CHAPTER III.


The time for Arthur's leaving College had now arrived. A few brief lines
from Sir Jasper, informing him that he was to leave College at the end
of this term for good, but in no way hinting what his future position
through life might be, with a small note enclosed from Edith, was all
that he had heard from Devonshire since his friend, Tom Barton, had left
Oxford; but it was evident from the tone of the Baronet's epistle that
he expected him to make Vellenaux his home, at least for the present or
until some arrangements could be made for his future.

He was now nineteen, nearly six feet in height and possessed an amount
of strength and muscular power seldom met with at his age. These had
been developed and matured by boat-racing, cricket and athletic
exercises, in which he took great delight. He was likewise an ardent
lover of field sports. From the old Lodge keeper, who had been a rough
rider in Sir Jasper's troop in the light Dragoons through the greater
part of the Peninsular Campaign, he acquired the knowledge of how to sit
the saddle and ride like a dragoon, likewise the complete management of
his horse; nor was the sabre (the favorite weapon of the old soldier)
forgotten, and many a clout and bruise did the youth receive before he
could satisfy his instructor as to his efficiency. Being of an obliging
disposition, the game keepers took a great deal of trouble to make him a
first rate shot, and their exertions were not thrown away, and very
proud they were at the way in which he brought down his birds.

Surrounded by some half dozen of his most intimate acquaintances, young
Carlton was eating his last collegiate breakfast, as he had to leave for
Vellenaux that morning by the 8.20 train, the usual toasts and
congratulations had been exchanged, and farewell bumpers of champagne
drank, when the porter put his head in at the door and announced in a
sharp short tone, "times up, cab at the door." A general rush was made
in the direction indicated, Arthur jumped into the vehicle, and amid the
shouts and cheers of his friends, was quickly rolled over the stones to
the railway terminus. Ding, dong, ding, dong, waugh, waugh, puff, puff,
and the train moved slowly out of the station, increasing its velocity
until it was whirling along at something very like fifty miles an hour.
On reaching Switchem, the station nearest to Vellenaux, Arthur found his
horse waiting for him, and from the groom he learned that Sir Jasper was
anxiously expecting him, for he had that day accompanied by Edith, gone
as far as the lodge gate, a distance much greater than he had walked for
some time past. This was very satisfactory for Carlton to know, and with
a light heart he sprang into the saddle and cantered merrily along the
high road, leading to the park gates, within which the happiest years of
his youth had been spent; and the welcome he received from all was of
such a character as at once to set at rest any misgivings or
apprehensions he might have felt on this score.

Sir Jasper was kind, courteous and almost paternal. Edith could
scarcely restrain her delight at the idea of again having in that social
circle the playfellow of her childhood and one who had ever been to her
as a dear brother, a companion and confidant, one from whom she could
always obtain sympathy and advice when annoyed with the petty vexations
of childhoods fleeting day. Even Mrs. Fraudhurst, always courteous and
polite since his exodus from her scholastic charge, was now more affable
and condescending than ever to the Baronet's _protégé_; but she could
afford to be so, for she well knew that he was about to be swept from
her path, for years, perhaps forever.

The conversation during dinner that evening was animated and general;
all parties appeared in the best possible spirits, and anxious to render
Arthur's return from college an event to be remembered hereafter with
feelings of infinite satisfaction. Soon after the removal of the cloth,
the ladies retired, leaving our hero and Sir Jasper alone; the latter
having finished a glass of fine old crusted port, settled himself
comfortably in his easy chair, and thrusting his thumbs in the armholes
of his waistcoat, thus addressed his _protégé_.

"Arthur, my boy, you are now, I think, of an age that would warrant you
in judging for yourself as to what particular profession or calling you
are best suited to pursue, in order to make a successful career through
life. Have you ever given this subject a thought? If so, now we are
alone, I should like to hear what your views or ideas may be concerning
that matter; it is one of great importance, and requires serious
consideration."

Now, although Arthur had anticipated that some such enquiry would be
made by the Baronet, he was not quite prepared as to the precise answer
it would be best for him to make; in fact he was taken a little aback at
the suddenness of the question. He had expected that some days would
elapse before Sir Jasper would broach the subject, but being of a
straightforward and truthful nature, he frankly stated what he thought
respecting his future. "Of course," he said, "Sir Jasper, I shall be
guided entirely by any suggestions you may kindly offer, for to you I
owe everything. The only path that I believe is open to me is that of
Law or Medicine; (and since you allow me) I must candidly acknowledge to
either of those professions I have an antipathy; but if it is your wish
that I should follow either of these, I can assure you that energy and
perseverance shall not be wanting on my part to attain a respectable
standing in whatever undertaking I embark in."

"Right, Arthur, right; there is nothing like energy and perseverance in
whatever situation, we may be placed in, and now listen to me." The
Baronet here took another glass of port, and motioned to Arthur to do
the same; then continued he, "Law and Physic are both distasteful to me,
nor do I think they are at all suitable for you. The Church is almost
out of the question, as I have no interest in that quarter, and could be
in no way of use to you. You are beyond the age that lads generally
enter the navy; but what say you to the army?" Arthur gave a start at
this proposal, and a beam of delight--which he could not conceal--lit up
his handsome, though somewhat thoughtful face.

"Oh, Sir Jasper," he exclaimed, "it is the very position I most prize,
but one that I had not ventured to hope could be realized; it has been
the day dream of my youth."

The kind-hearted old Baronet was evidently much pleased at his young
friend's reply and enthusiasm. He took another glass of wine, then said:
"I promised your father to give you a fair start in life, and I will
keep my word. I have already applied to the Horse Guards on your behalf,
and have the refusal of a cornetcy in the Light Dragoons. There, there,
say nothing; I see you accept it, so that part of the business is
settled so far; but the regiment is now in India, and likely to remain
there for some years. Have you any objections to leaving England? If so,
you are at liberty to withdraw your consent."

"There is no part of the world that I have so great a desire to visit as
British India. I have both heard and read a great deal of that
extraordinary country. Besides, is it not the land of my birth?" was
Arthur's immediate reply.

"Then consider the matter settled. You will not be required to join your
regiment until six months after your name appears in the Gazette. I will
write to headquarters and likewise see to your outfit. Of course, you
will remain here until after New Year's, and help us to keep up
Christmas in the good old English style, for probably it may be the last
of the sort you will see for some years; but whatever trials and
difficulties you may have to contend with out there, you may rest
assured that when the time arrives for you to have your troop, the
purchase money shall not be wanting. And now," continued he, as Arthur
was about to reply, "send Reynolds to me, I wish to see him on some
matters before I retire, and you seek Edith and let her know that you
have accepted a commission in the army, as I have not mentioned a word
to her concerning it. Please make my excuses to the dear girl for not
joining her in the drawing room," then shaking him cordially by the
hand, wished him good night.

On entering the drawing room, Arthur found Mrs. Fraudhurst poring over
her novel and Edith standing by the French window, looking out upon the
Terrace which was now bathed in a flood of pale moonlight. She was
wondering what her uncle could have to say to Arthur to detain him so
long: she had so much to ask about her ponies and her grayhounds and
improvements in her flower gardens, &c. He delivered Sir Jasper's
message, then asked her to step out on the Terrace with him. Hastily
throwing a mantle around her, she was ready to accompany him. Gently
drawing her arm within his own, they passed out of the room, and stepped
on to the Balcony that ran along the entire length of the South of the
building and joined the broad Terrace below by means of a flight of
marble steps. At the extreme end this Terrace overlooked the rich
_partierre_ which, although late in the season, still sent forth its
delicious perfume, borne upwards on the soft breeze of the evening.

"He has caught at the Indian bait. We have hooked our fish; our next
care is to have him safely landed. The poison of love has not, as yet,
developed itself. The Scarlet Fever will quench all other maladies, at
least until the seas will divide them," and with a self-satisfied smile
upon her still pretty features, Mrs. Fraudhurst betook her self to her
own apartments to concoct an epistle for the information of Ralph
Coleman.

For nearly an hour did the fair young creature and the youth, who had
ever been to her as a brother, pace up and down the moonlit Terrace.
Arthur related all that passed between him and her uncle. She was as
much delighted as himself at the prospect which had thus suddenly opened
before him; the only drawback was that he would be absent so long from
Vellenaux.

"But you will write frequently, and come home whenever you can procure
leave of absence. And to think that you will not leave us for three
months. We will have a merry time this Christmas, Arthur, will we not?
and wind up with a fancy ball on the eve of your departure. Oh, it will
be delightful," said the excited girl, carried away by the idea of such
an event.

Verily, Mrs. Fraudhurst had divined truly. Love's insidious poison had
not yet developed itself in the bosom of either. They returned to the
drawing room, and, after singing together some of their favourite
pieces, they retired for the night.

It was near morning before Carlton fell asleep; even then his brain
continued to be disturbed by exciting dreams. Now leading a charge of
horses or storming some Indian fortress. Finally he dreamed that he had
rescued some Princess or Rajah's daughter from becoming the prey of an
enormous Bengal tiger, the head of which, strange to say, bore a
striking resemblance to Mrs. Fraudhurst; that the Rajah, in return for
his services, gave his daughter to him for a bride; that the marriage
took place at the little church at Vellenaux. He thought that as the
bride approached the altar in gorgeous attire, and was about to place
her hand within his, a seraph-like form glided between them and his hand
was lovingly grasped by Edith Effingham, when all suddenly vanished in a
thunder storm. He awoke with a start and leaped from the bed, for there
was a loud knocking at the door and the voice of the old Butler
exclaiming, "Master Arthur, master Arthur, Miss Edith desires me to say
that she is going to ride over to the Willows this bright morning and
wishes to know if you would like to accompany her; she is now on the
lawn."

"Thank you, thank you, Reynolds. My compliments to Miss Effingham, and
say I shall be most happy to be her escort on the occasion," and
hurriedly dressing, was soon by her side, laughing and chatting merrily
as they cantered over the green turf on their way to the Bartons. Yet
Arthur could not altogether dispel the feelings that arose within him,
produced, doubtless, by the strange dreams that haunted his pillow
during the night, or early that morning.

"Is not that Tom Barton?" said Edith, pointing to the figure of a man,
dressed in sporting costume, seated on the step of a stile, engaged in
lighting a small German pipe, his gun leaning against one of the
uprights and some half dozen partridges lying on the grass at his feet.
As they rode up, Tom advanced to meet them, raised his hat politely to
Edith, and shouted out, "Hallo Arthur, old fellow, how are you. Glad to
have you back amongst us; not much fun in tramping through the turnip
fields alone, although the birds are by no means scarce this season."

"Thank you, I intend to be amongst them, and together, I think we can
do some execution. How are the ladies at the Willows? And is pretty
little Cousin Kate as capricious as ever?" And here Carlton gave his
friend a poke in the ribs with his riding whip.

Edith laughed heartily at the sallie; for his attachment to the lady in
question was no secret to her. Tom parried his friend's enquiries as
best as he could, and the trio proceeded at a walk in the best possible
good humour.

On reaching the Willows they found Tom's sisters and Kate Cotterell on
the gallery. Their approach had been observed by old Mrs. Barton, from
the window of the breakfast room. They were received with a shower of
welcomes, for both Edith and Arthur were general favourites with all the
neighbouring families, and especially so at the Bartons.

Of course, Arthur's appointment and approaching departure for India was
communicated; all were pleased to hear of his good fortune, though sorry
to lose his society.

"You will, of course, call upon Horace and Pauline when you reach
Calcutta," suggested old Mrs. Barton, "I dare say you may not recollect
him, but he will remember you, although you were but a curly-headed boy
when he was last in England. You must take out some letters from us to
them."

Edith had a hurried conversation with Kate Cotterell, Julia and Emily
Barton, on some little project of her own. This being finished, she
beckoned to Arthur, who was smoking and arranging some matters with Tom
Barton at the other end of the gallery; then mounting their horses they
rode slowly back to Vellenaux, in time to breakfast with Sir Jasper, who
was, by no means, an early riser.

With shooting, (with Tom Barton and some half dozen other College
chums,) visiting his acquaintances, and taking long rides through the
beech woods and over the downs with Edith, who was an excellent
equestrian, for his companion, the first six weeks of Arthur's return
passed pleasantly and rapidly away. He then had to post up to London to
get measured for his uniform, and general outfit, to say nothing of the
numberless commissions which he had been entrusted to execute by his
lady acquaintances, in view of the approaching fancy ball. Being his
first visit to the Metropolis, Arthur determined to see and hear all
that could be and seen heard during his short stay in that wonderful
city.

Jack Frost, with his usual attendant and companion, snow, heralded the
approach of old Father Christmas, who filed an appearance at Vellenaux
on the morning of the twenty-fifth of December, and right heartily was
the old fellow welcomed. His advent had been announced at daybreak, by
discharges from an old-fashioned field piece which Bridoon (with the
permission of his old commander) had mounted on a wooden carriage to
commemorate his Peninsular victories, while the Bell Ringers rang out a
merry peal from the belfry of the quaint old church in the little
village hard by. Then came troops of merry, laughing children, singing
and chanting old Christmas Carols, and were rewarded by the old
housekeeper with a piping hot breakfast of mince pies, etc., etc.

After morning service in the church, which was numerously attended, the
laborers and many of the poorer tenants of the estate were regaled with
roast beef and plum pudding, good old October ale and mighty flagons of
that cider for which Devonshire is so justly celebrated. During the
evening there was a dance and supper in the servants' hall, to which
many of the small farmers with their wives, sons and daughters, had been
invited, and a right jovial time they had of it. Dancing, songs, scenes
from the magic lantern, hunt the slipper, blind man's buff, kissing
under the mistletoe, and many other Christmas gambols were the order of
the evening,--and, if one might judge from the bursts of mirth and
laughter that prevailed, this was very much to the satisfaction of all
present.

The worthy Baronet, attended by Edith and Arthur, visited his work
people during the dinner in the great barn, addressing words of welcome
and kindness to all, nor did he absent himself from the merry-makings in
the servants' hall.

"Attention, form a line there!" shouted old Bridoon, the lodge keeper,
who was the Sir Oracle of the hour, and had seated himself in a large
arm chair beside the enormous fireplace, wherein the Yule logs burnt
brightly, darting out forked flames of blue, yellow, and crimson, and
sending forth great showers of sparks up the huge old-fashioned chimney
like fire-works on a gala night.

"Make way there for the Brigadier and his handsome aides-de-camp." The
sharp eye of the old campaigner had caught sight of the party from the
drawing room, which had halted in the door way and was looking on highly
amused at the merry groups that were footing it bravely, and with
untiring energy through the mazes of Irish jigs, Scotch reels and
English country dances. On entering, the mirth ceased for a moment out
of respect to Sir Jasper. "Go on, my good friends, we came to witness,
not to put a stop to your amusement," said the Baronet, as he took a
seat in the chimney corner, supported by Edith and Arthur. The dancing
was again resumed in about half an hour, and the party rose to retire.
Here Reynolds, the old butler, presented his master with a magnum of his
favorite port, which the old gentleman tossed off, wishing them all a
merry Christmas. This was the moment for which Bridoon had been waiting;
he rose and proposed the health of Sir Jasper, Miss Edith, and Master
Arthur, and said, "When lying wounded on the bloody field of Salamanca
little did I think that I should live to enjoy so many years of peace
and comfort in such snug quarters as is now provided for me by my old
commander and benefactor, God bless him," Then addressing Arthur he
said, "Master Arthur, it does my old heart good to know that you have
entered her Majesty's service. You are a good swordsman, a bold rider
('and the best shot in the country,' put in the head game-keeper), no
mean qualifications," continued he, "for a Light Dragoon; and I feel
certain you will turn out as fine a soldier as the Colonel, your
father,--I drink to his memory and your success." Whereupon the veteran
raised a massive tankard of sparkling cider to his lips and took a
mighty draught, which laudable example was immediately followed by all
the men present. The Baronet and his _protégés_ then left the hall.

There was open house to all comers until after the New Year, and in this
way Christmas had been kept up in that part of Devonshire from time
immemorial.

But the great event of the season to the upper tandem of Vellenaux, and
its vicinity was the approaching twelfth-night Ball. Sir Jasper had
given _carte blanche_ to his niece to do as she pleased on the occasion
and she did so accordingly.




CHAPTER IV.


Great was the excitement and preparation going on among those invited to
participate in the coming festivities. Of all the places in the county,
Vellenaux was considered the most suitable for the purpose of a Fancy
Dress Ball. There had not been anything of the kind within a circuit of
fifty miles, for at least as many years. The grand old hall, with its
banners and knightly armour of different periods, the magnificent
apartments filled with curiously carved antique furniture, ancient
mirrors and embroidered tapestries, all of which would harmonize with
the costumes of those who would figure about for the _nonce_. Of course
the characters to be assumed were to be kept a secret until they
appeared in the ball room. Edith entered with enthusiasm into all the
arrangements necessary on the occasion, and was materially assisted by
the good taste and judgment of Arthur, to whom she turned for counsel
when at fault as to the grouping of statuary or position of pictures,
and the _toute ensemble_ of the _salle-a-manger_.

The spacious old picture gallery with its Gothic windows of stained
glass was fitted up as the dancing hall. The statuary armour, banners,
and ancient weapons of past generations had been brought from the Hall
and placed in different positions along the oak pannelled walls, while
large bunches of dark green holly with the bright scarlet berries,
peeping out here and there was hung between the antique pictures of
brave Knights and fair Dames, ancestors of the Coleman family, that
seemed to look down from their massive frames upon the fantastic scenes
below. The oaken floor was covered with a cloth, figured to represent a
tesselated pavement. At the upper end a dais had been erected,
surmounted by an antique chair of state, with several others of the same
description, but smaller on each side. The orchestra was in a small
gallery that crossed the hall at the lower end, the whole brilliantly
illuminated by three massive chandeliers, the adjoining apartments were
arranged as refreshment and supper rooms.

The Ball was opened with a triple set of quadrilles. The top set,
nearest to the dais or place of honour, was composed as follows: Sir
Jasper as the fine old English gentleman in doublet and trunk hose, with
Edith, looking very lovely, as the Lady Rowena; their _vis a vis_ being
Julia Barton, in the character of Mary Stuart, attended by Arthur,
dressed as a Light Dragoon of the period. The side couples were, Kate
Cotterell, bewitchingly pretty, in the costume of Rebecca the Jewess,
assisted by Tom Barton as the famous Robin Hood. Emily Barton
represented, with very good effect, Maid Marion, under the escort of
young Snaffle of the Lancers, who rode over from the nearest Garrison
Town to captivate some stray heart by personating Young Lochinvar. The
other two sets, figuring in costumes as handsome as they were varied,
were made up of the youth and beauty of the neighbourhood, with the
exception of the bottom couple of the last set; here, Mrs. Fraudhurst
appeared, gorgeously attired, as Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, with no
other for her partner than Ralph Coleman in the garb of Mephistopheles.
At the conclusion of the first Quadrille, the Baronet seated himself in
the state chair, with his old friends on either side, for their dancing
days like his own was now as a thing of the past, but looking on with
inward satisfaction at the gay assembly, until the memories of their own
youthful days rose pleasantly before them, the rare old wines of the
choicest vintage, from the well-stored cellars of Vellenaux aiding to
keep up these associations, as Waltzes, Polkas, Mazourkas, followed in
rapid succession. Nor was the supper the least agreeable feature of the
entertainment, for country life, and country exercise, equestrian and
pedestrian, over the frozen earth, were wonderful auxiliaries to the
appetite, and both old and young did ample justice to the good things
that were provided for them.

The Duchess and Mephistopheles kept watchful eye on Edith and Arthur,
but their joyous light-heartedness, and that, too, on the eve of his
departure, convinced the two conspirators that all was going on as
satisfactorily as they could desire. After supper, Sir Roger de Coverly,
the Triumph, and other old-fashioned country dances were introduced,
followed by questions, answers and forfeits, and other Twelfth-night
games, which were entered into with such spirit and animation, that
showed how thoroughly they were enjoyed by those who participated
therein, and it was universally allowed by all present to be the most
charming thing of the kind they had ever attended, and the grey dawn of
day appeared on the eastern horizon ere the last vehicle drove away from
the hospitable mansion of Sir Jasper Coleman.

On the afternoon of the following day, Arthur was to leave Vellenaux
for Southampton en route for the East. He had put off his leave takings
until the last moment, and he now entered his patron's private library
to say farewell. The parting was more like what might have been expected
between a kind father and a favourite son. "Remember, Arthur," said the
kind old Baronet, in conclusion, "that, should your regiment be suddenly
ordered home, it will always afford me the greatest pleasure to receive
you here whenever the duties of your position will admit of your
visiting us." Here he shook him cordially by the hand, placing as he did
so, a draft on a Calcutta house for three thousand rupees.

Hastily ascending the grand staircase, Carlton made his way to the
drawing room. His adieu to Mrs. Fraudhurst was courteous and polite, but
there was no exhibition of kindly feeling or sympathy evinced by either.

Now, although Arthur and Edith in their long rides together had
canvassed over the subject of his departure repeatedly, and the great
benefit he was likely to derive therefrom till they had quite accustomed
themselves to the idea, yet, when the moment arrived, a deep feeling of
regret visibly agitated them both, a feeling which they had never before
experienced, and which there was now no time to analyze. The unbidden
tear rose to Edith's eye as he clasped her hand within his own, and
unable to control himself any longer, he gently drew her towards him and
imprinted a loving kiss on her rosy lips. The next instant he was gone.
No word of love had ever been spoken between them, and this was the
first time that their lips had ever met. At that moment Mrs. Fraudhurst
had looked up from her embroidery, but not in their direction; she was
too discreet for that, her glance rested on one of the large mirrors at
the opposite end of the room, wherein was reflected the full length
figures of the two young friends. The salute did not escape her notice,
nor did she fail to mark that the deep crimson blush that diffused
itself over Edith's beautiful features certainly was not one of
displeasure.

"Gone, but not a moment too soon," she muttered half aloud. Then turning
to address a few words to Edith found that she also had left the
apartment; gone, doubtless, to seek the privacy of her own chamber.

On reaching Calcutta, the young Cornet presented himself at the
hospitable Bungalow of the Bartons, and was by them cordially received.
The pretty little Mrs. Barton and Arthur had not previously met, he
being at College when she had paid her wedding visit to Devonshire, but
nevertheless, she was much pleased to have so handsome a cavalier, to
occupy a seat in her barouche while driving along the Chowringee road or
cantering by her side across the Esplanade or round and round the stand
while listening to the delightful music of the band, as was their usual
custom of an evening.

Good, easy Horace Barton had got over that sort of thing, for after
returning from the Suddur Aydowlett, he would seek the quiet of his
sanctum sanctorum, and with his Hooka and iced Sherbet, would regale
himself until the dressing bell rang for dinner, after which he would
entertain Arthur with stories of the Pindaree War, the suppression of
Thuygee, and relate wonderful feats of looting, perpetrated by the most
expert robbers in the world, the Bheel tribes.

"But, my friend," said Horace, on one of these occasions, "the greatest
drawback to a young soldier's advancement in this country, is the great
facility that is afforded him for getting into debt; and should you
unfortunately fall into the difficulty, I strongly advise you to draw on
your paymaster, go under stoppages or apply to a friend, but not under
any circumstances have recourse to those scourges of the country, the
native Sheroffs or money-lenders, and in order to fix your attention to
this matter, I will relate a circumstance that occurred to a friend of
mine some years ago, which will, I think, prove to you the danger of
having anything to do with those gentry, as you might not escape their
clutches as my friend ingeniously did.

"There was no denying that Harry Esdale was the handsomest, gayest and
most popular man in the station, and was generally to be found taking
the lead in any thing that promised fun and frolic. In fact, no ball,
party, picnic, cricket-match, race or private theatricals were
considered complete without him. Having little else to depend upon
besides his pay, no wander that his pecuniary affairs became embarrassed
and were to him a source of great annoyance and trouble. To extricate
himself for the time being from this unpleasant dilemma, he had recourse
to the native Sheroffs, from whom he had borrowed from time to time
certain sums of different amounts at an enormous rate of interest, until
at last he found that he was totally unable to free himself from his
difficulties, or evade his creditors, who haunted him night and day,
dogged his steps, and presented themselves most inopportunely when they
were least expected or desired.

"He had procured a furlough to Europe, which alone would relieve him
from his tormentors, but alas, he was too well watched to admit of his
leaving the Presidency. Affairs were in this unpleasant state when a
circumstance occurred, which he very adroitly took advantage of, in
order to elude the vigilance of his native persecutors.

"It so happened that in his troop there was a man that bore a striking
resemblance to him in height and figure, as well as in feature. Just at
this particular juncture, and when his creditors were most clamorous for
settlement, this man died in the Regimental Hospital. On this
circumstance coming to his knowledge, it struck him that he might turn
it to his own advantage, could he but obtain the co-operation of the
Surgeon and one or two of his brother officers. This he soon effected,
so great a favourite as he was could not be refused, besides, was it not
a glorious thing to outwit those native dealers in extortion?

"The body of the late Trooper was secretly removed from the Hospital to
Esdale's Bungalow, dressed in his full uniform and laid on the bed; a
pistol was then discharged into the mouth of the corpse, and the head
and pillow besmeared with blood, disfiguring the face considerably; the
pistol was then placed on the bed, close to the right hand, and there
was all the appearance that death had been caused by suicide.

"Fortunately there was a Ball at Government House that evening; this
accounted for his being in full dress. His absence was noticed by many,
and later in the evening the startling intelligence was announced that
Captain Esdale, had destroyed himself by blowing out his brains while
laboring under a fit of temporary insanity. This report spread like
wildfire throughout the native town and soon reached the ears of his
creditors, who flocked to the Bungalow like so many vultures, fighting
and scrabbling with each other for admission, in order that they might
secure for themselves whatever effects might be in the Bungalow, but
were informed by the guard which had been placed there that nothing
could be touched until after the funeral, which took place in a few days
with all the pomp and ceremony necessary on such occasions.

"All this time Esdale was snugly stowed away in a little room in the
Bungalow of one of his brother officers, and in about a fortnight, when
the hubbub caused by this event had subsided, and the vigilance of the
money lenders withdrawn, they being completely outwitted, he quietly
stepped on board the English Mail.

"A few months after reaching England, he obtained some cash from his
governor, and through the agency of a friend who offered his creditors
an amount equal to what Esdale had received with an interest of seven
per cent added. This they had at first rejected, but seeing no hope of
any other settlement, at last concluded to accept and delivered up the
I.O.U.'s they had against Esdale. Imagine the surprise and vexation of
these people some two years after on seeing the identical Harry Esdale,
who many believed they had seen buried, coolly smoking his cheroot in
the mess verandah, or basking in smiles of the fair ones as they
cantered gaily across the midan after the heat of the day had passed."
Horace would, doubtless, have added other words of warning and advice,
but Arthur was summoned to attend the Madame Sahib, either in her
drawing room or in the spacious verandah, where she entertained her
friends. And for nearly a month did he enjoy this kind of life, until he
began to believe that India was not the infernal hole that it had been
represented to him by Snaffle of the Lancers (who, by the way, had never
been there); and in his letters to Edith he gave a glowing account of
the city of Palaces and the fascinating Mrs. Barton.

But it must not be supposed that these matters dwelt long in Arthur's
mind, for a more engrossing subject was ever before him, and that was
the profession he was now entering upon, and the probabilities of his
attaining a position in the service equal to that held by his father,
and he started to join his regiment with a determination to accomplish
this desirable end, or perish in the attempt.

The district through which he had to pass in order to reach head
quarters was a wild one. There were also several Bheel villages along
the route, nor was there any scarcity of wild beasts in that region, but
to Arthur this was not at all alarming. He had read of adventures and
difficulties that had been met with by officers of the India army while
travelling from one station to another, besides he had a strong desire
to engage in the exciting sport of tiger hunting, boar spearing, etc.,
within the Indian jungles.

On quitting Calcutta, his good friends gave him a _carte blanche_ to
visit them whenever duty or pleasure should bring him into their
neighborhood.

Fortunately for him a small party of Sepoys escorting treasure to a
station not far distant from the one in which his regiment was
quartered, were to start from Calcutta the same morning. This party he
was directed to take charge of as far on the road as he was going. Nor
was his journey without an adventure as the following incident will
show:

Within the deep shadow of a grove of stately tamarind trees that grew
on the roadside, and distant about half a mile from a large and populous
Bheel village the tent of our young traveller had been pitched.

It was a lovely night, Corinnua in her glory diffused her soft silvery
light far and near rendering the shades of the jungle still more deep by
contrast. All was hushed in silence; the busy hum in the village had
ceased and no sound broke on the silent night, except the occasional
bark of the Parrier dog, or the cry of the lurking jackall and the
measured tread of the native sentinel, as he paced to and fro in front
of the door of the tent. The remainder of the small guard were soundly
sleeping in a little routie tent on the opposite side of the road.

Arthur had been out shooting the latter part of the afternoon and
evening, and had, as usual, taken from the village several natives as
guides and beaters. On his return he had called them to the door of his
tent, opened one of his trunks, and out of a bag, containing two or
three hundred rupees, paid them liberally for their trouble; one of the
party he noticed appeared to eye the bag with a greedy, covetous eye,
but he said nothing, and the party left, seeming well satisfied with
what they had received. After indulging in a bath he was ready for the
evening meal, which consisted of chicken, curry or broiled partridge
with several etceteras, which he washed down with a bottle of Allsopps'
pale ale, and betook himself to his easy chair and cheeroot under the
majestic Tamarinds, which were undulating gently in the soft breeze of
the evening.

There was a small shade lamp burning on the camp table by the side of
the iron cot, on which Arthur had thrown himself, being somewhat tired
of his ramble in the jungle. He had taken up a volume of the Pindaree
war, but had not perused more than a dozen pages when he felt drowsy and
sleepy. He had accustomed himself to sleep with his revolver under his
pillow, his right hand grasping the handle. Somewhere about eleven
o'clock he was lying on his back with his left arm thrown across his
chest, and his hand over his face, half asleep and half awake, he
fancied he heard a sound similar to that made by sand rats or rabbits
while burrowing. The sinister look of the Bheel he had paid in the
evening instantly flashed across his mind. Separating his fingers,
sufficiently to admit of his seeing through them, he glanced in the
direction from which the sound proceeded, and waited patiently, keeping
a firm grasp of his pistol. Presently the sand beneath the wall of the
tent near the foot of his cot gave way gradually, and a small aperture
presented itself, which increased by degrees. By and by the head and
shoulders of the identical Bheel showed themselves inside the tent; his
hawk eye darted a rapid glance all around, but most especially at the
prostrate and apparently sleeping form of Carlton he then drew the
remainder of his body, which was perfectly naked, through the aperture
and stood erect and for a few seconds remained at the foot of Arthur's
bed, and listened to the heavy breathing which he effected; then, with a
gliding motion, moved towards the trunk containing the rupees, but still
keeping his face half turned in the direction of the bed so that he
could observe the slightest alteration, should any be made in the
position of its occupant, he then endeavored to force open the lid with
his creese, but finding he could not succeed in this, he took from
behind his ear a small piece of wire, with which he attempted to pick
the lock, but in order to effect this he had to rest his eye on the key
hole for a second or two. This was the moment for which Arthur had been
anxiously waiting. Instantly the eyes of the Bheel were withdrawn from
him. He brought his revolver from under his pillow, and passing it
beneath the light coverlet, placed the barrel across his left leg, which
he gently raised, at the same time removing the cloth clear of the
muzzle, brought it in line with the ribs of the robber and fired. The
bullet went straight to the heart, and the ruffian Bheel fell dead
without uttering a groan or sound.

"What is the matter," enquired the sentry, stopping at the door of the
tent, which had been closed to keep out the night dews.

"Nothing," Arthur had promptly replied, "I have discharged my pistol by
accident, and am going to reload it, that is all. But when the Nique
comes with the relief tell him to send the Havildar to me, I wish to
speak to him." The sentinel then resumed his walk up and down his post.
Arthur then with his hands quietly enlarged the hole by which the robber
had entered, into which he pushed the body and covered it with the sand
which had been thrown up, and the tent resumed its original appearance;
then, after washing his hands and refilling the empty chamber of his
revolver, he dressed himself for the march.

At twelve o'clock the Havildar made his sallam at the tent door. "Come
in, Havildar," said Carlton, "I have changed my mind; instead of
marching at four a.m., the usual hour, I wish to start with as little
delay as possible. Go round, wake up the cart men and have the cattle
put to with as little noise as practicable, fall in the guard, and,
when we have moved off some distance, I will tell you the reason of this
change in the hour of marching. Let everything be done as quietly as may
be; also tell the Syce to bring my horse round directly." The Havildar
received his orders (native like) without remark, saluted and went to
see them carried out. When the escort had got about a mile from where
they had encamped, Arthur related what had taken place in his tent the
night previous. This was a sufficient inducement for them to accelerate
their speed to the utmost in order to get beyond the precincts of the
Bheel, as they well knew that in the event of the discovery of the body
the whole village would turn out _en masse_ to revenge his death, but
having some four hours start Arthur and his party arrived at the
station--where he was to part from them--without molestation or pursuit,
as far as he was aware of.




CHAPTER V.


This adventure fully developed his coolness and courage when aroused to
immediate action by any unexpected danger. This gained for Arthur the
favorable opinion of his brother officers. Although he, on joining, made
no mention of the circumstance, until in course of casual conversation
the affair leaked out. Soon after joining he wrote to Sir Jasper
informing him of his safe arrival, and to Edith a long and interesting
account of his journey from Calcutta to Karricabad, in which he
portrayed with faithful accuracy his encounter with a Bheel, and many
other incidents which he thought likely would interest or amuse her. In
describing the scenery and general features of the wild districts he had
to pass through, he said:

"After traversing for miles the hot and dusty plains of Hindostan, quite
unexpectedly you will come upon a tope or grove of fruit trees, planted
in regular rows, with a well or tank of spring water, and a place to
bathe in built in the centre, where the weary and way-worn traveller
could bathe and wash away the heat and dust of the road, and cool his
parched throat with a draught of the pure element, gather as much of the
rich fruit as he may wish, to appease his appetite if hungry; then, in
the soft mossy grass, beneath the overhanging branches which effectually
protect him from the heat and glare of the sun, enjoy a sound sleep,
awake refreshed and proceed on his way rejoicing. In European countries
where hotels and places of accomodation are to be met with at every
turn, this may appear of little moment, but in the East where there are
no such places to obtain food or shelter from the powerful rays of the
sun, this is an inestimable boon. On enquiring how these Topes or groves
came to grow in places so far distant from any other cultivation, I was
informed that they were planted by rich high caste natives, as a penance
that was imposed upon them by the Brahmin priests for sins of omission
or commission against their creed. By the way, I heard the other day a
good story concerning these said Topes. It appears that a certain ensign
of the Company's service, who had been furnished with his commission and
outfit by an elderly maiden aunt of a serious and pious turn of mind,
whose positive injunctions to him on leaving England were that he was