CHAPTER VI.QUEEN OF THE CANNIBAL ISLANDS.
"An eye like mine,A lidless watcher of the public weal."
"An eye like mine,A lidless watcher of the public weal."
"An eye like mine,A lidless watcher of the public weal."
"An eye like mine,A lidless watcher of the public weal."
"An eye like mine,
A lidless watcher of the public weal."
Tennyson.
Perhapsit would be as well, before going further with this story, to dedicate a page or two to a description of that very important lady, Mrs. Creery. The gentleman who occupied a position in the background as "Mrs. Creery's husband," was a hard-working, hard-headed Scotchman, who thoroughly understood domestic politics, and the art of holding his peace. He had come to Port Blair soon after the settlement was opened up, and had subsequently gone home, and returned with a bride, a lady not, strictly speaking, in her first youth—this was twenty years ago. But let no one suppose that Mrs. Creery had spent the whole of that interval on Ross. She had made several trips to England, and had passed like a meteor through the circles in which her sister, Lady Grubb, was as the sun. Oh, how utterly weary were Mrs. Creery's intimates of those brilliant reminiscences—heard for the thousandth time. Did they not, one and all, detest the very name of "Grubb"?
How was it, people asked each other, that Mrs. Creery had reigned so long and so tyrannically at Ross? How came she to occupy a position, from which nothing could dislodge her—there had been mutinies, there had been social risings, but they all had been quelled. Even a ladywho had positively refused to go in to dinner, unless she was taken in before Mrs. Creery, had been quenched! Circumstances had placed the latter on the social throne, and not election by ballot, much less the potent power of personal popularity. The General was a widower, the chaplain a bachelor, the next senior officer unmarried also, the wife of another was an invalid, and spent nearly all her time in the south of France (according to Mrs. Creery, for south of France, read lunatic asylum). She herself was a woman of robust constitution, and always ready to say "present," consequently, the position of leading lady in the settlement fell to her happy lot! She "received" at the General's parties and dances, she occupied a chief place at feasts, a front pew in church, and had a whole programme to herself on band nights. After all, there was not much in this, one would imagine; but Mrs. Creery thought otherwise. The General, an urbane and popular elderly gentleman, was governor over the Andamans, in the Queen's name; he was her Majesty's representative, and held the lives of fifteen thousand convicts in the hollow of his hand; his dominions stretched from the Cocos to Havelock, and included even the distant Nicobars. As his social coadjutor, Mrs. Andrew Creery considered that she shared all his other dignities, and had gradually come to look upon herself as a species of crowned head, ruling not merely the settlement, the Europeans, and the convicts, but even the far-away savages of the interior! These royal ideas had developed but gradually—a little germ (sown by the first strains of "God save the Queen," played as she accompanied the General to a presentation of prizes) had thrown out roots and suckers, and planted a sense of her own dignity in her bosom, that nothing but death could eradicate!
Mrs. Creery had no children and ample leisure, and with such a magnificent idea of her social status, no one will be surprised to hear that she condescended to manage the domestic concerns of all within her realms. She had come to look upon this as a sacred duty, and viewed all comings and goings with microscopic scrutiny. The position of her house favoured this self-imposed supervision; it was close to the pier, hada good back view of the bazaar, and the principal road ran by her door, and consequently it is no exaggeration to say thatnothingescaped her. From long practice she could tell at a glance where people were going as they ran the gauntlet of her verandah; if the General wore a "regulation" helmet, he was probablyen routeto an execution at Viper (an island five miles away); if his Terai, he was bound for the new buildings on Aberdeen, or to make semi-official calls; if his old topee, he was merely going out shelling. Ross was a small island, very thickly populated. Mrs. Creery could easily make the circuit of it in twenty minutes, and did so at least thrice in the twenty-four hours.
She had no home ties, no domestic tastes; she did not care for flowers nor work; never opened a book, and looked upon shelling as childish nonsense. Her one taste was for poultry; her one passion, her dog "Nip," and when she had fed her hens, collected their eggs, given out daily stores, scolded her domestics, she had nothing to occupy her for the remainder of the day. After early breakfast she generally donned her well-known topee, and sallied forth on a tour of inspection; to quote Captain Rodney, who could not endure her, she "turned out" each family at least once daily, and never omitted "visiting rounds." She had by this time pretty well exhausted Ross—and the patience of its inhabitants; she knew every one's affairs, and what they paid their servants (and what their servants said of them in the bazaar), and what stores they got in, just as well as they did themselves.
Mr. Lisle had undoubtedly baffled her (though she had not done with him yet); however, Helen Denis was a novelty, and opened up an entirely new sphere of interest; therefore, ere nine o'clock on the day after the tennis party, Mrs. Creery's umbrella was once again heard imperiously rapping on the steps of Colonel Denis's verandah.
"You don't breakfast till twelve, I know," she called out; "for I met your cook and asked him, and it's only just nine"—this to Helen, who had come to the drawing-room door. "It's only just nine, and we shall have a nice long morning to ourselves, and be able to look at yourthings comfortably. Are you unpacking now?"
Helen very reluctantly acknowledged that she was—had just got all her boxes open.
"Then I shall come and help you," said her visitor, laying down her umbrella, and speaking as if she were conferring a great favour. "You go first, and I'll follow."
She was quite as good as her word. There she sat, with her hands on her knees, her topee pushed well back (so as not to interfere with her vision), in closest proximity to Helen's largest trunk, and saw every article separately taken out and unfolded. Nothing escaped her; all she saw, she priced; and all she fancied she tried on (or tried to try on), and meanwhile she kept up a running fire of comments somewhat in this style:—
"Sothat'syour black silk; and trimmed with lace, I declare! most unsuitable for a girl like you—quite ridiculous! I shall speak to your father, and if he likes, I don't mind taking it off his hands. I dare say there issomeletting out, and I'm rather in want of a dress for my receptions."
"Yes," gasped Helen, who was kneeling on the floor, "but I do not wish to part with my black silk."
"What use is it?Youcan't wear it," irritably. "Every one would laugh at you if you came up to one of the 'at homes' in a gown like that, and sawmein a simple muslin. It's not suitable to your position—do you understand that?"
"I did not mean to wear it at tennis," stammered Helen—who was a little cowed by Mrs. Creery's eye; "but Miss Twigg said that it would be useful."
"Not a bit of it! What does she know about what would be useful?" retorted the lady rudely.
Miss Denis made no reply, but was firmly resolved that nothing short of physical force should part her and her very best dress. Mrs. Creery said no more either, but determined to have a word with the Colonel by-and-by, and also to give himheropinion of the absurd extravagance of his daughter's outfit!
As she sat drawn up beside Helen's trunks whilst she unpacked, her perpetual queries, "What is this? What did you give for that?" were,to say the least of it, trying. However, her victim was but recently emancipated from school, had a wholesome awe of her elders, and a remarkably sweet temper, so the whole inspection passed off quite smoothly, and entirely to Mrs. Creery's satisfaction.
"I saw you talking to Lizzie Caggett last evening," she remarked, as she arranged her topee at the mirror, and dodged her profile in a hand-glass. "What was she saying to you?"
"She was asking me what I thought of the place?"
"Well, don't tell her much—that'smyadvice to you! She is certain to come here borrowing your patterns, but don't lend herone! I shall be really angry with you if you do." (This came well from a lady who was carrying off the promise of half-a-dozen.) And little did Helen know the large reading a Dirzee gives to the term "taking a pattern." It means that he rips up seams, punches holes in the material with his gigantic scissors, and turns a new garment inside out and upside down, with as little ceremony as if it were an old thing that was going to the rag-bag. At present, ignorance was bliss. Mrs. Creery's convict Dirzee was coming down that very afternoon to carry away Helen's two prettiest and freshest costumes!
"Now," continued the elder lady, "mind with I say about Lizzie Caggett; she has dozens of dresses, and is head over ears in debt in Calcutta, not to speak of the bazaar here—I know myself that she owes Abdul Hamed two hundred rupees,—and do not encourage her in her wicked extravagance."
Then walking to the window, she cried out rapturously, "What a view! Why, I had no idea of this; you can see everybitof the road—and there's the General going up home, and Mr. Latimer with him! I suppose he has asked him to breakfast—that's the second time this week! And here comes Dr. Malone,running; he has something to tell him! Oh, I must go! Where's my umbrella? Don't forget the dresses," and without further adieux, Mrs. Creery was flying down the steps, brandishing her arms, and calling out in a shrill falsetto,—
"Stop, stop, Dr. Malone. I'm coming. Wait forme!"