Zemindar (42 page)

Safe in my room, I locked the door and threw myself face down on the high brass bedstead. I had to produce some order in the tumult of my mind before I could face my relatives or Oliver Erskine. I had to determine what course to take, what attitude to adopt, how to conduct myself now that I was party to this secret side of Mr Erskine’s life. I had also to face the fact that I was more shocked, indeed alarmed, by my discovery than any young woman of four-and-twenty had the right to be. After all, such ‘arrangements’, as I knew from Kate, were not uncommon in India. Or elsewhere, for that matter, I reminded myself honestly. Happily Mount Bellew never knew it, but after my mother’s death, a succession of plump and pretty young ‘aunts’ resided in our rambling Genoese villa, invited, so Father said, to make ‘us’ comfortable; and had not our Italian neighbours danced at my father’s wedding just three months before the birth of my short-lived little half-brother? I, of all people, had no right to behave like an outraged schoolgirl.

But what was I to do? Tell Charles of my discovery and ask him to take us away? How could I? It was too delicate a matter to broach with a gentleman, and there was also a hint of tale-telling that I did not like. And if I told him and he did decide to leave, it would be the end of all his hopes (imaginary though they might be) of inheriting Hassanganj. There was also the indubitable fact that men take a much more lenient view of such matters than women. He might even refuse to believe my suspicions regarding his brother. Not that it was a mere suspicion in my mind. I had discovered Oliver Erskine practically in the arms of his native mistress, and he must now know that I realized all the implications of his presence in that secluded tower with the beautiful Mohammedan girl and Yasmina. Recalling the expression on his face as he had looked down at me in the dim room, I blushed anew. No shame! No embarrassment! Merely irritation followed by a look of quizzical enquiry, and I was almost sure I heard him laugh as I ran down the steps and the sketchbook fell from my hand.

Then again, if I were to divulge my knowledge to Charles and he decided not to leave Hassanganj my position would be doubly difficult. Better to hold my tongue. Much better.

My windows overlooked the back of the house and below me now I could hear the minor babel of noise that always breaks out when a group of Indians are engaged in a common task. They must be unloading the bullock-carts, I thought, and putting away the camping equipment. Charles must have returned earlier with Oliver, or had Mr Erskine, starved for the embrace of his paramour after only three days’ absence, hastened back alone? This thought was not one I chose to entertain, so again I turned my mind to my own problems: what now should be my attitude to my host when next I met him?

I would have liked to show outrage; enjoyed being indignant. But common sense indicated that if I could not disclose the matter to my relatives any marked change in my manner towards Mr Erskine would need explanation. In any case, I was sure that he himself would be quite unperturbed by my disapproval. Lying hot and sticky in the unlit room, I devised furious schemes for his discomfiture; only after some time spent in this fruitless pursuit did I ask myself why it was so necessary for me to wound him? Because he had hurt me? I discarded the suggestion. He was in no position to hurt me. I cared nothing for him and had known of his reputation with women before ever I had met him. Because he had embarrassed me, then? Yes, that was it! He had embarrassed me and I had not even managed to disconcert him!

To find I was still capable of honesty with myself restored me to a measure of equanimity. The crux of the matter lay in the ridiculous fashion in which I had bolted out of the tower—like a scared rabbit—and I still could not think of any less precipitate alternative. One does not attempt small-talk on such occasions. However, I acknowledged to myself that I was ashamed of my undignified retreat, annoyed that my embarrassment had been so obvious, and above all angry that any man’s behaviour could make me look a fool even in my own eyes. But such, I assured myself sternly, was the case. Now it behoved me to recover my self-respect by showing Oliver Erskine that I possessed sufficient
sang froid
to behave as though nothing untoward had happened!

So, after much inner turmoil, I came to the simple determination to act towards him as I had always done, with, of course, private and stringent reservations regarding his character.

I unlocked my door, and allowed Bhunjni to summon the
bhisti
with my bathwater. By the time the gong sounded for dinner, I was refreshed and ready for the rigours of the evening.

The others were already seated when I slipped into my chair at the long candlelit table, and I was conscious that, despite my resolution, I found it hard to meet the eyes of my host. Not that he suffered from a similar inhibition; he was giving Emily an account of the tour, while Charles, sunburnt and obviously tired, added a word of explanation from time to time. A fire, Mr Erskine said, had destroyed a prime stand of sal trees at his northern boundary; Rohilla raiders, he suspected. A gang of
dacoits
had murdered a
bunnia
in one of his villages and cut off the noses of his womenfolk, but since the man was a notorious moneylender, he had probably deserved his death. The eastern canal banks had been breached and water stolen by a neighbouring
zemindar
, and this last was the only matter which he was inclined to take seriously. He would have to place guards along the canal since, with the hot weather upon us, his villagers could not afford to lose their water.

‘So on the whole it was a successful tour?’ Emily congratulated him, using the matronly tone usual to her when sitting at the head of the Hassanganj table.

‘If success is measuring the extent of one’s misfortunes.’

‘But surely it is as well to know the worst, and there is nothing you cannot deal with after all?’

‘As to that, I am not so sure!’

‘Come now, Oliver,’ put in Charles. ‘What is there you cannot put to rights on this estate? From what I’ve seen, your powers are almost absolute, as are your resources and your knowledge!’

‘I can only smooth the smaller difficulties, believe me. I am impotent to deal with my real enemies. I cannot avert a famine, or stop the smallpox. I cannot outlaw cholera or do away with poverty.’ He spoke morosely, crumbling a slice of bread in his thin brown fingers. ‘But above and beyond these perennial disasters, I believe we are on the edge of another, a new one, and while I was away I had news of something that may well push us over the brink.’

‘Is it this trouble among the natives that everyone is discussing?’

‘Not so much the natives, Emily, as the native sepoys, and, since few families in my villages are not in some way dependent upon the earnings of the sepoys, I fear that we will be affected by any trouble coming.’

‘Is it those strange
chapattis
again?’

‘No, or not directly anyway. It’s this business of the new cartridges. You already know about them. I did not realize until this week how generally known the story is, nor how seriously it has been taken by the sepoys.’

He fell silent and abstractedly balanced a knife on the edge of a glass.

‘As a race,’ he continued quietly, ‘we seem to be curiously intent on devising our own downfall in India.’

‘Everyone makes mistakes!’ objected Charles impatiently.

‘Yes, everyone makes mistakes, and the wise learn from them. The British in India have not done so. Look—no, please listen to me for a moment’—as Charles broke in again. ‘In less than ten years the Company has acquired territories in India equal to more than three times the area of England—by conquest, by chicanery, and latterly by annexation. Oh, of course it was always necessary! Aggrandizement, whether personal or national, can always be justified by necessity, can it not? We tell ourselves complacently that the provinces and principalities we have so acquired are now better administered, more justly ruled, more productively employed than they ever were under their native rulers. This is probably true. I hold no brief for the general run of native princelings and petty rajahs but, whatever their deficiencies, they belonged to the people, were of the people in a way no Company official or Resident can ever hope to be. In deposing these rulers we have not only created a vast discontent among the plain people, but among those we have dethroned are some who will be anxious and able to act as leaders when trouble comes. All that has been needed has been the spark to set the tinder blazing. And I think now we have provided just this spark—in this incident of the cartridges!’

He paused again. Emily was all attention, but Charles played with his salt in boredom as we waited for the next course.

‘The irony is that the cartridges themselves have been withdrawn and I am told that only a limited number were issued, let alone used by the sepoys. None the less the damage has been done. I believe that we have managed to supply the aggrieved people of this country with the one thing that can unify them against us—an injury that affects all castes and creeds to the same extent and will inflame them equally. When one remembers the diversity of beliefs and loyalties existing in India, this is in itself quite an achievement. Almost, one might say, an inspiration!’

‘You have just said the Army are the ones concerned,’ pointed out Charles, ‘and now you are talking of the whole country.’

‘It has started in the Army and so far is confined to the Army. But will it stop there?’

‘What do you expect to happen?’ asked Charles resignedly. I could see it was not a subject that interested him much.

‘I have no idea. I am only convinced that the trouble is more far-reaching, goes much deeper, than the authorities are yet prepared to admit. I would go so far as to say that matters are coming to a head. And rapidly. A secondary purpose of my tour was to try to estimate the temper of the people and to judge the reliability of certain, well… rumours and reports that have come to my ears. I have not been reassured by what I have discovered.’

Charles was no longer bored.

‘Are we—the Europeans, I mean—going to be implicated, would you say?’

‘Naturally!’

‘But then—why, there’s Emily to be thought of! She must run no risks.’

‘I don’t believe we need fear for our personal safety out here. Unless, of course, matters take a more dramatic turn than I foresee, or the authorities in Calcutta bungle things again.’

‘But really, Oliver, if there is any risk at all, I cannot allow Emily to remain here. It would be criminal. I don’t want to play the coward, but perhaps we would be wise to leave while the going is good.’

‘Go Home you mean?’

‘Of course.’

‘By ship? With a woman far gone in pregnancy? And in this heat?’

Charles paled beneath the sunburn and Emily blushed. Though long evident to every eye, her impending motherhood had never been mentioned openly, let alone before an unmarried male. I believe I was the only member of the party to retain my normal complexion, for even Oliver was flushed with irritation and wine.

‘I suppose you are right,’ Charles admitted grudgingly. ‘But then what are we to do?’

‘Stay here for the present and see how the wind blows.’

‘We had intended to return to Lucknow in a fortnight’s time. These roads are so execrable, it would be foolish to delay here after that. Emily’s … condition makes it imperative for us to remove to Lucknow very shortly.’

‘If trouble comes, Lucknow will be its focus! Not only because it was the seat of the Nawabs of Oudh but because of the military concentrated in and around it. I would advise you to stay on here for as long as possible.’

‘But. Emily must have a doctor and a good midwife. My wife is not a barbarian that she should give birth to her first child unattended.’

‘A lot of women have to! But that’s beside the point. If I am not being too brutal, Emily, may I ask when the event is expected?’

‘The end of May,’ Emily replied in a small voice.

‘I see.’ Oliver was thoughtful. ‘It gets very hot here by the end of April, as it does in Lucknow. Would you not consider going directly to the hills?’

‘But the journey?’

‘Yes, the journey will be longer, but if you make it by palanquin, and by easy stages, it should not be any more trying than travelling to Lucknow by carriage. You will like my little bungalow in Mussoorie, Emily, and the town can provide all the facilities you need.’

‘Charles?’

Emily looked at her husband, who remained dubious.

‘We will have to talk it over,’ he replied. ‘It is not something we can decide on here and now.’

‘Very well. If you decide to go, I will make all necessary arrangements and see that you are adequately accompanied.’

Oliver had the sense not to press his suggestion, but I was certain it would be accepted, once Charles had had time to adjust to the idea.

Emily and I rose to leave the men to their port. The
abdar
opened the door for us but, as I was about to walk through, Oliver got up and detained me.

‘You dropped this,’ he said, ‘and I am sure you would not want to lose it.’ With the disarming smile that I had learnt to distrust he handed me my small sketchbook. As I took it, not knowing what to say or how to avoid the amusement in his eyes, something fluttered out from among the leaves and fell to my feet. I stooped quickly to retrieve it, thinking the paper was some sketch or letter of my own, but found instead a sheet of badly made native paper printed on both sides—in Urdu on one, and Hindi on the other.

I looked at it in puzzlement, then gave it to Oliver. ‘This must be yours.’

‘Oh, yes.’ He took it from me, and turned it over in his hands. ‘I had it in my pocket, along with your book, and it must have slipped between the pages. I found several of them during the course of my tour; the work of the esteemed Maulvi of Fyzabad, who is at the moment busily employed in distributing them around the country. Can you read it?’

I glanced at the smudged curlicues of the Urdu script and shook my head. ‘I wish I could, but my vocabulary is not up to that. What is it?’