Banked Fires Part 57

"The secretary would be glad, I am sure. She is Mrs. Ironsides. I should advise you to apply to her." With a smile and bow, Honor pa.s.sed on, followed by Mrs. Dalton's gloomy gaze.

"Honor Bright is a very dear friend of mine," said Mrs. Meek, kindly.

"Don't you think she is a very refres.h.i.+ng specimen of girlhood? My husband thinks she is very good-looking, but I say she is good to look at. A distinction without a difference, you will say? but not so; the difference lies in expression, which makes the matter of features immaterial. Honor has such a frank and truthful face, and a nature of the very kindest."

"I am just wondering why it is she is not married?"

"She will marry the right man when he comes along. So far I have not seen one good enough."

"It is rather wonderful how everyone loves her! Most people have enemies and detractors, but Miss Bright seems a universal favourite."

"It is not really surprising. She is universally respected and beloved.

Even the natives look up to her."

"'Respected!'" echoed Mrs. Dalton to herself bitterly. The lack of self-respect had always been the rock on which her life had been s.h.i.+pwrecked. She had failed to mark it on her chart, and was now a derelict. A jealous pang went through her and she remarked with a tinge of spite, "In fact, Miss Bright is so good that, like the Pharisee of old, she thanks G.o.d she is not as other women are!"

"You do her injustice. I know no one more charitable," said Mrs. Meek warmly.

"I apologise," said Mrs. Dalton with a sudden revulsion of feeling.

"Believe me, I have reason to know that, for she tried to do me a good turn, I don't know why,--considering the circ.u.mstances,--but I must find an opportunity for thanking her." Yet Mrs. Meek saw only discontent and unhappiness in her companion's face, and wondered.

Meanwhile, Honor pa.s.sed beyond their range of vision and was making household purchases for her mother: _jharunse_[20] made at Cawnpur, lace at the Mission, a pair of garden shears, and trifles that appealed to her as useful for the Hazrigunge bazaar.

[Footnote 20: Dish-cloths.]

While selecting a rush basket for flowers at a stall for the sale of wicker-work made by low-caste Hindus at Panipara, she overheard a conversation in the vernacular between one of the workers and an outsider of evil appearance. Their words were often unintelligible being drowned in the noises prevailing around her, but the drift of their talk held Honor rigid and attentive, with every faculty alert, and fear at her heart. Feeling secure in the midst of so much distraction, they spoke unreservedly.

"These reeds of Panipara are unsurpa.s.sed," said the outsider viciously.

"Where will you get others for your trade, now that the _jhil_, is being drained? Look you, it is the work of Dalton Sahib, this butcher of human fles.h.!.+"

"Alack! my trade is ruined. I shall have to move on and seek a living elsewhere, or die of want!"

"Thus you are turned from the village of your forefathers where you have worked,--and they before you,--at basket-plaiting and mat-making. What does he deserve for his wanton act?"

"May he die, and jackals eat his fles.h.!.+"

"That is a just saying, my brother! Even I have suffered--" for a few minutes Honor heard nothing but the loud laughter of some Bengali students who were pa.s.sing. "My only child it was," the voice proceeded agitatedly; "he was rendered unconscious, and while lying helpless on a table at the hospital, and I his father crying in the yard below, this ruthless one cut open his bowels and removed a part of the intestines!

Can anyone live without that which is necessary to life. In agony my son died, calling aloud to his mother and father,--and we, powerless to save him! _Ai Khodar!_ Listening my liver dried up and my heart hardened as a stone, while I took vows on his dead body to find a way to punish this murderer. No matter how long I have to wait, I shall--" again his words were lost.

"But brother, this is idle talk! will you risk----?"

"Care must be taken to find one suited to the job; he must have experience and courage, and"--he glanced suspiciously at Honor and dropped his voice, fearing that she might be one of those Memsahibs, who understood Bengali. So many did not.

"There is one man at Panipara--of daring inconceivable. Three months he served in gaol for--he fears neither the law nor----"

"Ss-s-h! I will see him. Tell me where--?" Their heads drew closer as their voices were lowered to continue their plotting.

Honor could hear no more. She had drawn too near and their suspicions were aroused, so that whatever else they had to say was lost in mumbling.

Her heart hammered and her pulses throbbed with fear. What were these men thinking of doing in their revenge? Was the doctor's life in actual danger?

Her friends, at another stall where bra.s.ses and wood-carving were displayed, were signalling for her to join them. She looked around for help, but not a policeman was in sight. Even then, she could have done nothing, for the evil-looking Indian had slipped away and was lost in the crowds. She had no positive evidence to offer that would satisfy the law. The basket-weaver, looking innocent and bland, sat on his haunches shouting out to the public to inspect his goods.

Honor, therefore, controlled her excitement, and decided to warn Captain Dalton again on his return to the Station, and consult her father on the subject. With an anxious heart, she joined her friends who were looking on at a monkey dance.

"_Bibi Johorun_," the female monkey, dressed in skirt and shawl, and cap on her head adorned with a red feather, hopped to the measure of the little drum the man rattled rhythmically with a turn of his wrist; while her husband, the male, in coat and bra.s.s b.u.t.tons, sat on a toy stool awaiting his turn to be called up for the War. Presently the pair would embrace in farewell, he would shoulder his mimic gun to the delight of the spectators, and proceed to march to battle to the time of the drum.

Honor knew the routine perfectly. Meanwhile his expression of sleepy indifference under the rakish khaki cap as he blinked and chewed the nuts offered by the public, was human in its comprehension. When the crowd grew pressing, Honor left with her party, hearing for some distance the man's monotonous sing-song voice urging Johorun to dance for her reward, failing which there would be a certainty of chastis.e.m.e.nt.

_"Natcho-jee, Johorun, natcho-jee!

Paisa mile ga.

Paisa, na courie, thuphur mile, ga!"_

That evening, at the Club, Mrs. Dalton drew Honor apart from the rest of the company and they paced the gra.s.s together while it grew dusk. She was evidently much agitated, and after making some clumsy attempts to lead up to the subject, she suddenly broke out with the question.

"Tell me why you told my husband to take me back?"

As Honor was not ready with her reply, she continued,

"He told me in his specially cruel fas.h.i.+on, that I owed the concession to you, for I had charged him with being in love with you."

Honor drew back shocked at her bad taste. "That is hardly the thing for you, his wife, to tell me!"

"I don't say it from any evil motive!--oh, I wish you to believe that I am past all that--I have no longer any use for malice, and hatred--even jealousy! I only want to understand you. I am a woman, too; if I cared about a man who loved me as he loves you, I should want to kill the woman who stood in my way! There is something eternally primitive about love in its relation to the s.e.xes!"

"There is love--and _love_. Perhaps you don't know--apart from everything--that Joyce Meredith is my dear friend? She has a right to be happy in her married life."

"I see. So you sacrificed yourself and ordered him to come to the rescue! He would do anything in the world for you."

"He and I can never be anything to each other," said Honor firmly.

"I am beginning to feel truly sorry for my husband. Perhaps you don't believe it? But, since he despises me so absolutely, it seems a shame that he should be tied to me for life! He should have given me my liberty long ago. You know why we parted?"

"Yes, I know."

"He might then have married you----"

"Please do not speak to me in this way or I must refuse to walk with you," said Honor indignantly.

"Oh, no, don't!--please don't go before you hear what I have to say!"

Mrs. Dalton cried earnestly. "I have no tact, and always say the wrong thing. The fact is, I am a most miserable woman, feeling every day the consequences of my first mistake. If you knew what a bankrupt I am in love and all that goes towards making life worth living, you would have the heart to feel a little pity for me!"

"I do pity you," said Honor, relenting.

"If he would only forgive me! But he is so hard. He spurns my every effort to humble myself. He has no faith in me. I killed it! But if he would only give me a chance, I would be a better woman, I swear it! A kind word and look--oh, what wouldn't I do to atone! Miss Bright, you can help me!"

"I?"

"Yes. You! Natures like yours are great." Mrs. Dalton's voice broke with a sob and she wrung her hands in genuine emotion. "You may not credit me with sincerity, but I am not wholly bad. Brian is my husband--whenever I look at him I realise all that I have lost forever--unless, a miracle happens and he forgives me! If he could do that, I would be his slave. I would be at his feet! What a life is mine! The emptiness of it!--the futility of it! Who cares for women like myself? Women at a loose end who have spoilt their lives, and are trying to patch up some kind of forbidden happiness for themselves? It is just a form of gambling; wild excitement while it lasts. But it never lasts long! Think what I feel tonight! Here am I, a married woman among so many--with a fine husband,--he is that!--hard and cold, yet such a _man_!--and I might have been so happy. I might have had children!" Mrs. Dalton broke down into violent sobbing and Honor guided her to a bench that she might weep unrestrainedly and so find relief.

It was a strange position for herself, who a moment ago was filled with repulsion, to find that she could fold the unhappy woman in her arms and attempt to console her with words.