CHAPTER XV.
I had now been about twelve days a visitor with my hospitable friend, the indigo planter—a period, as the reader has seen, fertile in events—when I began to think of returning, and a letter or two which I received served to hasten my departure. One was from an old friend and schoolfellow, Tom Rattleton, a good deal my senior, and whom I had not seen or heard of for four or five years. It ran thus:—
My dear Frank,
My dear Frank,
My dear Frank,
My dear Frank,
It was by the merest chance that I heard from a Captain Marpeet, who has been staying here, in his way up, ofyour arrival in India. How I missed seeing your “well-known” name in the papers or General Orders I really cannot imagine. Marpeet says, you only want a little more of his tuition to become ane plus ultra—in short, I must not tell half the handsome things he has said of you; but in all I could not fail to recognize, clearly and distinctly, my old class-mate and companion of the third form.
How I long, my dear fellow, to have a good dish of chat with you about school-days, and all the fun and frolic we have had together in times past! Do you recollect lame Tomkins, the pieman, and your unsuccessful attempt to prove to him, synthetically and dialectically, that long credit and great gains were preferable, as a mercantile principle, to small profits and quick returns, to which logic many an empty pocket sent forth, doubtless, a confirmatory echo? But oh, that stony-hearted man! Orpheus himself could not have moved him—no eloquence, no wiles—nought but theipsa pecunia, the money’s chink.
My regiment has lately arrived here from Berhampore. I have been for some time out of my griffinage, and though but a “jolly ensign,” like yourself, and not very deep in the mysteries of theHindee Bolee, have lately obtained the command of a company—we being rather deficient in old hands. This works me a good deal, but I like my new powers, and if I could but understand the fellows, I should get on famously.
I have a small bungalow near the river, and am comfortable enough, all things considered, so you must come and spend a month with me at least. Why not get to do duty with our regiment at once? it can be easily managed. I hope you enjoy life amongst the “True Blues” in the Mofussil. I have had some experience of them myself, and a kinder-hearted and more hospitable set of fellows, taking them in a body, does not exist.
Give me a few lines to say on what day I may expect you here, and I will ride out and meet you (if you dawkit) and have breakfast ready. So for the present adieu—au revoir.
Your friend and schoolfellow,T. Rattleton.
Your friend and schoolfellow,T. Rattleton.
Your friend and schoolfellow,T. Rattleton.
Your friend and schoolfellow,
T. Rattleton.
P.S.—By-the-bye, do you recollect your changing old Thwackem’s digestive pill, daily deposited at the corner of his desk, for a pea rolled in flour (or a bolus of your own manufacture), and how unsuspectingly the old boy would gulp it down, preparatory to locking up his cane and descending from his awful elevation? Many a good laugh I’ve had at this piece offriponnerieof yours.
This letter delighted me, and Mr. Capsicum, to whom I read it, seemed also a good deal amused. I felt an intense longing to see my friend Tom again, and in fact fell into such a fidgety and excited state, that I could take an interest in nothing. Old Time, instead of flying, seemed to me all of a sudden to have lost the power of locomotion altogether. Battleton and I were the Castor and Pollux of the school, sworn brothers—backers and abettors of each other in all fights, scrapes, and difficulties, of which we generally hadquantum suff.on hand.
School was truly a black passage in my life, in which the happiness was to the misery in about the proportion of honest Jack Falstaff’s bread to his quantum of Sherris sack.
“Ah, chien de livre, tu ne me fera plus répandre de pleurs!” exclaimed the enraged Scipio of Le Sage, as he wreaked his vengeance on the “maudite grammaire,” the passive instrument of all his sufferings.
I can too well understand the feelings which actuated, on this occasion, the little son of the honest usher of St. Hermandad, for never to this day do I enter a school-room, or my eye light on a grammar, dictionary, or other buff-coloured associate of the long-past days of my pupilage, but a host of painful and degrading recollections rush on my mind, of the hundred thwackings, confinings,mortifications, of which they were the proximate cause, as nauseous to the feelings as the remembrance of a black dose, or James’s powder, “grating harsh music” through its envelopment of black-currant jelly. And as I look at a pedagogue, I have such a lively idea of a caning, that I am glad to get out of his way.
The young mind may, in truth, be likened to the notes of an instrument, from which a harmonious result can only be extracted by the hand of a master, acquainted with their respective powers; whilst a bungler may thump away at them to the end of the chapter, and nothing but discord, or the instrument irretrievably put out of tune, will be the consequence. In fact, the art of developing, governing and improving “the young idea,” the most important of all, is yet in its infancy, particularly as regards the moral training.
But to curb my erratic vein, and proceed with my narrative.
A period having been fixed for my departure, Mr. Augustus asked me in what manner I proposed to return. I told him, that was a matter I had not considered, but that I should be entirely guided by him.
“Well,” said he, “there’s the boat you came in at your service; but the Sunderbunds are roundabout, and I’d strongly recommend your going by dawk; you’ll find it pleasanter, as you’re alone, and you’ll reach your destination much sooner.”
“Very well,” I replied, “let it be so; but may I ask what mode of transport this said dawk is of which I have heard such frequent mention made—’tisn’t any sort of animal, is it?”
“Animal!” exclaimed my friend in astonishment, and laughing heartily, “why you are a greater griffin than I took you for: this beats your spearing the village pig. A dawk is a relay of bearers at stages of ten or twelve miles apart, to carry you, at the rate of four or five miles an hour, to your journey’s end.”
“Thank you,” said I, “for the information; but notpossessing intuitive knowledge, you see, one can’t be expected to know all things until told of them.”
Augustus admitted that there was reason in the observation.
Well, it was decided that I was to proceed to Barrackpore on the second night after the day on which this conversation took place; so I wrote at once to my friend Tom, to tell him that he might expect me immediately.
The last day of my stay, De la Chasse and hisfidus Achatesdined with us, and we all appeared depressed at the prospect of separation, for our short acquaintance had already ripened into a friendly feeling.
Like towns in an ill-governed country, where, owing to the absence of sound laws and honest administrators of them, every one is afraid of his neighbour, hearts, in artificial England, are too often petty fortresses, in which pride, caution, and suspicion are incessantly on the watch to guard against surprise, and to break down these barriers and effect a lodgment is frequently the work of years; but in India, amongst Anglo-Indians, the case is reversed; the gates are thrown wide open, and intimacies and cordial (though, perhaps, not always lasting) feelings are generally the result of a few day’s acquaintance.
Both extremes are bad, as all extremes are; but it is indubitably far pleasanter to live amongst those, the approaches to whose confidence and kindness are supinely, rather than too rigorously guarded; the one system, ’tis my belief, shuts out more good than the other admits of evil.
“Sahib, ka daktiar hyr,” said a servant entering the apartment some time after dark, on the day of which I am speaking.
“Gernon,” observed Mr. Augustus, “the best of friends must part: your palankeen is ready outside, and only waits your orders.”
I arose, walked to the terrace, and there was my equipage.The sentimental St. Pierre, with all theaccuracyof a Frenchman, thus describes the equipage of his truth-seeking doctor, who, if as subject to blundering as himself, might have been a long time in discovering that valuable treasure.
“The Company’s superintendent of Calcutta furnished the doctor with everything necessary for his journey to Juggernauth, consisting of a palankeen, the curtains of which were of crimson silk, wrought with gold; two relays, of four each, of stout coolies or bearers; two common porters; a water-bearer; a juglet-bearer, for his refreshment; a pipe-bearer; an umbrella-bearer, to shade him from the sun; a nuslogee (!) or torch-bearer, for the night; a wood-cutter; two cooks; two camels and their leaders, to carry his provisions and luggage; two pioneers, to announce his approach; four sepoys, mounted upon Persian horses, to escort him; and a standard-bearer, bearing the arms of England!”
I, being no philosopher, and bound on a less important mission, could pretend to none of this splendour; my turn-out consisted of a palankeen, eight or ten cahars or bearers (for in my time, whatever may have been the case in the doctor’s, it was not usual to carry the palankeens upon coolies); a bangby, or two baskets, containing my immediate necessaries, slung on an elastic bamboo; and a mussaulchee, or link-bearer; the torch carried by the latter being formed of rags rolled about an iron spindle, and looking something like a bandaged stump.
I thought there would have been no end to the handshaking and last “adieus,” with the repeated injunctions not to forget that I should always find a knife and fork and a hearty welcome at the Junglesoor Factory.
At last, however, I “broke away,” as the fox-hunters say, I believe, and threw myself into the palankeen; the bearers, with a groan, lifted their burthen on their shoulders; the mussaulchee poured oil on his link from its long-spouted receptacle, which, flaring up, broughtout the whole scene, house, trees, and congregated group on the terrace, with a wild and spectral glare. I waved my hand, half-closed the doors of my palankeen, threw myself back:—the curtain had dropped on act the second of my griffinage, and I was soon on my journey to Barrackpore.
On we went, through the murky gloom of night, dispelled for fifty yards around by the glare of the mussaul; sometimes on a fair and beaten track, at others, splashing through wet rice-fields, or traversing with infinite caution some causeway or embankment, as perilous as the bridge of Al Sirat.
The monotonousUrree-hy-he-hawchant of the bearers soon sent me off into a doze, from which I was only aroused occasionally by blundering attempts to put me and my palankeen on board a boat, in crossing some lazy river, on which occasions, the torch-light, the red glare on the water, and the dark figures on board, would bring old Charon and his Stygian ferry to my imagination; or the disturbance arose when they set me down, not over gently, on the skirts of some village or thannah, preparatory to a change of bearers.
At the end of the first stage, one of my active bipeds opened the doors of my palankeen, popped in his greasy frontispiece, reeking with oil and perspiration, and, with a grin, said something I did not understand, but in which the wordbuckshish(presents) was remarkably distinct.
“Go to the d——l,” exclaimed I; “boxes, nosumjha[20]boxes.”
My friend now tried it on another tack, and, placing the finger of one hand in the palm of the other, with a knowing look, repeated the word “rupee.”
Oh, thought I, are you there? I see your drift; but, knowing they had already been paid, I abruptly closed the doors and the conversation at once, with thundering “Jow-jehanum!”[21]a phrase I had picked up (withoutknowing the precise meaning of it) from Capt. Marpeet, who, in his intercourse with the natives, made frequent use of it, as a sort of receipt in full.
I passed the greater part of the following day with a planter on the road, a friend of Mr. Capsicum’s, and started again in the evening.
The fresh air of the morn aroused me after my second nocturnal journey, and I looked out. We were in a rich, flat, and luxuriant country; all nature seemed smiling; the ryot was moving out to his work, and ruddy streaks appeared through the tall, tufted stems of coco-nut and taree-palms, blushing Aurora truly looking out of the barred casements of the East.
I calculated that I must now be nearly at the end of my journey; and this supposition was, in a few minutes, most agreeably confirmed by a young officer, in a red raggie and hunting-cap, riding up on a pony, and addressing a few words to my bearers in Hindostanee.
I looked hard at him, and in an instant recognized the well-known features of my schoolfellow, Tom Rattleton. The recognition was mutual, and electrical the effect; out I rolled,sans chapeau; off he tumbled from his tattoo, and we were soon locked in a close embrace—aye, I say in a close embrace; true affection, like true courage, is a desperate grappling affair, and a mere handshaking would have been high treason to the feelings which at that moment swelled our bosoms.
“My dear Frank!”
“My dear Tom!”
“How glad I am to see you!”
“How you are grown! but I should have known you anywhere, old fellow.”
“So should I you, old boy.”
“Well—eh—and how goes it?”
Thus we exploded a volley of queries and interjections, which escaped by fitful jerks, like water from bottles suddenly inverted. There was no acting here, but ahearty burst of honest nature—fresh as the morning air we were breathing.
The warmth of our greeting a little subsided, I resumed my recumbent position in the palankeen, and on went the bearers, jolting along at a rattling pace, having apparently caught all our animation, with revived hopes of “buckshish.” Rattleton trotted alongside, talking incessantly, and in a short time the military cantonment of Barrackpore broke in view.
We crossed the parade, where all was life and animation; soldiers drilling, recruits on one leg doing the goose-step, drums beating, drill-sergeants shouting, and bugles sounding.
We passed through the lines, thronged with sepoys in their graceful undress, and were soon at my friend’s bungalow, in which, after dismissing my bearers, I entered to take up my quarters. Rattleton gave me another shake, as if he had been working a pump handle and cordially bidding me welcome.
A certain writer, who laid the scene of a romance in India, when not quite so well known as at present, describes our hero, I have been told, as sailing in a bungalow on the broad and placid surface of the Ganges, which, by a slight geographical error, is made to traverse the vale of Kashmere. Now, though I give my reader credit for knowing something more of the matter than this, a slight description of a bungalow may not be unacceptable, nevertheless.
The houses occupied by Europeans in India are of two descriptions; thepuckahouse—havilee, orkottee—and the bungalow. The former of brick or stone, is flat roofed, and, excepting in Calcutta, almost always of one story;i.e.the rooms are all on the ground floor, though considerably raised from the ground; they have green Venetian windows, and are encompassed, wholly or partially, by a terrace, covered with cement, shaded by a verandah or awning.
The bungalow partakes more of the cottage, or, Ishould perhaps rather say, the barn, being, in nineteen cases out of twenty, covered with a ponderous thatch, requiring frequent renewal, the operations of the white ants and periodical rains soon converting it into a cake of mud, through which pactolean rills frequently find their way to the interior, meandering down the walls.
The bungalow is invariably of one story, and constructed on the principle of a single or double-poled tent, or routie, according to the size; the resemblance to tents occupied by officers is indeed striking, though which is the original and which the copy I cannot say. It has usually double walls, though in some cases that which answers to the outer is little more than a range of pillars.
The space between, called the verandah, is occupied by master’s palankeen, camp equipage, &c.; there, too, the bearers, orcahars, lie and snore during the sultry hours, till roused from their slumbers by a kick from master’s foot; there, too, the patientdirgee, or snip, sits cross-legged, hard at work on the beebee sahib’s ball-dress, or the sahib’s nether garments, which he holds on with his great toe and the next one to it with all the skill of the OrderQuadrumana, to the astonishment of the griffinish beholder.
Talk of our “light fantastic toes,” indeed; what are they to a black fellow’s,—adorned, too, with a fine silver great-toe-ring to boot!Mais revenons. The ceilings, instead of lath and plaster, are composed of coarse cotton cloth, whitewashed, and tied with numerous tags or strings to a framework of bamboo running round the apartment, and concealed from view by the projecting cornice; between this and the rafters is a dark void, the airy hall of the rats and bandicoots, who sometimes hold theirsoirées dansantesandconversazionein it, careering over the cloth with lively and varied squeakings.Purdahs,chicks(blinds), andjhamps(frames of straw and bamboo), and sometimes glass doors, serve to close the entrances; the latter are, indeed, prettycommon, except at very uncivilized and out-of-the-way stations.
Furniture harbours reptiles and is expensive to carry about; officers’ bungalows are, consequently, but slenderly supplied with moveables. A couch, one or two tables, half a dozen chairs, a book-shelf, asettrinjie(or cotton carpet, with blue and white stripes, and which also serves for the tent when marching), and a few wall-shades &c., generally constitute the adornments of an Indian officer’s residence.
In the abodes of civilians, whose lots are cast in pleasanter places, and who lead less erratic lives than the military, and have far longer purses, things approximate more nearly to the English standard of luxury and comfort.
At military stations, puckha flat-roofed houses are rare, and generally occupied by the general commanding, or some other exalted functionary in the receipt of large allowances.
My friend’s bungalow was a regular Indian sub’s abode, and fell wofully below my standard of comfort, though in his opinion, formed on more experienced views of Indian life, it was quite as it should be.
In the first place, the grandsalon, orsalle à manger, contained one square camp-table, two chairs and a half, a footstool of basket work, in the shape of a devil (the thing played with two sticks, I mean); his hog-spear and gun occupied one corner, and hard by hung suspended his library; not quite so large as the Bodleian, to be sure, but containing, nevertheless, some very good cut-and-come-again sort of books.
First, there was a family Gibbon, properly docked and curtailed, a present from his grandmother; Gilchrist’s Grammar; Williamson’sVade Mecum, and Taplin’s Farriery; theTota Kuhanee,[22]Mother Glass’s Cookery, and a ponderoustome, which I at first took for a Family Bible with explanatory notes, but whichturned out to be an abridgment of the rules and regulations of the Bengal army, monuments of the legislative skill of all the commanders-in-chief and governors-general from the time of Clive downwards.
Tom’s dormitory was still more scantily furnished: it contained a small camp-cot, on which, much at its ease, reposed a terrier bunnow—own brother to Teazer, I could have sworn—a chair, a washhand stand, or chillumchee, a cracked looking-glass, two camel trunks, and as manypataras; whilst on a peg hung what he sometimes jocularly termed his badges of slavery—to wit, a sword, a sash, and shoulder-belt.
The third apartment in the bungalow, small and bare, was assigned to me, and Rattleton good-naturedly sent a servant off to the fort to bring up the things I had left there in apaunchway.
After showing me the interior, we proceeded to the shady side of the bungalow, where, on a terrace, stood a chair, a teapoy, a small carpet, and other preparations for my friend’s second toilet. After parade or the morning’s ride, it is the invariable custom to dress again, an operation which, in the hot seasons, is repeated sometimes two or three times in the course of the day.
We should be rather surprised to see gentlemen in England sittingal frescoon the lawns, barring a short pair of drawers, as naked as gladiators; but, as I said before, the sun makes a very considerable difference in our perceptions of things in general.
Prior to dressing, it is usual to take a bath, which is effected by thebhistee’s(water-carrier’s) sluicing over you the frigid contents of amussack, or tanned sheepskin bag. This braces the whole system, and adds a fresh edge to the appetite, already sharpened by the ride in the morning air. Breakfast is, consequently, attacked with a degree of vigour and determination not often seen even in our hyperborean clime.
After a comfortable meal, and disposing of a vast quantity of fish, rice, and muffins, Rattleton cocked hislegs on the table, bade me do the same, and make myself quite at home. The pipeman brought the hookha, and the bearer pulled the punka, and we proceeded to discuss a plan of proceeding for the morning.
“In the first place, we must call on the colonel this morning,” said Rattleton; “he is a very good sort of man, takes matters easily, and patronizes me especially, but is rather tenacious of having proper respect paid to him; then, after that, I’ll introduce you to the general, and some of the other officers of the corps and station, and in the evening we’ll drive you out in the park, where you’ll see all the beauty and fashion of Barrackpore. By the way, Frank, there are some devilish nice spins just now here, which, perhaps, you’ll not be sorry to hear.”
“Certainly not,” I replied; “but I hope, Tom, you’re not thinking of committing matrimony just yet, are you?”
“Why, I don’t exactly know,” said Tom; “there’s a very sweet little girl here, who has made a sad hole in my heart; such a pair of eyes as she has—oh! Frank—but you’ll see. I have made a hundred resolutions against being spliced, but one glance of those death-dealing orbs sends them all to shivers in a minute. I am like a moth flitting about a candle, and shall go plump into the mischief at last, I see that very plainly. Perhaps, though, Frank, as you are not a bad-looking fellow, you may keep down or divert a little of the fire of that terrible artillery.”
“Why, I don’t know,” said I, laughing; “it is not so easy to create a diversion in these cases, and not over safe; besides, who knows, if successful, but that the fire of your love may be changed into that of jealousy, and that you may be opening another sort of battery on me! But seriously, I can feel for you, Tom, for already my poor heart has been amazingly riddled by a charming young lady we left at Madras, and more recently by a widow. ’Pon my life, I begin to think the Orientals do wisely in locking up their women.”
Tom Rattleton receiving the Morning Report of the “Fat Lord” and the “Red Lion.”
Tom Rattleton receiving the Morning Report of the “Fat Lord” and the “Red Lion.”
Tom Rattleton receiving the Morning Report of the “Fat Lord” and the “Red Lion.”
“I begin to think so too,” said Tom, with a sigh: “they do a confounded deal of mischief; at all events, those radiant and Mokannah-visaged dames should be closely veiled with good opaque stuff, as you muzzle dangerous dogs.”
“What a simile, Tom! But your plan would be of no avail; a mere masking of the battery, which, upon fit occasions, would open upon us with more deadly effect.”
Whilst we were thus chatting, the blind of the room was drawn aside, and Cherby Khan and Loll Sing (which translated mean “the fat lord” and “the red lion”), the subadar and lance-naick or corporal of my friend’s company, marched in to make their morning’s report.
A native of Hindostan, well off in the world, and with a mind at ease, fattens as regularly and surely as a pig or a stall-fed ox. The subadar was consequently a punchy, adipose little fellow, something of the cut and build of “Mon oncle Gil Perez.” The naick, on the contrary, was tall and spare, and a very proper and handsome man of his inches.
On entering (stiff as a ramrod), the little subadar, who showed a good civic rotundity in front, threw out his right arm horizontally, with a jerk, which might have almost dislocated it from the shoulder-joint, and then bringing up his hand to his cap, saluted in a most military style, and reported that “all was well,” “sub ucha” in the company of the “Gurreeb Purwar,” or “protector of the poor,” for so he designated my friend Tom.
This was the statement in the gross, with which, however, it appeared there was little correspondence in the items; these proved, I afterwards understood from Tom, to be—two men dead, five gone to hospital, three deserted, a musket lost, and sundry other mishaps.
The “red lion” now stepped briskly forward, as if going to knock Tom down; recovered his arms with a crack, which made me almost jump out of my chair, and proceeded at once to “unfold a tale” ofconsiderable length, to which my friend replied, “Ucha,”[23]and “Bhote khoob,”[24]though it was pretty clear, from his perplexed look and embarrassed air, that he did not understand one-third of it. In point of fact, the aforesaid statement was evidently one which involved some knotty point for “the protector of the poor’s” decision, and requiring something more tangible in the way of comment than the aforesaid “Bhote khoob.”
My friend, however, dismissed him with a “Peechee hookum,” “orders deferred,” a sort of “call again to-morrow” phrase, much used in India, when time is sought to be gained. Another salute from the subadar, another formidable crack of the fusee from Loll Sing, and both wheeled on their heels, andexeunt. “Buggy lou juldee” (“bring quick the gig”), “Jal kreech do” (and “give me my sash and sword”), shouted Rattleton.
A sort of whiskey, which my friend sported on his ensign’s pay, was soon at the door. He was duly equipped, and in we both stepped, and drove off to the bungalow of Colonel Lollsaug, the commandant of my friend’s regiment, which I shall call the 95th N.I., or “Zubberdust Bullumteers.”
We were ushered in, and found the colonel smoking his hookha, with a sneaker of cold tea before him, a sort of prolongation of the breakfast almost universal in India. He rose as we entered, and shook hands with Tom, who presented me as his friend recently arrived.
The colonel was a gaunt figure of six feet two, or thereabouts, with sallow sunken cheeks, and two little tufts of grizzled whisker near the corner of his mouth; he was dressed in a not uncommon morning dishabille, consisting simply of a shirt and red camlet jacket, a pair of immensepajammas, or native trousers, tied with a silken string at the waist, whilst an immense pair of spangled Indian slippers, with curly toes as long as rams’ horns, adorned his feet; an embroidered velvetscull-cap was perched on the top of his head: and altogether he was as striking a specimen of the epicene gender of the Orientalized European as I had as yet seen.
The colonel asked me if I had recently arrived? how I liked India? what the folks were doing at home? if St. Paul’s stood where it used to do? and sundry other questions of a like nature, to all of which I gave suitable replies.
Rattleton told him we were old schoolfellows, and that I had a strong desire to do duty with his corps for a month, if it could be so arranged. The colonel kindly undertook to manage the matter, and told Tom to introduce me to the adjutant, who would have me instructed in the drill, and manual and platoon, with some other young men then with the regiment.
The colonel now asked my friend if he had been at the grand ball an evening or two before, and how it went off?
Tom said he had, and they had a very pleasant evening, second supper, lots of dancing, and some good songs, and that there were strong suspicions that the general was a little “fou.”
“Well,” said the colonel; “that’s all right, but wasshethere?”
“Who, sir?” asked my friend, very innocently.
“Come, come, that won’t do, Mr. Slyboots,” said the colonel; “I know all about it; ha! ha! ha!”
“’Pon my honour, sir,” said Rattleton, blushing, “you are too enigmatical for me.”
“Capital,” said the colonel, who was in a bantering humour; “why, Prattle tells me it’s all settled, license written for, and that you are going to cart her[25]immediately—ha! ha! ha!”
I saw, of course, that all this had reference to the spinster with the fine eyes. Though my friend affectedignorance of the matter, he was evidently flattered by being made the subject of such an agreeableon dit.
Whilst this was going on, I was startled and surprised by seeing the head of a very pretty Indian lady, with jet black locks, large gazelle eyes, and a huge gold ring in her nose, pop from behind thepurdah, or curtain, and the owner of which exclaimed, at the top of a very shrill voice, “Urree Dhyya Paundaunneelou.”[26]
The colonel said something rather sharply.
“To vau,” pettishly exclaimed the apparition, and the head and a pretty be-ringed hand were withdrawn, and immediately from an opposite door an elderly black duenna, with a pair of wrinkled trousers, orpajammas, and half-concealed by a cowl-like sort of muslin robe, marched in a stately manner,sans cérémonie, her anklet bells jingling, right across the apartment, with a huge metal box under her arm, which I afterwards learnt was a betel-box, and which it seems was the article which the colonel’s sultana stood in need of.
Egad, thinks I to myself, they order things in the East rather differently from what they do in the West.
After a little more conversation we took our leave, having previously received an invitation to dine the next evening with the quaint commandant.