Part 34 (2/2)

But Leila Baltus would not allow him to escape. Running after him, she laid her hand on his arm.

”Don't be shy, Alf! You know you've come to kiss and be friends! La, but whatt a guy you do look!” she exclaimed with a giggle, getting in front of him. ”I say, did _she_ turn you out like thatt after hearin' the news from Aunt Tilly and me this veree afternoon thatt your pa was a half-caste? I swore I'd be even with her and I've got my wish. Ha, ha!”

And she danced in front of him, obstructing his efforts to pa.s.s her.

”You fiend! What are you saying?” cried Rayner in a desperate voice.

”You didn't dare to do that! Get out of my way, I'm in no mind for your jokes!”

”Ho, ho, thatt's how it is--your fine wife's done with you, and yet you won't be in with me! Come, Alf,” she said in a persuasive tone. ”I'll get you a nice prawn curry for the sake of old times, late though it is.

What a good thing I was taking a gasp of air past midnight!”

”Out of my way, girl! Do you wish to drive me mad?” cried Rayner, as he forcibly detached the girl's hand from his arm and pushed her against the wall, while he took to his heels and ran till at length, hearing no footsteps behind him, he concluded that he had got rid of his tormentor, and slackened his pace.

”I wonder if the spiteful minx did really go and pour out her venom on Hester? Well, I feared it might come, and now that everything is tumbling about my ears it doesn't much matter. There's no future for us in Madras, that's clear, but I've sharp wits, I'll make a living at home--and the Bellairs have influence. Hester will never forsake me,” he murmured with an encouraged air. ”We'll set sail at once for England.”

He was now pa.s.sing a riotous haunt, which even at this hour echoed with boisterous voices and laughter, and flaring lights streamed from the verandah where loungers drank and smoked, but he turned away his eyes in disgust and sped on his way. As he walked along one of the more secluded roads of Vepery, his eye lighted on a white gate on which was written, in letters that he could trace in the clear moonlight--Freyville.

”Why, that's the name of _his_ house,” he muttered, staring with fascinated eyes on the abode of his father. ”Strange that I should have stumbled on it to-night of all nights!”

It had a placid, winning air; two of the wide windows which gave on the verandah stood open and a light burned within. He could see a grey head bending over a big book which lay on a table.

For a brief moment a sudden impulse came to the fugitive in his desperate plight. Should he walk in and present himself to the old man?

A swift intuition whispered that even after all that had come and gone a hand would be held out at the eleventh hour to save him. The threatening hoofs of the Australians, the insulting words spoken in his verandah, and the repudiation at the beach--all would be blotted out by that one word ”father”; ay, and more, the means to extricate him from the pit which he had digged for himself and into which he had fallen, would most surely be forthcoming. Even now it was not too late to compromise with Zynool and the Bank. The man seated there could doubtless do it for him.

Would he say that needful word, he asked himself, as he laid his hand on the latch of the white gate. Just at that moment, the silent reader in the silent room raised his head. The searching eyes looked out as if stirred by some consciousness that something untoward was afoot.

”No, I shan't play the returned prodigal--not in my line,” muttered Rayner, suddenly dropping the latch. ”I'll rather cut the whole concern--work my way to Karrachi, arrange to meet Hester when safer, hurry home to England, and turn over a new leaf there.”

Striding rapidly on his way, he never halted till he reached the precincts of Clive's Road, where he began to tread more cautiously. He removed his boots, pulled his turban down over his eyes, and kept close to the hedge which skirted the compound, starting even at his own shadow, and listening intently to every sound that broke the silence of the Indian night.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

Hester was still sitting in the verandah waiting her husband's return.

Her own preparations for the projected journey to the hills were well advanced, but there was still a good deal to settle before their departure, and she had expected Alfred to hurry home earlier than usual to complete all arrangements. Not realising how late it was, she reckoned that he must have been detained by some important interview with a client. As she sat with folded hands wearily waiting, her thoughts suddenly reverted to the disagreeable visitors of the afternoon and their extraordinary communication. It seemed to take shape in her mind for the first time and she sighed softly.

”I only wish Mr. Morpeth had been Alfred's father! How differently he would have brought him up from that silly aunt whose memory he despises!”

But the story was so evidently the outcome of malice that it was hardly worthy of consideration. Perhaps this Leila Baltus had been a former acquaintance of Alfred's. The thought had occurred to her before, and now she felt certain of it, and yet it seemed strange in the light of his bitter prejudice against the Eurasian community. But evidently the girl did owe him a grudge, and it was not pleasant to think of; so Hester tried to dismiss the incident from her mind.

She rose from her lounging chair and began to pace up and down the verandah, looking out on the moon-silvered lawn and drinking in the peace of the midnight landscape. A slight movement of one of the side blinds of the verandah which had not, like the others, been raised at sunset, now arrested her attention. She drew some steps nearer. Through one of the c.h.i.n.ks of the rattan, which was being gently pushed up, she caught sight of a pair of eyes. For a moment she stood riveted to the spot with terror, then she turned with the intention of rousing the ”maty,” whom she knew to be stretched in deep slumber in the verandah at the back of the house, but a voice whispered through the c.h.i.n.ks--”Hester.”

The tone that fell on her ear was not familiar. Was it a ghostly presence that had crept near her? Those eyes had looked so terrible.

They were withdrawn now, and she heard a light footfall on the steps which froze her blood within her. Suddenly her husband stood before her in his strange garb and with so wild and distraught a bearing that her terror was hardly lessened.

”Alfred,” she gasped. ”What is the matter? Why have you come like this?”

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