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

of one's brains. Ah I hear Sarah Jane's footsteps." He rose with almost youthful alacrity and had reached the bottom of the verandah steps before the shabby buggy and the emaciated horse had come to a standstill. He held out an unsteady hand to Mrs. Hurst, who, taking it, descended slowly and with difficulty from her seat. Diana, who had not seen her since her return, was horrified by the change which the last few months had wrought in the once beautiful woman. The beauty had gone, and the one feature which linked her with the past was the unconquerable resolution which burnt out of the sombre eyes. She accepted Diana's welcome with a grave courtesy.

"It is good of you to have me," she said. "My servants have left me, and, but for your hospitality, I should be in danger of starvation."

She followed Diana into the drawing-room, motioning the judge to remain behind, and for a moment the two women studied each other in silence. There was a long-standing feud between them, but, face to face with this indomitable pride, Diana forgot her own bitterness in a generous admiration. She drew forward a comfortable chair.

"You must sit down and rest, Mrs. Hurst," she said gently. "I'm afraid we haven't much to offer, but you must look upon this as your home as long as as this trouble lasts. Mother will be round shortly, but just now she is in the hospital."

Mrs. Hurst sank down with an irrepressible sigh of relief.

"I thank you," she said. She was silent for a little while, drumming with her fingers on the table next her, her eyes fixed ahead, then she glanced up sharply. "I understand that you saw a good deal of David when you were in England?" she said.

"Yes I stayed with them until their son was born."

"Then--" She hesitated, openly struggling with herself. "Then you will know if it's true that David--my son--is doing as well as is reported. He is very silent about himself."

"David has already made his name," Diana answered coldly. She offered no further information. Whatever revengefulness she had in her character took pleasure in seeing this woman beg for that which she would have once despised.

Mrs. Hurst seemed to understand her companion's silence, for she smiled faintly.

"No doubt you have heard rumours concerning his marriage?" she went on. "Do you believe what some people say? namely, that he knew?"

"Whoever believes David capable of a vile, dishonourable action is a fool," Diana returned hotly; and then realised that she had been out-manoeuvred.

Mrs. Hurst leant back. The smile on the colourless face had deepened with a genuine touch of humour.

"I am glad you say so," she said. "I did not want to believe my son dishonourable, and you know him better than I do." She held out her hand. "I have been very angry with you, Diana--unreasonably angry because you were too good for David, and reasonably angry because you sided with him in what I considered his disgrace. I have grown to see that I have misjudged you both. I shall not be able to tell David so it is not likely, as you must be aware, that many of us will come out of this alive but I should be glad if if--"

"--if I would accept your forgiveness?" Diana suggested.

The two women looked each other in. the eyes. Mrs. Hurst's suffering mouth twitched.

"I think that is about what I mean," she said with imperturbable gravity. "And now, if you have no objection, I should be glad of something to drink. Judge!"

The massive figure hunched on the verandah chair immediately rose and lumbered heavily into the room.

"I want a glass of water, Judge," she commanded. "Fresh water not that brackish stuff which has been making a wreck of me. And don't try to make me drink anything else. I am tired to death of champagne and lime juices and other civilised compounds. In illness one turns to a primitive state, and requires primitive nourishment." She spoke with a faint querulousness which was new to her, and betrayed, more than her white face, how profoundly her strength was undermined.

The judge rubbed his hands.

"Water?" he said. "Why, that's modest enough. Where is the supply, Diana?"

Diana followed him to the door. Her face had grown very grave.

"I think you must go round to father's office," she said in an undertone. "There is some trouble about the water. Father will tell you. Do what you can. I think it is more than a wish she is very ill."

The judge glanced over his shoulder at the half recumbent figure.

"Yes I'll do what I can," he said. "Look after her, Di."

He found Colonel Chichester, in his shirt-sleeves, engaged in making out a map. The little soldier looked up, started as he saw his visitor's face, and then resumed his occupation.

"You've come at a nice time, Judge," he grunted. "I've just heard that the telegraph-wires are cut. Can't get a word through to Asra or anywhere else. 'Pon my word, after twenty years of these little incidents, one gets rather fed up with them. Now, what the devil is to be done?"

"I don't know," the judge retorted cheerfully. "I'm not a fighting man. Tell me where you keep your family water-butt, Chichester, there's a good fellow. I want a glass."

The colonel showed his teeth in something like a snarl.

14 You want a glass, do you? Well, you can have a glass and all the damned whisky in the house, but you don't get any water, my son. I've measured the stuff, and, doling it out at a pint per head, we've enough for the next three days. Run along and think that over."

The judge rubbed his chin.

"I am thinking it over. What about the river? Has it dried up in the night?"

"Possibly, I can't say, and it doesn't matter much. We're cut off, my optimistic water-seeker. There are a few hundred armed devils squatting on their heels between us and the river, and I haven't more than a hundred men whom I could spare to make the attempt to get through. The Bazaar is restless, and if the Bazaar breaks out we shall have hot work. So there is nothing for it but to sit tight and hope that the Powers that be have listened to old Heilig's warnings. If you want any more information you'll find Hatherway in the compound somewhere peeling potatoes."

"Thanks." The judge rocked thoughtfully on his heels. "I suppose there are no advances made in your water-corner, are there? I mean if I offered a spoonful's interest could I have my to-morrow's portion now?"

"No, you couldn't. There's many a poor devil shrieking for water out there in the hospital, and a law isn't made to be broken."

"Not even for a lady?"

"What lady?"

"Mrs. Hurst is here. She is asking for water."

Colonel Chichester began to sharpen his pencil.

"Tell her it's a matter of life and death," he said quietly. "She comes of a fighting stock. She won't ask for water again."

"H'm, that's true."

The judge considered a moment. Then he made his way round to the servants' quarters. They were deserted. Under the shade of a peepul-tree he found Hatherway, also in shirt-sleeves and Mrs. Chichester in an enormous apron. Both looked up Mrs. Chichester with her vaguely cheerful smile.

"All our servants have gone," she said. "They say we have the evil eye or something, and so we have to look after ourselves. It's quite amusing. I've never peeled a potato before."

"And you're not peeling one now," Hatherway put in with a gay laugh. "You are merely committing a brutal assault. Anything I can do for you, Judge?"

"Thanks eh yes. I'm on the look out for an empty bottle or, in fact, anything water-tight. Can you give me an idea where such a commodity is to be found?"

"Try in the shed over there."

"Thanks."

The judge came back after five minutes, an empty champagne -bottle stuck out of each side-pocket, and he was smiling a little as though at some grim joke of his own.

"Coming to help?" Mrs. Chichester asked, interrupting the valse which she had been crooning softly to herself.

"Sorry, Mrs. Chichester; I am going for a little stroll. When I come back I shall endeavour to make myself useful. By the way, my son of Mars, if I shouldn't happen to turn up again in the next few hours you might put a spare bullet through Sarah Jane's head, would you? She's on her last legs, poor soul, and I shouldn't like her end to be more uncomfortable than necessary."

Hatherway glanced up from his potato-peeling. His sunburnt, somewhat haggard face had lost its gaiety. The two men looked each other steadily in the eyes.

"I won't forget," Hatherway said, and then added, in a lower tone: "It is possible that I may be going for a stroll myself some day soon. We may meet." "Better luck! Good-bye, Mrs. Chichester."

The last thing he heard was Mrs. Chichester 's voice humming a refrain from the latest operetta. He looked back, and, seeing that Hatherway was watching him, he waved his hand and then set off briskly down the high-road.

The great heat of the day was broken, and he walked more easily, with something of his old buoyancy. The native bazaar was deserted, and he skirted round by the station, running into a little party of returning railway officials. They saluted him with the cheerful confidence which his inexhaustible good-nature had won from every class of Englishman.

"Heard the latest ?" one man called. "Lines torn up for a mile, wires cut, water-supply cut, cholera rampant, and a rumpus of the old-fashioned type ahead. What price next year's leave, eh?"

"All in the day's work," said the judge, and passed on.

They looked after him and the spokesman shook his head.

"Has a nasty colour," he said. "Heart, I suppose. I wonder what the devil has kept him in this hole so long?"

The only man who could have answered the question went on his way, undeterred by the fact that he had passed the outskirts of Kolruna. He was now quite alone in the enemy's land, and beyond the protection of his own people. Like a speck against the brightness of the evening skv, he saw the solitary sentinel who watched the high-road leading to Asra; but the man had not noticed him, and he took the opportunity offered by the undulating land to drop quickly out of sight. A quarter of a mile farther on he reached the narrow irrigation canal which in better days helped to supply Kolruna with water from the river. It was now empty.

The judge peered cautiously round. It was now close on nightfall. The hills stood out black against the pale emerald sky, rising like a shadow above the fringe of forest which separated Kolruna from the river, and a sound of wailing, chanting voices drifted down on the faint breeze. The judge calculated, then slid down to the bed of the canal. Here it was night. Looking up, he could see the stars breaking through the quivering veil of heat. He turned river wards. The thick clammy mud rose above his ankles, and after the first dozen yards he had to ease his hoarse, broken breathing. After that he went on with a tenacious steadiness. The voices had grown louder, throwing a mysterious charm over the evening, and one or two words came distinctly to the listener's ears.

"Sarasvati, daughter of Heaven!"

To a man less intent on his purpose there would have been something terrifying in the repressed passion of the appeal, but the judge had ceased to notice even the laboured beating of his own heart. The walls of the canal dipped slightly, and against the light he had seen the upright figure of a native. The man was armed, and he stood with his face lifted to the hills as though waiting some signal. The judge measured his distance then sprang forward. He was big and heavily built, and the attack was unexpected. Beyond one