Chapter V

Surrounded by a group to whom Byng had introduced him, Mallender was enjoying himself thoroughly, listening and talking to keen young men of the same upbringing and service--his contemporaries.

Six months at Mallender had undoubtedly depressed his spirits. After the death of his father, lawyers, surveyors, and contractors were his sole associates; for of late years the Court had fallen into oblivion; old friends had died or removed to other neighbourhoods, and a new generation arisen which knew not the heir. It was out of the question to invite guests to his shabby dilapidated home, where the water streamed through the roof, and there was no shooting. This unexpected change to a bright glimpse of his former life, proved inexpressibly welcome to Geoffrey: here were men well known to him by name, and actually an old school-fellow, who was quartered in the Fort. As they sat smoking, and discussing shop, racing, polo, and mutual friends, in such congenial atmosphere, the new-comer had for the moment completely lost sight of what he mentally called "his job." Colonel Tallboys, when he arrived, instantly grasped the situation. Here was Geoffrey full of animation and enthusiasm, debating and criticising the entries for Punchestown. This was as it should be--the lure was already working!

To tell the truth, although Mallender had spent five happy hours within the Club, these hours had passed so rapidly, that it seemed incredible when his cousin announced that "it was after six o'clock, and time to make a start."

The transformation of the outward scene appeared equally surprising. The wind had died away, the breakers merely sobbed softly on the beach; a clear Eastern night was full of stars, and the light of electric lamps penetrated into every corner. Numbers of motors were parked in the vast compound; in some sat various gay and smart ladies, sipping iced drinks, eating devilled biscuits, and holding informal meetings with their men friends. Now and then a car would slip out of the crowd, and take the Mem Sahib and her cavalier for a turn up the Guindy Road, or along the marine front,--whilst the lady's husband was finishing an interminable rubber of auction bridge. It had been one o'clock when Mallender left the Fort--at an hour when all Madras was under the spell of noonday quiet; servants were "eating rice," animals resting, the very crows and hawks temporarily suppressed--but now the city was awake; the Gorah bazaar, and Georgetown, were humming like bee-hives, heavily-laden trams, crammed with passengers, clanged and rumbled up and down the Mount Road, the old established "Europe" shops, such as Orr's, Spencer's, and Oak's, were brilliantly alight and filled with customers; motors and bicycles skimmed hither and thither--luxurious carriages drawn by steppers rolled by, whilst picturesque foot-passengers, Jutkas, and leisurely bullock-carts gave a touch of local colour to the scene.

Such was the traffic, that it was a considerable time before Colonel Tallboys' Napier could extricate itself and thread its smooth way by Royàpetta towards Egmore. As the car turned sharply through an entrance gate and up the long drive to Hooper's Gardens, Mallender was both impressed and surprised. Here was no mere bungalow, but the lofty stately dwelling of a one-time merchant prince--reared in an age when space, and rupees, were amply available.

"Hooper's Gardens" stood surrounded by fifty acres of short, coarse grass, a white, two-storied mansion with pillared verandahs, a flat roof, and imposing portico. Against a dense background of palms and shrubberies were pitched a group of tents.

"We are a bit on the outside skirts of fashion," explained Colonel Tallboys, "but it's a noble, spacious old house--built in spacious times. One or two wealthy natives live hereabouts in others of the same class. My neighbour is a Prince of the family of Gulberga. His premises are a jungle, the whole place is disgracefully kept, full of horses, mountebanks, and squalid retainers. The fellow is a _terrible_ drawback, I must confess. Well, here we are," he added as the car stopped; "I expect we shall find Fanny in the drawing-room."

In another moment he had ushered his relative into a lofty apartment, lit by carefully shaded electric lights. As Mallender advanced, he was aware of a number of people standing in a group. One of these, a tall lady, now came sweeping towards him, with an outstretched hand, and said:

"I am sure you are Fred's cousin. I am so pleased to see you."

Mallender felt instinctively attracted--few could resist Fanny Tallboys, and her kindly, warm-hearted smile.

After they had exchanged a few words, Colonel Tallboys broke in fussily:

"Come along, Geoffrey, and I'll show you your quarters. Fan," to his wife, "you'd better look sharp and dress; you know the General, like the Duke of Wellington, is always a quarter of an hour before his time."

Mallender's quarters were in the encampment, and in his host's wake he stumbled his way among ropes and lanterns into a large comfortable "Hill" tent. Here he discovered that all his belongings had already been unpacked. On the bed, lay his evening clothes, shirt, socks, and handkerchief; on a little table beside it, were piously arranged his Prayer Book, and the photographs of his father and mother.

A rather undersized native, with an intelligent, smiling face, wearing a tweed coat, cord breeches, and leggings, had hastily risen to his feet and salaamed.

"Here is Anthony," said Colonel Tallboys, with a wave of the hand. "Hullo, what's this? What tom-fool clothes are these?" he sternly demanded.

"Major Morant, saar, that very kind gentleman going England, giving me polo kit, and one cricket suit, one fancy dress, and one mess jacket," replied Anthony with voluble respect.

"And you are showing off your new duds! Mind, in service you've got to wear your white coat and trousers--_no_ fancy costume. Geoffrey, you will have to keep an eye on this fellow. Well, I must be off, it's uniform night, on account of the General, but you'll be all right in black."

Mallender felt inclined to declare that "he felt all wrong in black," but already his host was out of earshot, and Anthony and his new employer were alone.

"Master liking to see my characters?" he asked, producing what looked like a silk _hussif_, from which he unrolled and offered a variety of sheets of crested paper.

Mallender took them and, sitting on the side of his cot, glanced over the bundle. These "chits" were as a whole favourable; some were serious, and even grateful; two were humorous, one was in rhyme, and another conveyed the information that "Anthony, i.e. 'Smiler,' was capable and trustworthy, very inquisitive, vain, and a great talker, and that the writer would not be willing to buy him at his own price, and sell him at market value."

"All right, Anthony," said Mallender, as he returned the precious documents, "Colonel Tallboys knows you, and that is the main thing."

"Oh, yes, saar, and _I_ know the Colonel, since I was a _chokra_, and can speak plenty well of him. That very good gentlemans, all servants liking him; though very quick, quick, quick, and particular; getting always all shirts washed in England--three dozen going, three dozen coming, three dozen wearing!"

"That will do, that will do," sternly interrupted his new master. "Don't _talk_. I am going to Guindy to-morrow early, call me at five sharp, and order the car for half-past," and Anthony was temporarily silenced, and suppressed.

The hint of the General's premature arrival accelerated Mallender's movements. He was the very first to appear in the vast drawing-room, and had now an opportunity of making a leisurely survey of its contents. He did not fail to notice the great chunam pillars--gleaming like white marble--the polished teak floors, Eastern rugs, carefully placed screens, and profusion of delicately scented flowers; the whole atmosphere exhaled a cultivated taste, and subdued magnificence. What particularly struck the stranger was the accumulation of old furniture; objects he recognised from seeing their counterparts in great houses--or indeed in a lesser degree, his own. Here were chairs, mirrors, settees, and cabinets--enclosing curiosities and old china. Mallender was no judge, but realised that he was surrounded by many rare and valuable treasures, and was in the act of examining a cabinet, when he caught the sound of soft rustling, a light footstep, and turning about saw his hostess approaching. She carried herself well, and wore a pale yellow gown, with diamonds shining in her dark hair. Who would recognise in this dignified matron, the Fanny Bond of Martello Terrace, Tranmere?

"Oh, so you are the first!" she exclaimed. "This _is_ nice--I'm so glad, for now we can have a little talk before the crowd arrive."

Mrs. Tallboys was sincerely pleased with Fred's cousin--a handsome young fellow with easy manners, and a pleasant manly voice. There was something chivalrous in his air, as well as his amazing enterprise; how well he looked in admirably cut evening clothes!

"Come and sit by me on this sofa," indicating a place, "and let us get to know one another better."

As he accepted her invitation, she added with a significant smile:

"Fred has told me all about you: I am quite what is called 'in the know,' and I can keep a secret."

"What do you think of my venture?" he enquired.

"It's the most generous and romantic I've ever known, resembling, though in a different spirit, the impulse that carried the flower of England to the Crusades; but I'm afraid you will have the same ending--failure."

"Ah, I'm sorry to see you won't encourage me, Mrs. Tallboys."

"You are to call me Fanny; you and Fred are cousins, and cousins hold on to one another out here. Now I want to tell you, that as long as you are in India you are to look upon our house as your head-quarters--and home."

"Oh, thank you--you are most awfully kind, but I must not settle down to enjoy myself, until I've accomplished what you call my crusade."

"At any rate, you need not embark yet awhile! Surely you can spare us a few weeks?" Then diplomatically changing the subject, "I saw you looking at my china and curios!"

"Yes, I'm no judge, but you seem to have a wonderful collection."

"You will call it more wonderful still, when you hear that every object you see--they are all dear to me--has been picked up in the Madras Presidency! Oh, yes, you may well stare; and now I'll tell you all about it. Once upon a time--say a hundred and fifty years ago, and even before then--furniture and household goods were imported from England, France, and Holland, by merchants, nabobs, or military adventurers--all more or less rich. As time advanced, those palmy days passed, and the Victorian Age dawned; old, so-called 'rubbish' went out of fashion and fell into disgrace. The new craze had not set in thirty years ago, and you could pick up treasures that it makes my mouth water to think of, in the thieving bazaar, or at Franck's auction rooms in the Mount Road."

"Yes, but you were not here thirty years ago--you were in a perambulator," objected her listener.

"No," she corrected, "a pigtail! I am forty-two. However, Fred was on the spot; even as a young sub. he had a taste for old things. He was well laughed at and called a muff, and an old woman, but he had quite a nice little collection, when _I_ came on the scene. That lovely Empire couch, he rescued from being chopped up for firewood--the poor thing had only two legs. The Chippendale chairs, he routed out of a mouldy old bungalow on the top of Palaveram Hill. I discovered that charming satinwood table, in a _dirzee's_ shop of Blacktown; some of the furniture has made journeys all over the Presidency on bullock-carts when regiments were on the move, and has been battered and cracked and auctioned over and over again, for nearly two centuries!"

"Then I wonder there is a stick left!" exclaimed Mallender.

"Well, yes; of course, some invaluable treasures have gone to boil cooltie, or gram, but many fine seasoned travellers still survive. My collection is my craze, my chief weakness, and my tongue once started cannot stop; every bit has its own history. Those Sèvres vases I bought from a Toda in the Hills; that ugly gilt jar in the same cabinet, I purchased as an act of charity from a beggar, a poor Eurasian woman, and gave her twenty rupees--believing it was brass. Long afterwards it turned out to be solid gold--a bit of loot from Seringapatam. I tried to trace the woman, but she had disappeared. That priceless vase of 'Sang de Bœuf' held pipe-clay in my back verandah! The exquisite dessert service you will eat off to-night, I unearthed at the back of Hadji Kareem's shop in Bangalore, smothered under years of dust, and I'd be _ashamed_ to tell you what I paid for it! I have also a marvellous talisman--oh! I think I hear a motor! Would you mind turning on the light in the big chandelier--another find--tell you about it afterwards. I only have it lit at the last moment, as I cannot endure the glare."

Mallender rose to obey, and the splendid old French piece instantly burst into a blaze that flooded the entire room, and seemed to appropriately herald the approach of a dark-eyed lady, wearing a shimmering gown of blue and silver, and a long rope of pearls--who thus made an involuntary, but impressive stage entrance.

For a moment she halted, and put her hand to her eyes, then murmured with a plaintive smile:

"I declare I am quite dazzled!"

"So are we!" responded Mrs. Tallboys with flattering significance. "Lena, let me introduce Captain Mallender; Geoffrey, this is my old friend Mrs. Villars, who is spending the cold weather with us. You are to take her in to dinner--your seats are on the left."

Here the arrival of the General, his wife and his A.D.C., cut short further explanation. The remainder of the company rapidly poured in, and as Mallender stood by his partner watching the crowd, he was struck by the elegance of the ladies' frocks, their fashionable air, and their diamonds; among men, the military element predominated; from the General's scarlet and bemedalled coat, to uniforms of sombre rifle green or gorgeous Indian cavalry--altogether a gay and goodly gathering.

When the very last couple had overwhelmed their hostess with apologies, a tall turbaned butler, picturesque in white and gold, entered, and with a profound salaam announced:

"Dinner is served!"