CHAPTER X. OF THE LETTER WHICH CAME FROM THE HALL
Having thrown this side-light upon
my narrative, I can now resume the statement of my
own personal experiences. These I had brought
down, as the reader will doubtless remember, to the
date of the arrival of the savage-looking wanderer
who called himself Corporal Rufus Smith. This
incident occurred about the beginning of the month
of October, and I find upon a comparison of dates
that Dr. Easterling’s visit to Cloomber preceded
it by three weeks or more.
During all this time I was in sore
distress of mind, for I had never seen anything either
of Gabriel or of her brother since the interview in
which the general had discovered the communication
which was kept up between us. I had no doubt
that some sort of restraint had been placed upon them;
and the thought that we had brought trouble on their
heads was a bitter one both to my sister and myself.
Our anxiety, however, was considerably
mitigated by the receipt, a couple of days after my
last talk with the general, of a note from Mordaunt
Heatherstone. This was brought us by a little,
ragged urchin, the son of one of the fishermen, who
informed us that it had been handed to him at the
avenue gate by an old woman who, I expect,
must have been the Cloomber cook.
“My dearest friends,”
it ran, “Gabriel and I have grieved to think
how concerned you must be at having neither heard
from nor seen us. The fact is that we are compelled
to remain in the house. And this compulsion is
not physical but moral.
“Our poor father, who gets more
and more nervous every day, has entreated us to promise
him that we will not go out until after the fifth
of October, and to allay his fears we have given him
the desired pledge. On the other hand, he has
promised us that after the fifth that is,
in less than a week we shall be as free
as air to come or go as we please, so we have something
to look forward to.
“Gabriel says that she has explained
to you that the governor is always a changed man after
this particular date, on which his fears reach a crisis.
He apparently has more reason than usual this year
to anticipate that trouble is brewing for this unfortunate
family, for I have never known him to take so many
elaborate precautions or appear so thoroughly unnerved.
Who would ever think, to see his bent form and his
shaking hands, that he is the same man who used some
few short years ago to shoot tigers on foot among
the jungles of the Terai, and would laugh at the more
timid sportsmen who sought the protection of their
elephant’s howdah?
“You know that he has the Victoria
Cross, which he won in the streets of Delhi, and yet
here he is shivering with terror and starting at every
noise, in the most peaceful corner of the world.
Oh, the pity of it. West! Remember what
I have already told you that it is no fanciful
or imaginary peril, but one which we have every reason
to suppose to be most real. It is, however, of
such a nature that it can neither be averted nor can
it profitably be expressed in words. If all goes
well, you will see us at Branksome on the sixth.
“With our fondest love to both
of you, I am ever, my dear friends, your attached
“Mordaunt.”
This letter was a great relief to
us as letting us know that the brother and sister
were under no physical restraint, but our powerlessness
and inability even to comprehend what the danger was
which threatened those whom we had come to love better
than ourselves was little short of maddening.
Fifty times a day we asked ourselves
and asked each other from what possible quarter this
peril was to be expected, but the more we thought
of it the more hopeless did any solution appear.
In vain we combined our experiences
and pieced together every word which had fallen from
the lips of any inmate of Cloomber which might be
supposed to bear directly or indirectly upon the subject.
At last, weary with fruitless speculation,
we were fain to try to drive the matter from our thoughts,
consoling ourselves with the reflection that in a
few more days all restrictions would be removed, and
we should be able to learn from our friends’
own lips.
Those few intervening days, however,
would, we feared, be dreary, long ones. And so
they would have been, had it not been for a new and
most unexpected incident, which diverted our minds
from our own troubles and gave them something fresh
with which to occupy themselves.