Chapter XXXII

His Aunt's offer of the splendid Panhard was not accepted by Geoffrey; he preferred to depart on foot, realising that after his recent experience, he must get away alone, into some quiet retreat, there to steady his mind, and nerves. As he descended the steps, even in the dim ill-lighted premises, he received the impression of an atmosphere of wealth, extravagance, and a certain amount of slackness, secrecy, and state; moreover an establishment crowded with retainers. The servants' liveries were gorgeous, the massive ill-trimmed hanging lamps, of beaten silver, splendid Persian rugs were carelessly strewn on the flagged portico, and that curious smell, beyond analysis, that belongs to the East hung in the air. From the rear, came the bitter pungent odour of wood fires, cooking the evening meal, the cries of children, the shrill whinny of horses. What, Mallender asked himself, was _he_ doing in this native _milieu_? He seemed to be under some spell of unreality! Still walking as in a dream, he passed through a group of salaaming peons, into the dark overgrown avenue. There he encountered many vague stealthy figures, going or coming, and was presently overtaken by three men; mounted Sowars, on fine horses, who clattered by, in haste,--evidently bound on some important errand. Arrived once more at the shabby entrance he halted, and looked about, standing out of the traffic, under the shade of a great tamarind tree. As yet, he could not bring himself to face his next door relatives, or enter their well-ordered, well-illuminated English home; the contrast was so sharp between the household of his Uncle, and his cousin--that even to think of it made him flinch.

For nearly an hour, he slowly paced the dusty road; enclosed within high walls which lay between two entrances; where one, his nearest relative lived, cut off from his own people, surrounded by mystery and natives; whilst the other, great garden house, was no doubt as usual, overflowing with gay, appreciative guests, the cream of Madras society.

As he strolled along, his hands in his pockets, his eyes on the ground, he was haunted by the face of his Uncle; that awful mutilated countenance, with its jagged mouth, and wild bare eyeballs; he shuddered more than once, that warm still evening, and tried to thrust the hideous memory from his mental vision. Had such a fate overtaken him, how would he have borne it? He could not, would not, survive--no, even Barbie should not prevail. He endeavoured to put himself into his Uncle's place,--as a young man of his own age and profession, full of life, energy and expectation, suddenly shut out from his kindred, friends, and nation. Left alone, to struggle as best he might, with an absolutely hopeless future; abandoned to an existence of isolation and pretence. Why, why, should fate exact through years of misery, such remorseless punishment, for _one_ folly?

Undoubtedly Alida represented some mitigation of the sentence; but a woman of another race and outlook. No doubt, she had been an angel of mercy, yet could even Alida replace a wasted youth?--a lost world?

Those first years must have represented the torment of Hades! they made Mallender think of quivering flesh, and a fiery furnace, of a blind lark in a tiny cage, of a starving old thoroughbred in a cheap coal cart.

What could _he_ do to relieve a miserable existence? Yet if his Uncle were to be believed, he had already--if unconsciously--contributed a certain amount of interest and amusement to brighten some dark days. Doubtless sensibilities become deadened by time--for to a man of eight-and-twenty, thirty years seem an age;--perhaps his Uncle was right to stick to India, and a disguise, since Mallender of the Blue Hussars could never reclaim his former identity. It was close on eight o'clock, when Geoffrey at last gathered his forces together, and turned towards Hooper's Gardens. Here was a wide trim enclosure, guiltless of jungle, cattle, or even goats, an admirably kept well-lighted "Europe" establishment, from whence came the faint sounds of a piano, and a woman's voice.

Under the portico, the stout and stately butler received the visitor with a beaming countenance; possibly this was an indication of gratitude for past generosity--possibly, merely a token of welcome and good-will. This particular young man was well spoken of in the go-downs.

Mallender ran up the steps, into the familiar verandah, and immediately came face to face with Nancy Brander in evening dress.

"Geoffrey!" she exclaimed, lifting her hands in astonishment. "Oh, my dear boy, how thankful I am to see you again!"

"The same to you," he answered gravely.

"We have been in _such_ misery about you. When Fred saw that notice in the papers, he was utterly crushed; he blames himself for everything--for allowing you, a mere innocent, to go off alone. He says he should never have let you out of his sight,--even if he had to accompany you, and take _Fanny_! Where have you come from?"

"A coffee estate in Mysore. I'm all right now. I suppose the house is crammed as usual?"

"No, indeed, we are alone. Fan and Fred are in no spirits for company, they wired for me, and I arrived two days ago. Tom says I live here; but on this occasion, my visit lies at your door!"

"Nancy, Nan!" came a voice from within, "who are you talking to out there? Why don't you bring them in?"

"I must break it gently," she whispered. "Shall I go first, and prepare them?"

"Do, do," he urged, and stood aside, as she swept into the drawing-room.

Freddy was sitting near a lamp, pince-nez on nose, holding a paper in a limp hand. Fan was knitting with an abstracted air. They looked up when Nancy entered.

"My dear people, I bring you good news," she proclaimed, "very good news! Geoffrey is all right--he is coming!" They had both risen to their feet, when she added, "He is here!"

Knitting and paper were hastily discarded, as the prodigal nephew followed his herald into the drawing-room. His welcome was rapturous; what a scene for the stage! Freddy nearly dragged his arm off. Fanny sobbed and shed happy tears, but the many things she would have uttered, choked in her throat.

"A nice fright you gave us, my boy!" said his cousin blowing his nose, "that note in the _Royàpetta Star_--you see, we had not had news for months--my fault! my fault! and when I saw this, I telegraphed off to General Beamish, but got no reply; though I wired three times, answer prepaid; then I tried the postmaster, and he said you were dead."

"He mixed us up," said Geoffrey, "General Beamish is dead,--he died a month ago."

"Yes, so we heard to-day, and that you had been taken away somewhere."

"You are all right again, are you, Geoffrey?" asked Fanny, as she scanned him critically. She, like her next door neighbour, the Coorg Princess, noticed that he looked thin, haggard, and shabby, in comparison to the Geoffrey of old days.

"You want feeding up, that I can see," she remarked with emphasis, "eggs and milk,--and early hours."

"There's dinner," exclaimed her husband, "come along with me, Geoffrey, and wash your hands in my room; your own will be ready in a brace of shakes. Where's your luggage?"

"I've very little, but that's at the station, most of my kit is still here."

"That's all right. Anthony can get it out, and unpack."

"Oh, I did not bring him down with me, but I'll wire for him to-morrow."

(He had left Anthony at Kartairi by the advice of Mrs. Bourne, who said:

"I believe that you will come to the end of the mystery this time, and if so, you don't want to take the whole bazaar into your confidence. I am aware of Smiler's good qualities--but I would not trust him with a family secret, till you know all about it first.")

"I expect you are starving," said Fan to Geoffrey, as he entered, and occupied his old place.

"Yes, famishing. I had breakfast at ten o'clock at Jollapett."

"Then you must have got in at four!" said Nancy, "But why didn't you come up at once?--where have you been?" In Geoffrey's opinion this was Nancy's one shortcoming, her mental eye was extraordinarily penetrating,--she was much _too_ sharp.

"I had some business to attend to. I'll tell you all about it afterwards," and the traveller glanced significantly at the eager-eyed attendants, who were as anxious to hear Captain Mallender's news, as any of the company. Why all this bobbery and trouble, and coming and going? What had he been doing? they asked one another, and there was unfortunately no Anthony to set their minds at rest.

"We are a small party," said Colonel Tallboys, "we had invited a lot of people, but we put them off."

"Any of last year's lot?"

"No, Sir William and Lady Bream are at home," said Fanny, "he has just bought a place in the country, miles from everywhere, which she loathes, poor dear! She wants a house in Mayfair, and a smart villa at Roque-Brune."

"I have made some discoveries about Lady Bream," announced Geoffrey, "she is the grand-daughter of old General Beamish, and was your school-fellow, Fan. It, excuse me,--seems incredible!"

"Yes," replied Fred, "didn't I keep the secret well. I wonder what Bream will say, when he learns the sum-total of her age, and debts!"

"As for her debts, he may possibly hear the truth," said her school-fellow, "but Lena is so ridiculously sensitive about her age. She likes to pass for eight-and-twenty, and would not reveal that she was forty-two last October--no, not if she were agonising on the rack!"

"Oh, well, everyone is the age she looks," said Nancy cheerily. "Our dear friends, the Wylies, who were here with you, Geoffrey, are now in Japan, the guests of an American millionaire."

"I'm not interested in the Wylies," said Mallender, "I hope I may never come across them again."

"You will--if you ever become rich, they will both be devoted to you!"

"I need hardly tell you, that I'm dying to hear all your adventures," said Fan. "We have not seen you for eight whole months."

"No, and I've lots to tell you, important news too, but I'll wait, if I may, till we are in the smoking-room, with no audience."

"Meanwhile, I am on pins and needles," said Nancy, "and my imagination is filling in the most wonderful adventures and scenes."

"I saw some wonderful scenes when I was up in Coorg, and Mysore," and the traveller proceeded to give brief descriptions of his excursions, and experiences--omitting, however, all mention of Panjeverram, as he had no desire to bring Major Rochfort's past into the supremely happy present.

"You were somewhere near Madras once," said Colonel Tallboys, "for Proudfoot saw you, several times."

"Yes, I was after, what turned out to be a mare's nest!"

"I suppose you heard in the Hills of our anxiety and enquiries, and came down at once, like the good fellow you are?"

"Ye-e-s--that is to say, I had to come anyway."

"Oh, the usual thing, I suppose, eh?" said his cousin with a sly smile.

"The usual thing," repeated Geoffrey, but instead of a smile, a momentary spasm crossed his face.

"Now do begin at once, and open the budget," urged Fanny, when they had all disposed themselves comfortably in the smoking-room, and the butler had withdrawn, bearing the empty coffee cups. Mallender had not found himself a seat, but walked about restlessly, with an unlighted cigar between his fingers. At last, he came to a standstill before Fanny, and said:

"Well, my first piece of news is, that I am going to marry Barbie Miller!"

"Barbie!" echoed Mrs. Tallboys, then after a moment's pause, "Oh, my dear boy, I am so glad, so glad!" and she rose from her chair, and embraced him.

"I would follow suit," said Nancy putting down her cigarette, "and kiss you too, but Barbie might not like it."

"I call it a very sound choice," said Colonel Tallboys, "and I congratulate you, my boy. Yes, though there's no money, and a terrible mother, Barbie is the nicest little girl I know, what hair, and what hands!"

"I never noticed her hands," said Nancy, "_I_ always look at feet, she has such pretty feet!"

"Hands, on a horse's mouth."

"But," resumed Nancy, sitting very erect, "I thought----"

"Yes, yes, I know," interrupted Mallender precipitately, "that's all right now."

"Nothing like beginning, or going on, with a little aversion?"

"There was no aversion on either side. I admired Barbie from the first moment I saw her."

"So did I. I was always fond of her, she is a darling; but oh, my poor Geoffrey, have you thought of your mother-in-law?"

"No, and I am not going to think of her!"

"Is anything settled?" inquired Fanny, the matchmaker.

"Mrs. Bourne and Barbie are coming down next week, and something will be arranged then."

"They stay here, of course," promptly put in Colonel Tallboys. "Fanny, you will write at once."

Geoffrey, who had taken another turn round the room, again came to a halt, and said:

"There is something else I have to tell you." After a momentary pause, he added:

"I have found my Uncle."

"God bless me, you don't say so!" ejaculated Colonel Tallboys, leaning both hands on the arms of his chair, and rising slowly to his feet.

"You have found him," echoed Nancy, "then Peary must hide his diminished head!"

"Where is he? Why does he conceal himself?" demanded Colonel Tallboys excitedly.

To this double-barrelled question, Geoffrey at first made no reply, then he said, "That is his secret, and one which I am bound to respect."

"There's no disgraceful element in the matter?"

"None. But please don't question me, for I can tell you nothing."

"I think it remarkably strange, that _I_ am to be kept in the dark," said Colonel Tallboys speaking with a pink complexion, and rising temper. "How is he? At least I suppose you may answer _that_. Is he much changed--eh?"

"You forget that until lately I had never seen him."

"Yes, that's true. I knew him long ago! Such a smart handsome young fellow, full of go and enterprise, and very popular. Lord! _how_ I admired and envied him!"

"I think I may say, that he is fairly well in health, that he will never leave India, was glad to see me, and to hear I was going to be married."

"And I am delighted that you have carried out your undertaking," added Fan, "and not had all your searching and trouble for nothing!"

"On the contrary, my trouble, as you call it, has been rewarded by a fortune; my Uncle has made Mallender over to me altogether."

"Hurrah! Hurrah!" cried Freddy clapping his hands, and once more the soul of good-humour. "This is something like news! So you are actually now, as you stand there, in your shabby serge, and disgraceful 'chuklers'' boots, Mallender of Mallender, with eight thousand a year!"

"Yes, I suppose I am."

"I presume Brown and Co. have arranged everything, and made out the deeds; if you'd like _me_ to go and look into matters, you know, my dear boy, you have only to say the word and I am heartily at your service!"

"Thank you. I believe it's all right, I've not heard any details, but I'll let you know later on how things stand."

"And so _this_, was your business in Madras, my rich young adventurer?"

"Partly."

"What a match for Barbie!" suddenly exclaimed Nancy, "dear little simple girl. But only think of Mrs Miller!" she added with a touch of light-hearted cruelty. "She will be lying in wait for you at Victoria Station--if she is not arranging the house for your reception at Mallender, with triumphal arches, and a band."

"Don't mind her, Geoffrey," said his cousin, "she is only trying to draw you. I should be sorry to think you were not able to grapple with Mother Miller."

"It is really incredible, what a change a couple of hours can make," said Fan. "This evening, I felt so utterly miserable and depressed, I would have thoroughly enjoyed a good cry; now, only it would be too remarkable, I'd like to run out into the compound, and _sing_! We must fill up the house at once, I'll wire first thing to-morrow for Mrs. Bourne and Barbie. Nan, my dear, we shall have a right merry Christmas!"

"Talking of singing in the compound, and a merry time," said Colonel Tallboys, who had stepped into the verandah, "I'm blessed if the old boy next door isn't sending up rockets, and fire balloons!--the best sort too!--it's worth your while to come out, all of you! There must be some big Tamasha in his family,--probably a wedding!"