Part 3 (2/2)

”If that old man hadn't bestirred himself marvellously he would have been under your horses' hoofs,” said Mark, ”and yet he cleared himself with an air of dignity. I hope he isn't any the worse. I say, shouldn't we pull up for an instant and speak to the old fellow? He seems to be waiting. Look, he's standing gazing reproachfully at the chariot that so nearly wrought him destruction!”

Mark's eyes were directed to where the light from one of the oil lamps, planted at intervals along the road, fell on the face of the foot-pa.s.senger, a face which instantly attracted him because of a certain wistful, expectant look it wore.

”I think he expects a word of apology, Rayner,” he said again.

”Well, he shan't have it, that's all,” said his companion shortly. ”He needn't have been out on foot at this hour. He's got a carriage to drive in! He deserves to be run down. Bah, he's only a half-caste, after all!”

”A half-caste, did you say?” exclaimed Mark. ”He interests me all the more because of that! Perhaps you don't know, Rayner, that I too am of mixed blood. It has always given me a strong feeling of brotherhood with such----”

”Take my advice, Cheveril, and pocket that fact,” said Alfred Rayner, after a moment's silence. ”Mind, I speak as a friend,” he added, slacking his horses' pace and poising his whip. ”My wife whispered to me something of this quixotic fad of yours. She, of course, is too new to India to understand, like me, the folly of it. It comes back to me that even when you were a little kid at Hacket's you used to indulge in some talk that was unwise. But now that you've got into that fine Service--and lucky you are--you must keep a quiet tongue in your head about that fact. Believe me, not even the Civil Service will carry you through if you persist in knocking your head against that post. And there's no need, Cheveril,” continued his companion, glancing at him. ”I was just thinking when I saw you crossing that crimson strip with Judge Teape near you, that he looked much more _chi-chi_ than you did, though he's a pucka Englishman. Not a soul will ever guess it, and depend upon it Hester and I will never breathe your secret. Now there's a compact!”

And Rayner bowed graciously.

There was something so offensive in his tone and suggestion that Mark was for a moment struck dumb.

Mistaking his silence, Rayner added, in a patronising tone: ”You're taking offence at what I've been saying, old chap. I a.s.sure you it's for your good!”

”Offence? No, rather I should like to try to bring you to a better mind,” said Mark stoutly. ”These prejudices of yours are not new to me.

I haven't attained to my years without having them dinned into me at home----”

”Well, perhaps your cure will be best brought about by coming out here, after all! You'll get disillusioned fast enough. Mark my words, I shall enjoy watching the process! A vile, low set are these Eurasians--as they like to be called. Now look here, Cheveril, I'll make a compact with you. Watch these crawling creatures for six months in silence, without disclosing your connection with them, and at the end of that time I'll give you leave to proclaim yourself an East Indian!”

”Thanks, Rayner, you mean kindly, I've no doubt, but I cannot enter into such a compact with you or any man. Not that I'm vain enough to take it for granted that all the world is so interested in me or my forebears as to think it necessary to descant on them at every market cross, but truth and honour must be our s.h.i.+eld and buckler,” observed Mark in an earnest tone.

It was too dark for him to see the sardonic smile that crossed his companion's face, as he muttered to himself: ”High-flown young fool! But I must at once annex Hester, so that I may preserve him as a useful friend in that Puranapore business. I must write to Zynool and tell him to win over the young cub, by hook or by crook, before he cuts his teeth!”

The handsome Australians were now das.h.i.+ng along the avenue, and halted before the broad white flight of steps of the house in Clive's Road, which in the dusk looked a genuine marble palace. Its portico of chunam pillars was gleaming like the purest white Carrara. Lamps twinkled everywhere, for its owner liked a display of light. Through the many open windows of the large dining-room one could see the dinner table, with its tall silver lamps, artistic arrangement of flowers, and elegant furnis.h.i.+ngs, round which white-robed servants flitted.

Among the gleaming pillars of the verandah stood the lady of the house clad in s.h.i.+mmering white, with the red water-lilies at her breast and a joyful smile on her red lips.

”Here we are,” said Rayner, throwing the reins to the syce. ”If Mark Cheveril, I.C.S., will honour my humble abode with his presence,” he added with a histrionic air.

”A humble abode, Rayner? Say rather a palace!” said Mark, springing from the mail-phaeton.

”Well, a palace if you like,” returned his host with the pride of possession in his eyes. ”And there stands my princess!”

CHAPTER IV.

”I think you are most inconsiderate, Hester, to take Cheveril to that squalid suburb when he might be playing tennis with the fair Clarice at the Adyar,” Mr. Rayner was saying, as his wife and their guest stood in the verandah preparing for an early morning drive.

”Except for three reasons you might call me 'inconsiderate,' Alfred,”

replied Hester, smiling. ”First, Mark promised he would go and see Mrs.

Fellowes this morning; second, he does not like tennis; and third, Royapooram isn't a squalid suburb, but one of the most picturesque military cantonments.”

”Yes, it certainly looked very picturesque when it was pointed out to me from the deck of the _Bokhara_, with those wonderful palms dipping down it seemed into the sea. I want to make its nearer acquaintance, and I must add Mrs. Fellowes' also,” said Mark, as the landau appeared, and Hester, in pretty morning apparel, took her seat in it, followed by her guest.

Her husband watched them as they drove away, then slowly returned to his darkened writing room.

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