“how is it possible that i should gain more information regarding premi?” asked alicia sadly, as she sat alone with robin at the breakfast table, kripá dé preferring to eat his food sitting cross-legged on the floor. “i am certain that i should not be admitted into the fort were i to attempt to go there this morning. the women paid me little attention yesterday, and darobti was offended at my question regarding premi. i do not like to visit where i am not welcome; i cannot go to the fort to-day.”
“yet to-day seems our last chance,” observed robin, “as to-morrow the zenana is sure to be closed. could you not ‘screw up your courage to the sticking-point’ once more, dear alicia, and attack the fort like a gallant missionary lady?”
“it would be of no use,” said alicia; “i am not suited for capturing forts. i should only meet with repulse and defeat. if there were a shadow of hope—”
“i have it!” exclaimed robin suddenly, clapping his hand to his forehead as if to prevent the escape of a thought. “i beg your pardon for interrupting you, alicia, but an idea has just come into my head. i can insure you a welcome, i can insure you an audience, if—”
“if what? i am curious to know,” said alicia.
“if you will only go to the zenana in your wedding dress, decked out with your jewels.”
“you are joking, robin,” said alicia.
“i was never more earnest in my life,” exclaimed robin, and his bright, earnest eyes showed that he meant what he said. “the bibis might resist you in your fawn-coloured print; but donning your gleaming white satin, with the pretty little slippers to match—”
“you absurd boy!” interrupted alicia, “do you think that i would cross that dirty court-yard in white satin slippers?”
“yes, if it were a very slough!” exclaimed robin; “if that were the only way of getting into the house. do you not see,” he added more quietly, “that if you display your jewels you may very well ask the hindu ladies to show you theirs? and should a black locket appear amongst them, why, you would pounce down upon it like a cat on a mouse!”
“robins scheme is not so very wild as it seemed at first,” thought alicia.
“what say you to my plan?” asked the lad.
“that it would be all very well—if you could only carry it out yourself.”
“i!” exclaimed robin, with a burst of uncontrollable mirth. “fancy me in white satin, attempting to force my great splay-foot into one of your delicate slippers!”
“this is too serious a matter for mirth,” said alicia, who for once could resist the infection of robin’s laugh. “of course if any one goes, i must go. but it would be so very strange to put on finery here—in this jungle!”
“it would be making the very best use of finery,” cried robin, who was grave enough now. “it would be consecrating it to the cause of humanity. i never thought when i saw you arrayed in your wedding attire, and considered you almost too fine to be my sister, that you might make it a means of delivering a zenana prisoner, and perhaps of bringing her under christian influence.”
alicia sighed, reflected a few moments, then said—“robin, we must have a prayer together before i venture, i feel so weak and nervous. i never engaged in anything so strange and difficult before.”
the brother and sister knelt down together, and kripá dé prostrated himself on the floor, though he could only guess the import of the prayer. after its conclusion alicia went to her own room, unlocked and opened one of her large boxes, and from its envelopment of silver paper took out the dress which she had worn at her bridal.
some quarter of an hour afterwards alicia, blushing under her long white veil, returned to the place where she had left robin.
“how absurd i must look in this dress!” she observed, glancing shyly at her brother.
“lovely as an angel,” thought robin, “and going on the errand of an angel;” but he only said aloud, “i admire you more in that white satin now than i did on the first day that you wore it. come, alicia; your doli is ready in the veranda.”
“i hate being seen, even by the kahars; and how can i pass through the city so strangely attired?”
“we will draw down the blind on either side; no one shall see you.”
“my satin will be utterly crushed in that box,” cried alicia, lifting up the rich folds which swept the veranda.
“i’ll help to pack in the satin; and if the worst comes to the worst, a crushed dress is better than a crushed life like premi’s.”
“robin, you must go with me; i feel myself in such an absurd position,” said alicia, as she with difficulty settled herself in the cramped space of the doli.
“i will go as far as i may, and wait outside as long as i can,” was robin’s reply.
robin walked by the side of the doli, playfully prompting, encouraging, supplying his sister with urdu words, throwing the light of his own joyous spirit over the little expedition, till alicia caught his own love of adventure. there was nothing so terrible to encounter, nothing so extravagant to do, nothing so difficult to accomplish. alicia was certainly going beyond missionary rules and regulations, but so peculiar a case had never been contemplated by those who had framed them. alicia was full of brightness and hope by the time that she arrived at the outer door of the fort.
the kahar knocked with the rattling chain. he knocked twice, thrice, and yet again; only the bark of a dog gave reply.
“there is some one within; i hear moving and talking,” said robin, and he himself energetically repeated the summons at the door, which brought a shrill reply from inside, “fursat nahim” (no leisure), which is the panjabi form of saying, “not at home.”
“show yourself,” said robin to alicia; “i see a child’s face peeping over the wall.” as he spoke he threw up the blind of the doli on the side nearest to the fort, and then himself rapidly retreated out of sight.
alicia put one slippered foot out of the doli, and extended one arm, with its satin sleeve and golden bracelet,[6] to extricate herself and her voluminous dress. the effect was magical. almost a scream of astonishment came from the top of the wall; then there was the sound of a rapid rush within; the door was thrown open, and amidst children’s shrill cries of “mem! mem! devi [goddess], devi!” alicia entered the court-yard, to be almost mobbed by a crowd of little urchins of both sexes, who came staring and shouting to welcome her in.
6. it need hardly be said that the lady’s example is not given for imitation. a missionary’s dress can scarcely be too quiet and unostentatious. it would be worse than foolish for one to draw on herself the attention which should be given to the message which she bears. when the lantern throws a scripture picture on the sheet, the exhibiter carefully avoids standing in front of it, lest he should himself hide what he seeks to display.
alicia, a little bewildered and half deafened by the noise, picked her way as carefully as she could along the yard, which seemed to be even more dirty than usual. she was cumbered by the necessity of holding up her long dress, while at the same time protecting her head with her white-covered umbrella. it was disagreeable to be jostled by children whose every touch must leave a mark on her white satin; but alicia went on till the second court was reached, and then the dark stair. beyond this there were great pushing and scrambling; alicia was almost thrown down the steps by her noisy, excited young escort. presently she emerged into daylight, flushed and heated, with her beautiful dress by no means improved by the crush.
there was now no difficulty in collecting women; they came from every likely and unlikely place to stare on an english lady, or rather on the bridal dress which she wore. premi alone stood on the roof above, with darobti’s fat baby astride on her hip.
“sit down, sit down!” cried chand kor. “sit down, sit down!” echoed the one-eyed jai dé. the bibis were evidently determined to indulge their curiosity to the full. “keep back; bad zát” (low caste), shouted darobti to the children who were pressing around alicia to stroke her smooth satin and finger her jewels.
when a little order was restored, alicia had to play show-woman to the various parts of her dress and the ornaments which she wore. her satin slippers, her silk stockings extorted many a “wah! wah!” the women feasted on the sight of such pretty novelties. alicia had to take even the silver ear-rings from her ears, to be passed round and admired. the lady’s patience was almost exhausted before she had any opportunity of pursuing the object for which she had come. alicia seized that of the first lull in the noise and excitement.
“now show me your jewels—all, all!” she cried, repeating the lesson learned from robin.
the bibis were by no means loath to display their ornaments: chains and head-jewels of marvellous make, rings for thumbs and sheaths for toes, nose-gems and ear-gems, and jingling anklets, bracelets of gold, silver, and glass, were eagerly thrust on the visitor’s notice. but in vain did alicia’s anxious eyes search for a black locket amongst them.
“all, all,” she repeated—“show me all.”
at length the bibis were tired of displaying their treasures; the mem sahiba seemed to have an unreasonable avidity for seeing jewels. alicia, heated and tired, began to despair of ever finding what she had come expressly to see. some of the women had gone away, chanel kor had taken to her hookah, and alicia was about to rise and depart, when darobti opened a curious old box to take out betel to chew—a very common custom amongst eastern bibis. at the bottom of the box lay what looked like a dirty bit of rag, but alicia’s quick eye detected in that rag something of european manufacture.
“what’s that?” asked the lady, pointing to the rag.
the question did not appear to be understood; at any rate it received no reply. alicia put out her own jewelled hand, and to darobti’s surprise pulled the dirty thing out of the box. it was part of a child’s sock, and out of it something dropped on the floor. alicia could not repress an exclamation of surprise and delight: it was indeed a black locket in the shape of a heart!
darobti stooped to pick it up; but the eager lady was quicker than she. alicia was breathless with excitement; she actually held in her hand the two things that might prove to others the fact of which she had now not the slightest doubt—that premi was her own cousin. “i have you, and i’ll keep you,” thought alicia, after hastily ascertaining that there was an inscription on the locket, and initials marked in red thread on the sock.
“give that back!” cried darobti.
alicia clenched her prize tightly in her left hand, then with her right unfastened her own silver brooch, and held it out to darobti. “exchange, exchange,” said the lady.
alicia’s very eagerness was the thing to defeat her own object. her anxiety awoke in the hindus both suspicion and that spirit of covetousness which has such power over the oriental. why should the mem desire that little black charm? there must be witchcraft.
“it’s a spell to make us all karanis” (christians) said darobti. “i’d rather throw the black thing down the well than let it get into the hands of a feringhi” (european).[7]
“it brought no luck when the girl had it,” cried the one-eyed jai dé. “it may have had something to do with the death of premi’s husband. let the black charm be taken away!”
“daughter of an owl, you know nothing!” screamed out darobti; and an abuse-match began between the two women, carried on in voices so shrill and loud that alicia would fain have stopped her ears. a hindu bibi in a passion could probably, in noisy volubility, hold her own amongst women of any other nationality in the world.
7. to show how strong this fear of witchcraft is amongst hindu women, i will give another extract, almost as curious as the first, from the public address of the christian gentleman and converted brahmin, t. k. chatterji. speaking of his mother he says,—
“she was very much afraid of the witches, and to protect me from their evil influences she used to fast often, and make vows to gods and goddesses. if any devotee happened to visit our village, one of the first things that she would ask him was, whether he knew anything that would keep me from the evil influence of the witches. she would pay him money with which to make puja [worship], and would not mind undergoing any amount of penances for my good. she was not content doing this only, but procured a costly gold chain, and enclosed in its links little pieces of the roots of some wild trees which she thought had the virtue of driving away witches and evil spirits, and she took great care to hang this chain round my neck. she used to spit on my forehead whenever i went out to play with other boys or to the village school, and would not eat anything until i returned home safe.”
oh, what a picture is here presented to us of maternal love, strong though blind, and of slavish, misery-making fear! such superstition, met with in various forms, is one of the galling chains from which, in god’s strength, missionaries desire to free their poor native sisters.
chand kor being of a less irascible nature, and perhaps less superstitious than the others, was more inclined to drive a good bargain with the ignorant mem sahiba, who had taken an evident fancy to a black ornament, old, damaged, and of little intrinsic value. alicia, confused and half-frightened, yet resolved, cost what it might, to keep the locket. chand kor perceived this, and saw her advantage. the lady, willing to exchange one jewel for another, was driven to bid higher and higher, till even the contentious women stopped their quarrelling to see how far the english lady would go.
alicia s brooch had been rejected; she was ready to add the ear-rings to match, then the silver buckle which fastened her band; but her offers were of no avail. darobti and jai dé kept repeating the word jadugari (witchcraft). alicia knew not the meaning of the word, but she saw that the bibis connected it with the locket, and thought it probably the name by which lockets are called.
“give me the little jadugari,” said she, “and take this,” and she held out her silver chain.
“it is jadugari; she confesses it, the witch!” cried darobti, shrinking back as if the chain were a snake that could bite her.
but the covetous eyes of chand kor, the ruler of the zenana, were fixed on a golden bracelet in the form of a serpent with diamond eyes, which was the most expensive trinket which alicia possessed, and a bridal gift sent from england.
“give that, that,” said the hindu bibi, “and keep the black thing which you have in your hand.”
alicia, thoroughly disgusted at the woman’s mean covetousness, shook her head and rose from the charpai on which she had been seated.
“give the charm back!” cried darobti, becoming suddenly aware that whilst she was quarrelling with jai dé the cause of the dispute might be carried away.
“give the charm back!” echoed more than one voice.
alicia grasped the locket more tightly. it was the property of her cousin, not theirs; she would never give it up except to its rightful owner. a cry for help from above burst from the englishwoman’s heart as she made one step forward.
strong brown hands were laid on the lady’s arm; she had no strength to cast them off—helpless as a dove in the claws of the falcon.
“give the bracelet!” cried chand kor.
with a quick, sudden movement, alicia drew off the jewel, and flung it from her in the direction farthest from the door by which she had entered. it was a bait, and it took. every one made a rush in that direction. alicia was free—released from the grasping hands which had held her as in a vice. she took advantage of the moment, and rushed to the door which opened on the stair without stopping to say salám. she would have forgotten to snatch up her umbrella had she not intuitively seized on it as a weapon of defence. alicia rushed so hurriedly down the stair that she nearly fell in her haste. she could hear the bibis above quarrelling over the jewel which she had flung away, which all coveted, but only one could possess. as alicia, panting with excitement and heat, sped first across the inner then the outer court-yard, she thrust her prize—black locket and dirty rag—within the body of her bridal dress above her heart, she was so much afraid that in her haste she should drop that which had cost her so dear.
alicia’s troubles were not ended even when with a sense of relief she passed through the second door and found herself outside the fort. there was her little doli indeed in the place where she had left it, but to her utter dismay alicia could see neither robin nor the kahars. where could they be? in vain the lady called aloud, in vain she gazed from side to side; no one replied, and no one appeared.
“what on earth shall i do!” exclaimed the poor girl. “i cannot possibly return home with no one to carry me.”
there stood alicia, trembling and perplexed, in her bridal satin, utterly alone, whilst noisy voices, both from within the fort and the adjacent native town, made her equally afraid to return to the first, or to attempt to pass through the other. the sun, now very powerful, was blazing above her, and fears of coup-de-soleil were added to other alarms. it was the most miserable moment that alicia had ever yet known in the course of her life; never before had she experienced such a sense of helplessness and desolation.
“i must get home somehow,” she murmured, after looking again and again in every direction for her faithless kahars; “some one may attack me for the sake of my jewels, and i am so utterly unprotected! o robin, robin! why did you thus desert me? i must try to make my way back on foot, but not through the town, oh, not through the town, though i suppose that must be the shortest way. i must go by the road, but i am not sure in what direction our bungalow lies. how dreadful it would be should i take the wrong turn! i cannot stand still under this fiery sun. i have heard that when exposed to its heat it is safer to walk, still safer to run; but if i run i shall attract more attention, and may be but going faster away from my home. oh, if i had only any one to protect and guide me!” exclaimed the poor young wife.
the sound of her own words seemed to reproach her for want of faith. alicia felt that she was only craving the support of an earthly arm, and was forgetting in her terror that arm which is ever stretched out to help the servants of god. “o thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?” flashed on the memory of alicia. her exclamations of distress now took the form of prayer. “lord, save me, help me, guide me!” she repeated again and again as she sped on her way, the rough road marring her slippers, hurting and almost burning her feet. there was comfort in uttering that incoherent prayer, solace in realizing that wherever she might go there was a protecting wing above her. alicia did not look much around her; she dreaded meeting the wondering stare of natives whom she might pass on the road. but very few people were abroad—here a wandering fakir, there two or three peasants weeding the fields on which the crops were almost ripe for the harvest, which is usually gathered in april. no one molested the poor young wanderer.
at length alicia reached a place where the road divided. there were two paths before her, both equally dusty and glaring, and she knew not which to take. alicia stood still, utterly perplexed. again the prayer for guidance burst from her lips, and then she turned to the right. before her stretched a long straight road, white with dust and glare, and bordered with cactus. on that road, to alicia’s inexpressible joy and relief, she saw forms which she instantly recognized. their backs were turned towards her, and they were at a considerable distance; but well did alicia know the brown tattu on which her father-in-law was mounted; familiar and dear to her eyes was the tall form in a sun-helmet which walked at his side.
alicia eagerly ran forward, attempting to call out as she ran; but voice and breath failed her, and she was only able to gasp out, “harold, harold!” in tones too feeble to reach the ear of her husband. alicia ran on, then paused to call again, her heart beating so violently that she pressed her hand over it to still its throbbing. a third call, which rose into a cry, burst from her parched lips. at the distance which separated husband from wife it was inaudible to any but harold; but love’s quick ear caught the sound of the dear familiar voice. harold turned round, saw his wife, and hurried back to meet her, with an expression of surprise, anxiety, and almost terror on his pale face. seeing alicia alone, strangely attired and greatly excited, a horrible suspicion flashed across the young man’s mind that the effect of sunstroke had turned his poor bride’s brain. in no other way could harold account for finding her thus—at some distance from home, unattended, arrayed in white satin, and running as if for her life. harold hastened to meet her, and the poor frightened dove threw herself into his arms, and burst into a passionate flood of tears. this still further alarmed her husband, who mistook the expression of joy and relief for one of distress. alicia’s face was crimson with the exertion of running in the heat, her slight frame trembled violently; but even at that moment there was a tone of triumph in her sobbed-out words, “i have it—i have it—safe in my bosom!”
“what have you, my love, my life?” asked harold; but he did not press for a reply. his only thought was how to get his afflicted wife safe home. mr. hartley, who had turned to see the cause of harold’s suddenly quitting his side, had ridden back to the spot where his son and alicia were standing, and shared the surprise and alarm of young hartley. the missionary threw himself off his pony with all the energy of youth, and bade harold place alicia upon it. the agitated girl was lifted to the saddle and supported on it by her husband, who spoke to her gentle words of soothing, as he might have done to a frightened child. very slowly the party proceeded homewards, harold holding a white umbrella over the head of his wife. he did not ask any questions; but as soon as the short burst of crying was over, and alicia had recovered her breath, she was eager to recount her adventures.
“you wonder at seeing me in such a strange dress; but robin said that my best chance of getting into the fort was to go in my wedding attire. how absurd it must look!”
“so it is robin whom i have to thank for this!” exclaimed harold angrily. “i shall take care not to leave you under the care of such a hare-brained mad-cap again.”
“but robin was right, quite right!” laughed alicia. “i did get into the fort, and i did get the locket out of the hands of the hindu bibis!”
“what locket? you speak in riddles, my love.”
“oh, i forgot that you have heard nothing about the black heart-shaped locket, just like the one which you saw hung round my neck on the first day that we met. premi had its fac-simile on the day when she was brought to the fort; robin and i thought that if we could only get possession of it, we could identify my cousin by its means.”
harold’s face brightened: an intolerable weight was lifted from his heart; his fears for his wife’s loss of reason were gone. mr. hartley listened as eagerly as did his son to the full and graphic account which alicia now gave of her visit to the fort. harold laughed at the bargaining over the locket, and when told of the flinging away of the bracelet which had had such a happy effect, the husband exclaimed with proud delight, “my noble girl, my spirited wife! you deserve to wear the koh-i-nur itself on your arm!”
mr. hartley’s praise was almost as warm as that of his son. “it was bravely done,” he said. “our alicia had asked for wisdom and courage, and they were given in the moment of need.”
“yes,” said alicia earnestly; “i feel that i was helped all through, or i should never have succeeded. was it not a mercy that at the very moment when i knew not whither to turn, you should have been passing along the road?”
“had not our departure from the encampment been delayed by my oversleeping myself,” observed mr. hartley, “we should have been at the bungalow hours before this.”
“you were so weary—you have been ill!” cried alicia. “i cannot bear to ride while you walk; i would rather, far rather be on foot.”
“my child, i have boots; your little slippers have been fairly worn out in honourable service,” was the playful reply.
“robin must never twit me about them again,” said alicia.
“what to me is incomprehensible is robin’s conduct to-day!” exclaimed harold, with a touch of indignation in his tone. “it is so unlike him to bring a sister into a difficult situation, and then to desert her, after promising to keep near.”
“and why did the kahars too run away?” cried alicia; “something very strange must have occurred.”
“the mystery will soon be cleared up,” observed mr. hartley, “for we have come in sight of the bungalow at last.”
the reader will find the solution of the mystery in the following chapter.
