Voices in the Night Part 54
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CHAPTER XXIII
A MEMORABLE OCCASION
'A Memorable occasion!'
The phrase seemed, somehow, to be inevitable on the further side of the city, where, as Ram Nath had foretold, all of Nushapore that was worth considering was gathered together for the ceremony of laying the foundation-stone of the Anglo-Vernacular College. Ram Nath may have started the a.s.sertion, but every one else followed suit. Sir George in his presidential address, the treasurer in his financial statement, the distinguished native official who--in proposing the vote of thanks to Lady Arbuthnot for her able a.s.sistance--managed to drag in the Dufferin fund and the benefits of female education by the way! So, one by one, the delegates of the various sects and a.s.sociations who were, blissfully, to forget their differences over----over this memorable occasion!
Some added a 'most' to it; others went so far as to say it marked an era; while a peculiarly eloquent speaker went one better by introducing the 'Annals of Empire.'
But the point on which they were all agreed was--that it _was_ 'a memorable occasion.'
And there was curiously little unreality about the a.s.sertion, for everybody went about with a noticeable satisfaction that was due to a feeling of duty done. It was all infinitely proper; also pleasing, for when the initial ceremony was over and a pause came for tea between it and the giving of diplomas, it was quite a pretty sight to see the mixed mult.i.tude walking about admiring and criticising the building, that some time or another--for funds at the moment were a trifle low--would be built. And this had been made possible by the ingenious and distinctly novel device of laying out the site as a lawn, on which narrow beds of flowers followed the lines of the foundations to come, while in the centre, under what was to be the central dome, stood a model (large enough to allow the delighted native visitors to creep through it if they chose), which had been made of bamboo, brown paper, and mud plaster by a distinguished toy artist in the city, who had had long practice in the making of _tazzias_[18] for the _Mohurrum_ processions.
He stood beside his latest creation now, a perfect incarnation of smile in spotless white robes, with a muslin skullcap on his well-oiled hair, ready to receive congratulations on his work. They were many, though the English people kept theirs chiefly for the garden.
'I wish I could make my pansies grow as evenly,' remarked one lady who was devoted to hers, as she looked enviously round the reading-room to be, that was outlined by a dense border of purple and yellow.
'Nothing easier!' replied the Secretary-to-Government, who was showing her round. 'Cut them to pattern with a foot-rule--they are only stuck in for the day!' He pulled up one as he spoke, showed it to her rootless, then stuck it in again with a laugh. 'It is a regular native dodge. They are A1 at making dream-palaces, you know. Curious, isn't it? that the mushroom should grow so well in India, the most conservative of countries; but cheap labour and cheap words are absolutely demoralising.'
'Stuck in! So they are,' echoed the gardening lady. 'Just a regular child's garden; but it looks well, doesn't it! Poor things!' she added, stooping to touch a pansy with the caressing touch of the flower-lover; 'but if they were only left alone for a time, you know, they would soon strike root.'
'Perhaps!' admitted the Secretary-to-Government dubiously, as they drifted off to the tea-table where Mrs. Chris Davenant--who had presented her bouquet with charming grace--was presiding, a.s.sisted by Chris in his frock-coat with a flower in his b.u.t.tonhole.
He was, in the eyes of many around him, at the pinnacle of prosperity, for the Lieutenant-Governor, as he drank his tea, was talking to him (as Vice-President); yet he did not look happy, perhaps because he could catch a glimpse outside the tent of Swami Viseshwar Nath, standing apart from the ruck amid the little knot of high-caste Hindoos who had brought him there with blandis.h.i.+ngs and bribes, as ocular demonstration of the widespread sympathy and support the college was receiving from all cla.s.ses of the community, and who had promised to be responsible for his bodily and spiritual immunity from defilement.
By and by, Chris knew, he would have to reckon with that figure, whose brown, bare shaven head, and brown, bare legs, showed beyond a short salmon-pink s.h.i.+rt hung with a rope of big brown beads matching the tint of the skin. Such an inconceivable, incredible figure, seen behind that of Mrs. Carruthers in her last Paris frock!
Yes! by and by Chris must make his choice. If it had only been for himself, that choice, it would have been easy; but it was for Naraini also----
_Naraini! Naraini! Naraini!_
The thought of her haunted him. Her very aloofness from such a scene as this, the impossibility of imagining her in any part of it, held him captive. No! there was no place here for such as she; not even in the tent where a few of the more emanc.i.p.ated wives, and sisters, and mothers of Shark Lane were, literally, on show to the elect; and whither Lady Arbuthnot was at that very moment being conducted by an elate but apologetic husband, who was saying with cheerful pomp--
'You will find them very stupid, since they have as yet enjoyed small benefit from liberal education; but time will show.'
Time will show! Undoubtedly; it was showing results already in the foundations of flowers through which the speaker was pa.s.sing. Results that were oddly despotic, beyond the expectation or control of those who had planted that child's garden. The poppies, for instance, native to the soil as they were, had given up the pretence of root; the exotic pansies, on the other hand, winked boldly at the westering sun as at an enemy vanquished.
It was fate, or something beyond fate, even here.
'It really,' remarked Sir George almost mechanically, 'is a memorable occasion.'
'Very, indeed!' a.s.sented poor Chris, realising that it was one, at any rate, that _he_ was not likely to forget.
'Excuse me!' put in the Commissioner, coming up hurriedly, 'but if I may, sir, I should like to have a word with you!'
Sir George put down his cup, Chris moved off, and so did the two officials, to converse earnestly as they circled round that toy model of the College to come.
'I agree that it is unfortunate,' admitted Sir George, pausing at last, a trifle impatiently, 'but I refuse to believe there is any immediate likelihood of disturbance. It is inconceivable with _this_ going on.
Every one looks content, except perhaps the pensioners. Jehan Aziz, I notice, is absent, but that is only decent--and one cannot wonder at their annoyance.' Here his glance fell resentfully on Mr.
Lucanaster, who--the day being Sunday when no other entertainment was available--had honoured the 'memorable occasion' with his presence.
'That has been a most unfortunate business,' he continued, frowning, 'but you will admit that the Nawab has, on the whole, behaved well in allowing both his wife's death and the girl's abduction--though, I believe, Lucanaster is, as he says, out of that--to be hushed up.'
'Why should he allow it? that's what I want to know, sir,' argued the Commissioner. 'There is something behind, depend upon it, and that is never satisfactory with a native. The whole thing is fairly maddening, just at a time when I wanted to feed the lot on soothing syrup--even the fact that that culpable homicide case in cantonments has to be hung up because the accused is ill with typhoid!'
'I wouldn't worry about it, though, Kenyon,' replied Sir George kindly, 'as I told Mr. Raymond this morning.'
'Raymond?' echoed the Commissioner eagerly. 'What did he say? His views are always interesting.
The kindness vanished. 'Something of what you tell me. I disagreed with him, as I disagree with you. However, to show you that I have perfect confidence in your discretion, and also to back my own opinion--for, mind you, if I thought there was the very slightest chance of your having to use it, I would hesitate to give it--you shall have what you ask for, sanction to wire direct to Fareedabad after you have seen what the city is like for yourself, instead of returning to report. It might, as you say, make the difference of catching the midnight mail; though there really is no----' He shrugged his shoulders tolerantly.
'However, you had better have it in order,' he continued, taking out his pocket-book and pencil with a certain elaborate patience, and finally, with a return to his usual kindly manner, holding out a duly signed and dated service-telegram. 'There!' he said, with a smile, 'I carry forms about with me these times. Now, mind, this is a personal favour for to-night only, Kenyon. I wouldn't do as much for any one else in India, and it is only to sot your mind at ease; you can bring it back to me when you come to report! And now, for heaven's sake, let us get over this diploma business. I only wish I could come with you to the city, but I must see this show through.'
So, while the hoofs of the Commissioner's horse, as he rode citywards with the chief of the police and the magistrate who had brought the disturbing rumours, echoed down the hard white road, which was laid so evenly between a double row of mud roundels protecting lately planted trees, the show--as Sir George had called it--began. It was rather like a school-prize-giving, with men and women instead of children, for the inevitable table (covered with the twopenny-halfpenny _phul-kari_ made for the European market, which, with its sham Orientalism, has on such occasions replaced the honest red office baize) was set in front of Sir George and Lady Arbuthnot. On it were three packed posies in green gla.s.s tumblers, a pile of diplomas, duly made out in the recipients'
names, and another pile of sham Oriental brocade bags in which to keep them.
'You belong, of course?' said the Secretary-to-Government, who was standing apart during the opening speeches, to a sunburnt little lady in a wide pith hat.
'Who, I?' she answered cheerfully. 'Oh dear, no--I am not often in at headquarters, and I get on all right with my schools and that sort of thing without it, so it doesn't seem worth while.'
'Perhaps not,' replied the man of headquarters, once more dubiously. It was impossible for him to avoid that att.i.tude towards much that had to pa.s.s through his hands, so he set the doubtful point aside and listened to the President's certainties as he enlarged on the great need for closer ties of friends.h.i.+p and sympathy between the rulers and the ruled, and the excellent results to be expected from meetings of this kind. Then, of course, some one else spoke, and some one else. And outside the lawn, enclosed with gra.s.s hurdles, and set with those foundations of flowers, India was going on its way as it had gone, untouched by change, for thousands and thousands of years; and two women, furtively sweeping up a prize of horse-droppings on the outskirts of the a.s.semblage in order to make them into fuel, talked, as they swept, of the amulet that had promised safety and brought death.
'Will you come, please, and form up in line,' said a steward, fussily collecting his candidates among the listening circle. 'It will look better, and save time.'
'Oh dear! I hope I shan't get put next a native,' murmured one little lady, quite plaintively, as she obeyed.
The Secretary-to-Government, who overheard the remark, smiled; still dubiously.
He smiled again, and so did some others, when Mrs. Chris Davenant came up to receive a diploma which--it had occurred to her astuteness--might be worked to her advantage in English society. Perhaps the reflection that she had already shown her willingness to enter into social relations with the other race was accountable for these smiles, but she herself, and Chris too, were quite grave over it.
The latter, indeed, could not at the moment have been otherwise over anything in heaven or earth; for not five minutes past, as he stood dully indifferent on the edge of that circle of listeners, he had felt a touch on the sleeve of his frock-coat; heard a low voice.
'To-night, Krishn, at the "Circling of the Lights" in Kali's shrine. We meet there, Her priests and His, to settle this matter. And thou must be there also.'
He had not turned to see who the speaker was; he had known all too well. For the moment he could have laughed aloud at the hideous incongruity of it, with Viva standing there waiting for her diploma.
It was growing late. The light atoms were trooping in streams across the western sky, crowding closer and closer into rays as they sought shelter from the coming darkness in the sinking sun. There was a great hush over all things, in which Grace Arbuthnot's voice, as she read out the names of the recipients, could be distinctly heard. A hush, not a silence: that cannot come within earshot of a great city.
'It has taken longer than I thought,' remarked one of the stewards, yawning, when--at long last--the list came to an end.
'Gracious!' exclaimed Mrs. Chris--horrified at the watch Mr. Lucanaster showed her sulkily--'we shall be late. Here, Chris! take this thing while I put on my jacket.'
She thrust the diploma into her husband's hand, and left it there, as she hurried into the dusk after Mr. Lucanaster, who had gone to search for his dogcart.
'Jerry will be fast asleep, I expect,' said Grace Arbuthnot regretfully, as she settled herself in the carriage beside Sir George, 'for I told Lesley to put him to bed early and give him some bromide.
Oh! there is nothing the matter with him, George! Only, you know, he gets a little over-excited sometimes when he has a touch of fever, and bromide sets him off to sleep nicely. I am sorry Lesley couldn't come this afternoon--it must have been dull for her at home!'
Dull, however, was the last word Lesley Drummond would have applied to that afternoon's experience. When she had followed Jack Raymond into the telegraph-office at the station, she had simply obeyed orders, not knowing in the least what was going to happen. He had, however. He had walked straight up to the clerk, who had turned deadly grey-green at his reappearance, and seized him by the throat; so that violence was over, and the offender in collapse on the stool behind him, by the time that Lesley had locked the door and looked round.
Voices in the Night Part 54
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Voices in the Night Part 54 summary
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