Part 29 (1/2)
”How on earth did it happen? Lucky you were clear of the s.h.i.+p, otherwise you would have been sucked underneath and never been found,”
remarked a friend; ”we cannot imagine how you tumbled in--did anyone _shove_ you?”
”Oh, I just tripped over a rope,” he announced, when questioned at the Club; but to FitzGerald he confided the truth--the whole truth:
”I was standing pretty close to the edge of the stage--among a lot of natives, as it happened--taking snapshots of the elephants, when all of a sudden I felt a rope twist round my legs; it gave a sort of sharp pull, and the next moment I was in the water! It's a nasty experience to have the Irrawaddy closing over your head; I have its taste in my mouth still! I'll swear that there were hands at the end of the rope, and that I saw no rope about when I first came on the pier, for I happened to be early--and it was pretty empty. Later, there was a big crowd and a lot of pus.h.i.+ng and hustling. I noticed several Chinamen hanging round and pressing together; now that I come to think of it, they surrounded me. The rope was not the usual thick hawser, but something thinner and more flexible--more like whipcord such as a fellow could carry in his pocket.”
”What did I tell you?” said FitzGerald, thumping on the table with both his fists. ”We must get a move on and try to corner Krauss; that rope was a preliminary experiment, and all but landed you in Kingdom Come!”
CHAPTER XXVIII
MA CHIT
Although Shafto had many acquaintances and continual engagements, he never forgot his first friends, the Salters, and still strolled over of an evening, accompanied by Roscoe, to sit in the veranda, talk, smoke, and listen, until his companions began to discuss such abstract questions as, ”What is the real driving force of life?” or to argue on the philosophy of Buddhism, or Herbert Spencer's ”Descriptive Sociology” and the ”Unknowable.”
When conversation turned in this direction Shafto felt entirely out of his element and slipped indoors to play games with Rosetta or her mother. Recently it had struck him that Ma Chit appeared to have become more or less a permanent member of the establishment, being so constantly with her cousin. She took an enthusiastic interest in Rosetta's brick-building, superintended and sharply criticised Mee Lay's games of dominoes, and even suggested herself as a subst.i.tute.
Burmese dominoes are black, with bra.s.s points, and held in the hand like cards. Mrs. Slater, a keen and clever opponent, indignantly refused to relinquish her post to her relative, and was radiant and triumphant when she carried off a stake of eight annas. Shafto would have enjoyed these matches, and this contest of wits and luck, had Ma Chit been elsewhere, instead of leaning on his chair, looking over his hand, laughing, throwing quick glances, and making idiotic remarks.
Once he had been not a little startled to find her tiny brown fingers inserted between his collar and his neck! He shook them off impatiently; he hated such practical jokes, and said so in no measured terms.
More than once, he had been solemnly a.s.sured, the fascination of this girl's personality worked like a charm, and it had become disagreeably evident that she wished to cast a spell over _him_. How often had her bright black eyes imparted an alluring tale! However, he felt himself well protected by an impenetrable s.h.i.+eld on which was inscribed the name of ”Sophy,” and Ma Chit gracefully posturing with tingling bangles and twittering talk, had no more effect upon her prey than on a stone image. No; although she hung over him, tapped him with too eloquent fingers, whispered jokes in his ear, and filled his nostrils with an exquisite and voluptuous perfume, she was powerless!
One evening he happened to be playing chess with Salter; Roscoe was at _pwe_; Mee Lay was putting Rosetta to bed, but Ma Chit was present, listening, smiling, and smoking her white cheroot. At the conclusion of a close and hard-fought game, in which Shafto was victorious she leant over, gazed into his eyes, and stroked his face with two caressing fingers. As he drew back quickly, she burst out laughing and exclaimed:
”But why are you so shy, dear boy? Always so shy--so odd and so foolish?”
Shafto found the siren undeniably pretty and seductive, but at the same time irrepressible and odious. He hated her catlike litheness, her undulating walk, and the unmistakable invitation of her whole personality.
”Come, Ma Chit, behave yourself!” said her host sternly. ”If you can't--you don't come here again.”
The beauty received this admonition with a scream of laughter, tossed a flower at Salter, wafted a kiss to his guest, and faded away into the veranda.
By degrees, thanks to his constant encounters with Ma Chit, Shafto avoided the Salters' bungalow, and Roscoe made his visits alone; but as it was not more than three hundred yards from the chummery Shafto had a painful conviction that, when dusk and darkness had fallen, the neighbourhood of his compound was haunted--not by the malignant and resident _nat_, but by the graceful and sinuous figure of a little Burmese girl! Once a stone, to which was attached a paper, was thrown into his room. On it was inscribed in a babu's clerkly hand:
”Do come and talk to Ma Chit.”
CHAPTER XXIX
MUNG BAW
Returning one evening from a lively dinner at the ”Barn,” Shafto was surprised to see a light in his room, and still more surprised to find the _pongye_ once again seated on his bed.
”Oh, so you've come back!” he exclaimed aghast, and a shadow of annoyance settled on his face.
”I have so,” calmly responded this late visitor; ”as I was pa.s.sing I thought I'd give you a call in. I came down a couple of weeks back--as I have some small business here and wanted to show myself to a doctor.
I don't hold with them native medicines and charms, and I'm inclined to a weakness in me inside.”
”Why, you look as strong as a horse!” was Shafto's unsympathetic rejoinder, as he sank into a chair and pulled out a cigarette. The _pongye_ contributed a special personal atmosphere, composed of turmeric, woollen stuff and some fiercely pungent herb.