on second thoughts, the Ooty club is full of planters, and they would give me away, as a rank impostor. Fraser, my friend, is in Australia; this is not the busy season. I see no escape," and he turned on his companion the eyes of a desperate man. "By God, I've a mind to put an end to myself!"

"What good would that do? you have to think of the Smiths. I see nothing for it, but to make a clean breast of it," answered Mallender firmly.

"Ah, it's easy to talk! I never could face her. I'm awfully sensitive, I--I--I've no moral courage," and he completely broke down, and presented a particularly distressing example of sheer cowardice!

His companion gazed at him in astonishment; Rochfort the smart, authoritative, society man, a popular fellow, a leader in his own part of the world; here, on the other side of the globe, faced with a serious crisis, was weaker than many a woman, and sobbing like a child!

"Look here, Rochfort," he said at last. "Pull yourself together, write a letter, and I'll take it to her, this afternoon."

"Mallender," raising his head, "you _are_ a friend! I warned you, that you little knew what you were letting yourself in for, when you started this crazy chase of yours,--here is an instance, you see! I'll get a stiff peg, and write, if I can, but I'm so confoundedly shaky, I don't know if I'll be able to form a word, no, 'pon my soul I'm no use at a crisis like this! an awful thing, that bowls you clean out. Here I stand between two fires, 'the kids and Sophy,' God knows I love them both,--but I'm bound to lose one, or the other. If I stick to the kids, Sophy will get a separation,--or what will come to the same thing; and if I go home with her, I'll never see the others again. So there it is! I'm in the devil of a mess," and once more, his voice broke.

"Write your letter, and confess yourself like a man," urged Geoffrey, "the longer you leave it, the worse it will be. I'm going out to order the car."

"Stop here, my old head on young shoulders! you stay and help me write it. What can I say? How in God's name am I to begin--I'll never do it."

"You must," rejoined Mallender, "and it's a job you'll have to take on alone. I'll give you fifteen minutes, while I have a tub, and change; don't let it be long; hold nothing back, and whatever you do, _make it plain_."