The Daughter of Brahma by I. A. R. Wylie (to read list txt) 📕

"Good God alone?"

"No with her brother Rama Pal."

Hurst recoiled. Then, recovering himself, walked across the room to the writing-desk. The drawers stood open. All that his wife^ possessed in letters a few written by his own hand in days of unavoidable absence had gone. Four bank-notes lay on the table, spread out with pathetic neatness, and on top of one Hurst saw the minute gold circle of his wife's wedding-ring. He picked it up and slipped it on to his own finger. His face had grown old-looking.

"I did not know that Rama Pal was her brother," he said dully.

"Nor did Rama Pal know probably until a short time ago. His father and hers, Nana Balagi, kept the secret until it suited him to use it. You will remember Nana Balagi murdered your father, David. Your father knew too much, and you know too much. There is a double feud between you, my young friend."

"What do I care? If Rama Pal has decoyed--"

"There is no question of decoying," was the quick interruption. "Sarasvati went, I believe, of her own free will. You do not believe me?" The Professor came across the room, and faced the younger man in an outbreak of passion. "You saw her daily, and you do not know what you you and your narrowhearted, blind, bigoted people have done? But I knew, though I saw her face only for an instant, and when I saw Rama Pal I knew that his opportunity had come. Her heart was broken, David Hurst, and you you haf broken it!"

For an instant Hurst's brows contracted, then he saw something in the blazing eyes which caused him to turn away, disarmed, silenced by a grief as bitter as his own. Heilig shrugged his shoulders.

"Why, yes I lufed her," he said simply, and with a sudden gentleness. "Why not? In a sense she was my child. I found her I grew to luf her as the most divine thing in my life. I would haf given my life for her if it would haf helped. I am an old man but old men haf their dreams. I trusted my most lovely one to you, and you haf destroyed her. Perhaps I was wrong to blame you what we call civilisation is too strong for most of us and now is no time for reproach. I haf told you that Sarasvati's heart was broken. That was as a weapon in your enemy's hand, David. But there was something else something worse." He hesitated, and then added, slowly and distinctly: "Sarasvati was not your wife, and she knew it."

"Heilig, are you mad?"

"Intolerably sane, David. Your marriage was invalid."

"Father Romney married us," Hurst exclaimed proudly. "In the eyes of God--"

The Professor stamped in a sudden fit of rage.

"Cant, cant, David! Do you think people care what God thinks of marriage? If they did, many an unhappy woman whom they have cast out in disgrace would call herself * wife.' No, no, the world is against you. At the present moment, no doubt, Kolruna is discussing legalities in general your marriage in particular. A visiting Roman Catholic Bishop started it. He had heard rumours of the affair, and made investigations. As a result, Father Romney has been suspended."

"In pity's name why?"

"Because he performed a ceremony that in the eyes of his church was illegal. You were both doubtful converts. You had no proper witnesses. I did not count I am a heathen. It's no use cursing at facts, David. When you go to a firm, you haf to let them manage your business in their own way. We were all a little mad that night, David a little outside ourselves, as the saying goes. Your enthusiasm swept us off our feet. And afterwards well, it never occurred to us to think about it; it would haf seemed sacrilegious to haf doubted anything so sacred."

He stopped a moment. Hurst was staring sightlessly out on to the rain-swept street. Sarasvati's last words recurred to him with a double tragic significance. "I have forgiven," she had said, and had gone from him believing in her own dishonour and in his. He turned quietly to his companion.

"Well?" he said.

Heilig repeated his impatient shrug.

"When we realised what had been done I came post-haste to England. I hoped to reach you before the scandal, so that you could put things straight. I was too slow. Rama Pal must have heard, and used his knowledge for his own purposes."

"What is his purpose?" in the same level tone.

Heilig came across the room, and caught the younger man by the arm.

"Do you not remember the first evening we met, David? We saw him then the pious Hindu convert at the head of his band, and I told you that he was a devil, and one day would set his torch to the powder. That day has come. The mine of religious fanaticism is prepared, and by the word of Sarasvati, the daughter of Brahma, it shall be lighted. Before another month all India will be ablaze. I know, I haf seen. I haf been down in the secret vaults beneath the temple. I haf seen arms piled upon arms. I haf warned the Government, but I know not if they haf listened to me. If indeed the daughter of Brahma should return to the temple Kolruna at least, will be lost."

Hurst threw up his head. He had thought of Diana on her way already of his mother. The primitive forces of his nature were awake. Despair was forgotten in a thirst for action.

"Every port in England and in India must be informed," he said between his teeth. "We shall stop them it is impossible that they should get through."

"You underestimate, like all your race," Heilig retorted. "Rama Pal is well served, and he will not take the ordinary route. No doubt you are right no stone must be left unturned but--"

Hurst crossed the room and rang the bell.

"I shall start overland for India to-night," he said. "I may be able to catch the boat at Marseilles. Whatever happens, I must be with them. If I could see her, only for a moment--" He stopped, deep in thought. Heilig shook his head.

"Much good you will do. Trotzkopf I " he muttered, "she is lost to you."

"Lost to me? She is my wife yes, in my eyes my wife, Heilig, and I loved her, and, in spite of all, she loved me to the end. I shall win her back, Heilig. India those dear to me my own honour are at stake."

For the first time Heilig's grim face softened with the old friendship.

"I am glad, David. I was afraid I am ashamed now of my own fears. I will come with you. We will do what we can; but I know too much to hope much."

"You know! "Hurst exclaimed half impatiently. "You surmise you can prove nothing."

Heilig's brows knitted themselves.

"Perhaps not. But I haf a fancy to you a strange fancy a superstition call it. May I see your son?"

With a brief nod Hurst led the way out of the room. His mind, working in a fever of impatience, had carried him already far into a future of swift, decided action, and his eyes, blinded to the present by troubled visions of what was to come, saw at first no change in the quiet, pitiful little figure lying amidst the flowers. Heilig bent down, and, with a tender hand, pushed aside the stray blossoms from the baby forehead. Then a low exclamation broke from him.

"A surmise!" he said; " more than that, David! Look the mark of Vishnu! I was right the daughter of Brahma has gone back to her temple Sarasvati is lost to you and to us for ever."

CHAPTER VI

IN WHICH HISTORY THREATENS TO REPEAT ITSELF

IN Kolruna there was a great silence. The cheery drums and pipes of the regimental band were still, no light woman's laughter came down with the slowmoving air, and Death, travelling under the grim name of Cholera, alone danced at nightfall in the shadows of the empty gardens.

It was near four o'clock on the third day of the outbreak. A blinding, sickening heat laden with pestilence still hung like a cloud over the station, and the sound of footsteps on the deserted street brought one or two hollow, terror-stricken faces to the doors of the native hovels.

"The Lord Sahib has drunk of the vine," an old shrivelled Sudra woman whispered to her son. "Let not his denied shadow fall upon thee, else shall the curse come to us." And they shrank back further into the filth and darkness of their home.

The judge went on his way. He reeled, lurching from side to side, and keeping to the centre of the road more apparently by instinct than with any clear intention. He was not a pretty object. He had not grown thinner, but his flesh hung loosely about his heavy frame, and his face was purple and blotchedlooking. Even his clothes, once so immaculate, had gone the way of ruin. They were tattered and dirty, and the high boots whose lustre had been the pride of his leisure years were caked with a week's dust. But in spite of it all he swaggered a little as he saw the dark faces of his watchers; he pulled himself upright and readjusted his helmet and retained a certain wavering dignity until he reached the Chichester bungalow. There, having negotiated the half a dozen steps which led on to the balcony, he collapsed on to the wicker lounge. Attracted by his hoarse breathing, Diana Chichester came out of the drawing-room. The strain of anxiety and physical hardship had already begun to leave its impress on her features, but compared to the man before her she looked splendidly well and vigorous. The judge nodded at her.

"Nice afternoon, Di," he said with sarcastic cheerfulness. "I've just strolled over to ask if you'd extend your hospitality to Mrs. Hurst. She's knocked up, and her servants have left her in the lurch. As she has stuck to the station through thick and thin I thought you'd do the neighbourly."

Diana passed her hand over her fair hair.

"Of course," she said. "How is she coming?"

"My Sarah Jane is making a last journey with her," the judge returned. "Sarah Jane, being more like a clothes-horse than a genuine quadruped, I thought it kinder not to overburden her. After this last service she will receive the reward of a gentle quietus." He patted his hip-pocket significantly. "What's the latest, Di I "he then asked. "How are things going?"

"Badly," she answered. "There are a hundred men down, and the whole regiment ought to be in quarantine; but of course we can . do nothing. It's certain that we're in for trouble again. No train arrived from Asra this morning, and father believes the lines have been pulled up. He has just sent Hatherway down to telegraph." "Humph." The judge looked up at her with a faint twinkle of his eye. "It's a good thing most of the pretty ladies have gone up to the hills, isn't it? Don't you wish you'd stopped in merry England, Di?"

"No. I'm thankful for action. Besides, what would my mother have done?"

"That's true. Who's helping her?"

"Every one Father Romney and Mr. Eliot chiefly. They work together like brothers. Father Romney knows almost as much about cholera as Dr. Helstone himself, and Mr. Eliot is getting quite thin in his apprenticeship." A faint smile crept into her steady grey eyes. "It's funny what a little difference creed makes when it comes to a common danger."

The judge pushed back his helmet and mopped himself.

"Not so funny after all, Di. * Grattez le Russe, et vous trouverez le Tartare,' as our French friends say, and I venture to paraphrase ' Grattez la religion, et vous trouverez l'homme.' I hope I am talking sense, but in this heat one can hardly be sure even