Part 21 (1/2)
”One of the artillery officers and his wife from the Mount, no doubt,”
he muttered.
Great, therefore, was Alfred Rayner's surprise in coming to closer quarters, to recognise in the elegant horsewoman, his own wife, and in the supposed officer, Mark Cheveril. Hot indignation soon mastered his surprise. His first impulse was to alight there and then, and confront the couple. But how could he, with becoming dignity, he reflected bitterly, step out of a shabby country-bandy, travel-stained and haggard after a late night at the Palaveram mess?
The sad offices for poor young Hyde would not have detained Mr. Rayner beyond the afternoon of Christmas Day, but he had been prevailed upon to remain and share the festivities of the mess, after which there had been an adjournment to the card-table. It was in the same dawn on which the riders had started for St. Thomas's Mount that he had risen from his night's play, a considerably poorer man than when he sat down. On the previous day, he had driven out in the carriage of one of the officers who had made an appointment to meet him at the Club, but for his return journey he had arranged nothing, and could only commandeer a country vehicle.
The fact of his humble equipage, and even more the consciousness of his haggard, ill-slept appearance, decided him to abstain from showing himself in the tell-tale morning light. Lying well back in the carriage, he covered his face with his sun-topee. He perceived with chagrin, however, that he might have spared his precautions, so engrossed were the riders in their own talk that they did not even turn their eyes towards the humble bandy.
”So this is the game of my most virtuous wife! Why, she's no better than Leila Baltus would have been under similar circ.u.mstances! No sooner do I leave her to her own devices for a single afternoon than she gallops off with a cavalier! Where do I come in, I wonder,” Mr. Rayner muttered with a bitter snarl. ”No doubt she'll say he's an old friend and all that, but I'll not listen to any of her excuses--nor yours either, Mister Mark. You can find a lady for yourself. You'll not steal my property! By Jove, it would be a good joke to offer him the dark beauty, Leila Baltus, since they are of the same caste! But one thing I can do--and I'll manage it if they don't quicken their pace. I'll hurry on and give them a nasty surprise at the other end--that's to say if they condescend to return to my house. Good, I know a short cut!”
He was now a little in advance of the riders and considered it safe to shout from the window, directing the driver to the shortest route.
”Look here, bandy-wallah, I'll give you double fare if you race me to Clive's Road in double quick time!”
The horse was a rough powerful animal, and by dint of frequent applications of the whip, ”the fare” was landed at his destination some minutes before the arrival of the riders.
”I do believe Alfred's back from Palaveram already!” exclaimed Hester, as they turned into the compound in Clive's Road. ”That must be his hired carriage. What a pity he didn't send for his own comfortable office-bandy instead of that wretched thing!” she added, glancing at the humble vehicle which the bandy-wallah was recklessly guiding on to the turf skirting the avenue to avoid coming into contact with the riders, though there was ample room for both.
”He must have come at a great pace,” observed Mark, glancing at the foam-flecked horse. ”That horse looks thoroughly pumped out!”
”Oh, poor Alfred, he's always in such a hurry to get back to his writing-table! You'll come and have breakfast with us, Mark? Of course, you must! You will help me to recount everything we've seen. You really owe Alfred a visit since you wouldn't come to our party. He'll be delighted,” Hester was adding, while Mark helped her to dismount.
”Speak for yourself, madam,” said the master of the house, suddenly emerging from behind one of the green blinds of the verandah, with an angry scowl on his face. ”I decline to invite your cavalier to my house!”
Hester flushed, while her companion looked pale and startled. Was this to be the sequel to his harmless effort for Hester's enjoyment?
”Alfred, what do you mean,” stammered Hester in dismay, gazing at her husband. His angry frown was intensified by his unkempt appearance, for he had not had time to visit his room.
”Mean!” he repeated. ”Well, this time I mean exactly what I say! This house happens to be mine, and I shan't invite a man to breakfast who has stolen such a dirty march on me. Be off with you!”
”I fail to understand your words or your att.i.tude, Mr. Rayner,” returned Mark, looking sternly at the haggard face.
”You do? Then I'll enlighten you! What right had you in my absence to drag my wife out on horseback, when you and she know well that I entirely disapprove of such an exercise for a lady? You have insulted me! You have tampered with my reputation, I tell you.” His voice rose almost to a scream as he continued: ”I'll be the laughing stock of Madras--all those Artillery officers at the Mount--I expect it's there you've been! I caught sight of you on the road. Ha, you didn't think the injured husband was d.o.g.g.i.ng your steps, did you? I'm only thankful you didn't come on to Palaveram and disgrace me there, Hester, but it's bad enough as it is.”
”Alfred, you are not yourself,” said Hester, distressfully, going up to her husband and putting her hands on his shoulders. ”You don't look well! I don't think he knows what he's saying, Mark. You must excuse him,” she added, turning beseeching eyes on her friend.
”If I'm not well it's you that have bowled me over. Oh, my goodness, what a pa.s.s things have come to,” laughed Mr. Rayner hysterically, throwing himself down on a chair, and covering his ghastly face with his hands, he began to whimper.
”I'd better go,” whispered Mark, taking Hester's trembling hand in his.
”Forgive me for the trouble I have caused you.”
”There's nothing to forgive--all the other way. Alfred will see that when he is well again,” said Hester, glancing at her husband's cowering figure.
Mark looked at him and then at his wife with a look of ineffable sorrow and pain, then he strode quickly down the broad flight of the verandah steps, mounted his horse and rode away, the syce leading the beautiful Arab which had carried its rider to such pleasant pastures that morning.
Hardly had the sound of the horse's hoofs died away when Mr. Rayner removed his long thin fingers from his face and stole a timid glance at his wife, who stood motionless, her back turned towards him as she gazed out after the retreating rider.
”Now look here, Hester,” he said, clearing his throat. ”You've played me a shabby trick and no mistake, but I'm not vindictive. My maxim is, you know, to forgive and forget! I'm not sorry I got my teeth into Cheveril, but I quite see now how the whole thing happened. He asked you to ride with him and you did--that's all! Come, let's kiss and be friends!”
He seized one of Hester's hands as she was moving away and raised it to his lips, but for once his swift repentance was wholly repellent to her.