THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
Prince John of Streplitz. 
 
 By MAJOR F. A, SYMONS. 
 
 Crown 8vo, 320 pages, 6s. Also Colonial Edition, cloth. 
 
 Setting and theme are alike fresh and unconventional. 
 The Heir Apparent of a European State wearies of the 
 glamour surrounding a throne, and during a surreptitious 
 holiday from thraldom, is wrecked off the coast of Morocco, 
 where he is captured by Arabs. 
 
 A beautiful girl shares his captivity while they are held 
 to ransom, and the love interest and adventures provide 
 entertainment of a high order. 
 
 Times.—" A capital piece of short but romantic narrative." 
 
 Edittboro' Evemng News. — " Well told, and deserves a good deal of commenda- 
 tion." 
 
 World.— " A delightful storv of the romantic type. The pathetic ending is 
 written with a touch of real tenderness, which goes straight to the heart." 
 
 Western Mail.—" Romance and adventures, full of excitement, holding the 
 reader to the last line." 
 
 Truth.—" Excellent. There is adventure, fun, excitement, and the thrill of 
 royalty." 
 
 Salisbury find Winchester Journal. — " Shows constructive power and sure 
 touch in characterisation, pleasantly romantic with plenty of incident 
 to maintain interest to the last page. . . . Something apart from 
 merely ephemeral literature. . . . Full of promise." 
 
 South Africa.—" We are glad to be able to congratulate Major Symons very 
 sincerely on the success of his premiere." 
 
 Western Daily Press.—" Abounding with excellent situations and exciting 
 incidents, also a most original love story, which constitutes a decided 
 charm to a story which is well told. The character studies are all well 
 done, and the writer is to be congratulated." 
 
 Outlook. — " A pleasantly romantic stor^^" 
 
 Lady's Pictorial. — " Never since ' The Prisoner of Zenda ' has there been such 
 a story. It is vivacious, thrilling, and absorbing, keeps one's attention 
 riveted to the end. Major Symons writes with knowledge of human 
 nature. His graphic description of scenery and places is extremely well 
 done, and his characterisation is very realistic. . . . Ver\' cleverly told 
 with the grace and ease of an experienced writer . . . eminently readable 
 and enjoyable." 
 
 Sheffield Independen'. — " Major Symons has drafted his story on quite original 
 lines." 
 
 Erith Times. — "Situations of great dramatic power, and a realism which 
 attracts and captivates." 
 
 Cork Examiner.— " Thf^ love story of the Prince is admirably described." 
 
 Yorkshire Post. — " A romantic story." 
 
 Liverpool Courier. — " A very taking story." 
 
 Montreal Star. — " Ably written. Major Symons is exceptional in having 
 unearthed a real hero. The story holds the attention with many excite- 
 ments. Major Symons writes with the clear, forceful directness of a man 
 of action." 
 
 Morning Post.—" Entertaining reading. . . . Must be read. Major 
 Symons has given the old theme another lease of life." 
 
 Bristol Observer.—" Rarely has the subject been handled so attractively. The 
 
 ^ . crowning success is the way the author handles the closing chapters dealing 
 
 \i., with the royal hero's affections. Major Symons sketches some most 
 
 ^ attractive characters for his readers, and the book is one of absorbing 
 interest." 
 
 Sheffield Telegraph.—" Certainly a novel out of the ordinan,' type of present-day 
 fiction." 
 
 Field. — "Told with animation and feeling." 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 1 
 
 BY 
 
 MAJOR F. A. SYMONS 
 
 (AUTHOR OF "PRINCE JOHN OF STREPLITZ ") 
 
 LONDON 
 
 LYNWOOD & CO., LTD. 
 
 12, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.G. 
 
 1914 
 
TO 
 
 " MADAM " 
 
 P- 
 
 T K 
 
 Mt>l 
 
 
 1^ 
 
PRINTED BY 
 
 TliE LONDON AND NORWICH PRESS, LIMITED 
 
 LONDON AND NORWICH 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Desmond Cleeve braced himself against the small 
 hurricane which swept the decks of the P. and O. 
 steamship ''Scudan,*' and thanked his stars that at 
 least sea-sickness was not one of his vices. The great 
 rollers, born amidst the untrammelled expanse of the 
 Atlantic ocean, swept down upon the vessel's quarter 
 with a force of apparent annihilation. Now and 
 again, shivering as if with ague, the wretched ship 
 thrust her nose into an abysmal trough, and the 
 screw, rising heavenwards, raced impotently. 
 
 With a well-calculated dash across the deck 
 Desmond flung himself at the door of the smoking 
 room. In another moment, the door, caught by the 
 wind, closed behind him amidst a shower of spindrift 
 that half-swamped the cabin. 
 
 *' Bit thick outside, isn't it? " 
 
 Desmond, shaking the moisture from his face, 
 glanced across at the speaker. The latter, the only 
 other occupant of the cabin, was wedged in between 
 a cushioned corner and a marble-topped table, his 
 long legs affording an efficient prop for preventing 
 him from being thrown across the deck. It was a 
 cheery voice, and the owner of it, brown-eyed, with 
 dark brown hair and small moustache, bore out its 
 character in every line of his smiling face. 
 
 ''By Jove, yes I" answered Desmond *' It took 
 me all my time to get here from the saloon. You 
 
 7 
 
8 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 and 1 appear to be the only two passengers still alive 
 on the ship.'* 
 
 '* Looks like it, certainly," cried the other, yawn- 
 ing. *' Don't suppose there is any use in ringing 
 for the stev/ard, or we might celebrate the occasion 
 by a drink— What do you think? This old Bay of 
 Biscay is a terror when she is roused, isn't she? 
 Ever been through before? " 
 
 *' No, never. And I expect my sister is wishing 
 that she may never be through again," replied 
 Desmond. 
 
 " Well, this is my first trip East also, so there is 
 another bond of union. We really must have that 
 drink." 
 
 As he spoke, he pressed the electric button, and, 
 uncurling his legs for an instant from the iron sup- 
 port of the table, made room for Desmond on the 
 seat beside him. 
 
 ''Permit me to introduce myself," continued he, 
 his large mouth breaking into a humorous curl. 
 ** Jack Mallory, at your service — a captain in the 
 West Cork Militia for four weeks of the year, and 
 a budding globe-trotter for the present." 
 
 " Ah, my name is Cleeve — Desmond Cleeve— also 
 a globe-trotter." 
 
 " At the instigation of a respected paternal relative, 
 I propose encircling the globe in search of know- 
 ledge," added Mallory. ''According to my father, 
 the intellectual attainments of the Militia are insuffi- 
 cient for the full mental development of a treasured 
 son. Under tropical suns my mind will absorb 
 instinctively what three years at Oxford failed to 
 provide." 
 
 The merry twinkle in Mallory's eyes and the soft 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 9 
 
 intonation of voice, tinged as it was by tiie merest 
 suspicion of a brogue, appealed to Desmond's sense 
 of humour and natural love of companionship. 
 This tall, lithe, young man of twenty-three, or there- 
 abouts, bid fair to prove an excellent fellow traveller. 
 Desmond, himself of Irish descent on his mother's 
 side, was never slow to meet the hand of fellowship 
 half-way. He liked this frank young man, and he 
 didn't object to shewing it. 
 
 ** Well, I hope we may become better acquainted 
 before we finish," said Desmond. '* My sister and I 
 are also bent upon seeing a little of the world. I 
 don't think we are likely to go beyond Ceylon, but 
 even that is something to people who have never been 
 farther than France. My sister, and a girl she is 
 chaperoning, are with me. I occupy the position of 
 courier. I am afraid that I cannot offer to introduce 
 you to them at present, as sea-sickness holds them in 
 absolute collapse in their cabin." 
 
 '' Beastly thing, sea-sickness! " grunted Mallory. 
 *' Hope they will soon be better, I'm sure. Ah, here's 
 the steward at last. What is it to be ? " 
 
 ** Whisky, thanks!" 
 
 ** Split whisky and soda, steward; and look here, 
 how much longer will it take us to get out of this 
 confounded bay? " 
 
 ** About another twelve hours, sir," answered the 
 steward, hanging on to a stanchion. "That is, if 
 she doesn't break her blooming propeller, sir." 
 
 " Humph! Why did I sell my farm and go to 
 sea?" cried Mallory .facetiously. ''Well, let us 
 drink while we may, anyway, so hurry up with that 
 whisky. If you can't walk, crawl ! " 
 
 Desmond look at his watch. It was rapidly 
 
lo CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 growing dusk. The night, with its prospect of sleep, | 
 would be easier for his charges to bear than the 
 everlasting monotony of the daylight hours of helpless 
 sickness. So long as this storm lasted there was no 
 hope for either of the girls. It was a bad start, but a 
 storm was better, perhaps, before than after a calm. 
 As for a moment he watched, through a porthole, the 
 rising and falling of the green seas, a ray of sunshine 
 penetrated the clouds, flooding the cabin for an 
 instant, as if the bearer of some heavenly message. 
 His thoughts flew backwards to the old manor house 
 which they had left but three days before, and a 
 sadness filled his eyes. Above all things he wished 
 this to prove a happy journey from beginning to end. 
 Since the death of their father, six months before, he 
 and his sister, Margaret, were the sole remaining 
 members of the family. The strain of nursing her 
 father through a long and fatal illness had so told 
 upon Margaret that Desmond had clutched with 
 avidity at the suggestion of a voyage to Ceylon. To 
 bring happiness into the eyes of Margaret was at 
 present his one ambition. That Gerald Gordon whom 
 he had not seen since his college days, ten years 
 before, should so opportunely invite him to pay him a 
 winter visit to Ceylon seemed providential. 
 
 Gordon was a bachelor, but, according to his own 
 statements, he possessed a large planter's bungalow 
 capable of accommodating a dozen visitors. He had 
 never met Margaret Cleeve, but seemed delighted that 
 Desmond would not come without her. In fact, no 
 sooner had the arrangements for the journey been 
 completed, than a lengthy cablegram had asked Miss 
 Desmond to chaperon Gordon's young niece, Cicely 
 Rosmead. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON n 
 
 Cicely was a complete stranger to Margaret Cleeve, 
 but any misgivings that the latter may have at first 
 formulated were, once and for all, swept away when 
 the latter met Cicely a week before their departure. 
 The large, dark-blue eyes of the younger girl 
 presented depths of sympathetic beauty which the 
 saddened Margaret could not resist. The enthusiastic 
 voice of Cicely as she thanked Margaret Cleeve for her 
 kindness in taking her on such an enchanting 
 journey, had won the kindly heart of the latter in 
 an instant. 
 
 Cicely's mother was Gerald Gordon's sister. The 
 girl, ever since she had left school, two years before, 
 had been promised that, some day, she should visit 
 her uncle. She had looked forward to an Eastern 
 voyage as to a visit to some land of the Arabian 
 Nights. The suddenness of its fulfilment had thrown 
 her into a state of delight that even the subsequent 
 tortures of the Bay of Biscay could not quench. 
 
 Desmond's sadness changed to a smile of pleasure 
 as a picture of Cicely Rosmead's laughing eyes rose 
 up before him. He was heartily glad that his sister 
 had been given such a delightful companion, whose 
 happy laughter dispersed shadows like a ray of 
 sunshine. 
 
 His soliloquy was suddenly interrupted by the 
 advent of the steward, who, with one leg twisted 
 round a table leg, swayed about like a dying teetotum. 
 
 ''How is she heading now, steward?" cried 
 Mallory cheerily. 
 
 " First officer says she is running out of the heavy 
 sea, sir. We shall be all right by morning, I expect. 
 Say when, sir! " 
 
 Mallory swallowed a mouthful of whisky and soda, 
 
12 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 and glanced with a meditative smile at the rapidly- 
 darkening port-hole. 
 
 ** King Solomon said that two of the most 
 wonderful things in the world are the flight of an eagle 
 and the ways of a man with a maid. He could as 
 conscientiously have added — and the ways of the Bay 
 of Biscay. Don't you agree? " 
 
 ** Yes, I quite think so," answered Desmond, 
 laughing. " But if he had said * the ways of a maid 
 with a man,' instead of the other way about, I am not 
 sure that I would even back the Bay of Biscay." 
 
 •' Humph ! Nor I ! Have you found that out too ? '* 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Why, the devilishness of the ways of a maid." 
 
 " No, I don't know that I have," replied Desmond. 
 *' I don't think I am particularly susceptible to 
 feminine wiles." 
 
 Jack Mallory groaned tragically, but the next 
 moment his eyes glittered with mirth. 
 
 " I wish to heavens I w^asn't," he cried. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 The next morning, as the steward had predicted, 
 brought with it so complete a change of weather that 
 the deck, even before breakfast, assumed an actual 
 air of gaiety. The sun shone brightly from a sky of 
 cobalt, flecked here and there by the mere remnants 
 of fleecy clouds. The coast of Portugal seemed very 
 near as the ship steamed past its rock-bound head- 
 lands. A long, lazy swell still rolled shorewards from 
 the open sea, but even this was momentarily lessening. 
 Gibraltar would soon be reached. The Mediterranean, 
 with its azure water and cloudless skies, would, within 
 a day or two, become a reality instead of only an 
 impression obtained by reading travellers' tales. The 
 very East itself, with all that imagination promised, 
 seemed to those whose thoughts so eagerly flew apace, 
 actually within their grasp. 
 
 Jack Mallory, smoking a matutinal cigarette, leaned 
 against the leeward rail, waiting for the first sound of 
 the breakfast bell. He scanned the various passengers 
 with special interest. Before leaving Tilbury he had 
 seen Desmond Cleeve with two ladies, and his 
 susceptible gaze had not failed to notice their 
 attractiveness. Desmond's offer of an introduction 
 had whetted his appetite amazingly. He could hardly 
 hope to see them so soon on deck, but they must 
 surely be well enough to appear in an hour or two. 
 Presently, seeing Desmond emerge from the saloon, 
 he impulsively dived across the deck in pursuit. 
 
 " Hullo, Cleeve, good morning ! " he cried. '* Come 
 
 13 
 
14 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 up for a whiff of the breeze ? Makes one jolly peckish, 
 doesn't it? I hope the ladies are bucking up a bit! 
 Nothing like fresh air for sea-sickness." 
 
 "Oh, yes, thanks," replied Desmond, answering 
 the last question first. ** I will get them up after 
 breakfast. Come and walk! " 
 
 The two men automatically fell into step, and 
 joined a queue of promenaders. As they walked up 
 and down the spacious deck, the difference in appear- 
 ance and mannerisms between them was more 
 noticeable than even it had been in the smoking-room 
 the day before. Mallory was a couple of inches taller 
 than Desmond, and whilst the one was dark, with a 
 moustache, the other was fair and clean-shaven. 
 But it was not in physical appearance that the 
 difference principally lay. Mallory appeared younger 
 than his age, whereas Desmond's thirty-five years 
 were in no way concealed. In the latter's steady grey 
 eyes, reposeful and dependable, there was none of that 
 ever-varying expression which shone, humorously 
 and seductively, from those of Jack Mallory. But 
 whilst Mallory would attract by his very force of 
 impulsiveness, the older and cooler-blooded Desmond 
 carried upon his countenance a stamp of helpful action 
 which, in times of stress, it is good to know is near 
 at hand. Jack Mallory was essentially the man for an 
 alluring flirtation. For confidences, a woman would 
 seldom hesitate if Desmond Cleeve were at her 
 elbow. 
 
 The clang of the breakfast bell resounded from 
 below. The two men turned on their heels towards 
 the saloon. Mallory, who was leading, suddenly 
 halted to make way for two figures half-blocking the 
 entrance. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 15 
 
 "Hullo, Meg!" exclaimed Desmond. ** And so 
 you've got here after all. And )''0u too, Miss Cicely I 
 Excellent I I congratulate you.'* 
 
 The smiling face of Margaret Cleeve,as she answered 
 her brother's cheerful greeting, was uncommonly like 
 his. The eyes were softer, but still the same. The 
 mass of chestnut hair, coiled simply in a great knot at 
 the nape of her neck, was darker than her brother's. 
 Her lips, parted in a half smile, displayed the most 
 perfect teeth imaginable. Her figure was slight, with 
 a supple grace of movement which would shew itself 
 later on when she was able to walk the deck with the 
 others. At present she was somewhat pale, but a few 
 hours of the fresh sea breeze would obviously soon 
 renew the touch of life in her cheeks. 
 
 " Come along," said Desmond, slipping his arm 
 through his sister's. " The sooner you get some food 
 the better. Besides, we are blocking the gangway." 
 He glanced admiringly at Cicely Rosmead. '* You 
 don't look very ill, anyway! I believe you are a 
 fraud." He laughed lightly. '' But I am afraid I 
 am forgetting my manners. Let me introduce Mr. 
 Mallory — my sister — Miss Rosmead." 
 
 Leading the way down to the saloon, Desmond 
 carried his sister off with him as he spoke. 
 
 Mallory, whose eyes had not left Cicely's face since 
 he had first realised her presence in the doorway, 
 seized his opportunity. 
 
 "Can I help you, Miss Rosmead?" he asked, 
 solicitously offering his arm. 
 
 "Oh dear no! thank you," answered the girl, 
 laughing. " I assure you I am quite well now." 
 
 Jack Mallory's prevailing fault was decidedly not 
 shyness. To make love at first sight to a pretty girl 
 
i6 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 was to him, as a rule, only too easy. But, somehow 
 or other, as he glanced at Cicely Rosmead's eyes, 
 half-veiled by long, drooping lashes, and caught 
 the mischievous twinkle therein, he hesitated. The 
 girl was certainly no prude, nor yet was she 
 a fool. He saw that. And as he followed closely 
 by her side and noted the smiling mouth, the 
 heightened colour that his admiring glances had 
 brought to her cheeks, the uncommon blackness of 
 her luxuriant hair, which she wore simply parted in 
 the middle and drawn back loosely from her forehead, 
 and the lithe grace of the youthful figure before him, 
 his ever-ready heart was aflame in a moment. 
 
 " At all events," he whispered, " I hope you will 
 allow me to find a seat at your table. I am hungering 
 for conversation. You have no idea how dull this 
 ship has been up to now." 
 
 " Of course you may," replied Cicely, entering the 
 saloon, " if you can find a place. But I am quite sure 
 that you and Mr. Cleeve cannot have found it half as 
 dull as we poor things who have been cooped up in 
 the cabin." 
 
 Mallory glanced with meaning at the girl's smiling 
 face. She did not appear to notice him. Woman is, 
 however, notoriously deceptive ! 
 
 ** I didn't think so until this moment," he said, 
 " but now I know that we were very dull." 
 
 The saloon was still far from full as they reached 
 the Cleeves' table. Mallory looked anxiously at the 
 names upon those seats still empty. To be cast adrift 
 amongst strangers at the very moment when his luck 
 seemed especially triumphant would be hard indeed to 
 bear. 
 
 ** Lots of room, Mallory," said Desmond. " Here 
 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 17 
 
 you are; you can sit between the ladies, and I will 
 guard the left flank." 
 
 Mallory needed no second bidding. In another 
 moment they were all seated. With Cicely at his side, 
 Jack Mallory at that instant didn't care what else 
 happened. 
 
 There were still a great many passengers absent, 
 but the sun shone through the ports, and there was a 
 cheerfulness abroad in the atmosphere which it was 
 difficult for even the sea-sick ones to resist for long. 
 The voyage promised to be a joyful one. Life and 
 laughter on every side already heralded what was to 
 come. The captain, in his place at the head of the 
 centre table, looked pleased; the stewards were alert 
 and watchful ; the menu was excellent. 
 
 Margaret Cleeve smiled with amusement as she 
 glanced at her brother, and nodded her head. The 
 impulsive attentions of Jack Mallory were already too 
 obvious to be unnoticed. Her duties of chaperone 
 seemed likely to be more onerous than she had at first 
 imagined. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 The storm which the " Soudan " had weathered in 
 the Bay would seem to have exhausted the powers of 
 the elements in one wild orgie. Certain it is that from 
 that day forward the fates sped the vessel onwards 
 through nothing but the calmest of blue waters, 
 beneath azure skies by day and moonlit glories by 
 right. Gibraltar, with its wondrous rock, the smelly, 
 precipitous, cobbled streets of Malta, the ever-varying 
 scenery of the North African coast, and the hundred- 
 and-one minor incidents of passing ships came and 
 went in due sequence. 
 
 Despite her preconceived exalted ideas, Cicely 
 Rosmead became day by day more enwrapped in the 
 interests of her surroundings. Her appreciation of 
 what she saw was as keen and sincere as was her 
 light-hearted acceptance of Jack Mallory's compli- 
 ments. Margaret also was as happy as the day was 
 long. Desmond noted the changed look in her face, 
 and was content. 
 
 Together, the four visited Gibraltar and explored 
 Malta. Desmond, unwilling to intervene between 
 Cicely and Jack, generally looked after his sister, leav- 
 ing the other two to their own devices. Now and 
 again, however, this arrangement would not be 
 permitted. For some inexplicable reason Cicely, 
 refusing to notice Desmond's most tactful efforts and 
 excuses, would often attach herself to him, leaving 
 the disconsolate Mallory to escort Margaret. Desmond, 
 
 i8 
 
CICEITY IN CEYLON ig 
 
 who imagined himself as being at the best of times 
 but a dull substitute for the vivacious and handsome 
 Jack, utterly failed to understand Cicely's reasons. 
 Nevertheless, he did not attempt to conceal from him- 
 self that he appreciated those moments to the full. 
 The girl's naivete was delicious. The honest appre- 
 ciation in her eyes as she listened attentively 
 to his explanations of things seen, and the obvious 
 regard she paid to his opinions, flattered him. The 
 responsiveness of her mirthful faculties to the many 
 humorous incidents of the voyage lifted him, in 
 sympathy, to a delightful plane of irresponsibility 
 which he had not known for years. 
 
 The peculiarities of an ocean voyage are such that, 
 before the ship reached Port Said, these four, 
 although so short a time acquainted, had become like 
 old friends. Jack and Cicely had become— certainly 
 so far as the former was able to manage it— insepar- 
 ables. That Mallory was hopelessly in love was plain 
 to all who cared to read. Margaret smiled, but some- 
 times sighed and wondered. She knew little of the 
 history of this impetuous young Irishman. He 
 appeared to be desirable. But who knew? In fact, 
 had it not been for her woman's intuition, the cautious 
 Margaret would have been sorely troubled. A 
 woman's instincts, however, are by no means 
 negligible quantities. The occasional glance which 
 she gave to Cicely seemed to ease her mind. Her 
 experience of things was just exactly eight years 
 greater than that of the younger girl. Until she 
 might see within Cicely's eyes that something, which 
 as yet she failed to find, there was time enough for 
 alarm. 
 
 Port Said, as the guardian of the Suez Canal, holds 
 
20 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 the key to the East. The soft, semi-tropical atmos- 
 phere, the babel of the hucksters of Oriental wares 
 in the sandy streets, the Egyptians and Arabs, and 
 the hives of blackened coolies on the great coal 
 barges, were all interesting to those so ready to be 
 pleased. The canal, stretching forth in its white 
 streak of fairyland towards the heart of the desert, 
 seemed to beckon them onwards with alluring 
 persistence. 
 
 The coaling of the ship was soon completed. 
 Mallory and Cicely, who had been idling on the 
 hotel verandah, watching jugglers and drinking thick 
 Turkish coffee, did not return to the ship until sunset. 
 The sailors, with blackened faces and trousers rolled 
 above the knees, were already sluicing the decks free 
 of the coal dust which had permeated to every nook 
 and cranny. 
 
 In another few moments the dinner gong sounded. 
 Before the meal was finished, the vessel had taken 
 her pilot on board and was under w^ay. Their anxiety 
 to miss nothing of the canal journey caused every- 
 body to make a hurried meal. Mallory had to skip 
 half his dinner in order to follow Cicely on deck. 
 Desmond and Margaret took things more quietly, but 
 they soon followed. 
 
 The sunset's reddened glow, almost kaleidoscopic 
 in its tints of crimson and orange and purple, lit up 
 the desert sky with a tropical radiance unseen in 
 western lands. In another half-hour the darkness of 
 Egypt would be upon them. The great search-light, 
 slung half-way up the vessel's foremast, was already 
 lighted. 
 
 *' Did you ever see anything so wonderful as that 
 heavenly sunset?" asked Margaret enthusiastically. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON ^' 21 
 
 ** I have read that Ceylon is particularly noted for 
 its extraordinarily beautiful sunset effects. If it pro- 
 vides us with as good as this we shall certainly not 
 have journeyed in vain." 
 
 "Ripping!" exclaimed Mallory. *' But come 
 along up in the bows and see the searchlight 
 spread itself over the desert. It will be dark in a 
 moment." 
 
 " What an awful country for the wretched Children 
 of Israel to manoeuvre in for forty years!" said 
 Desmond. " I wonder what they would have thought 
 of our searchlight prying into their camps Look! 
 We already appear like some monster wuth a fiery 
 eye searching for plunder." 
 
 *' Come on, Mr. Cleeve," cried Cicely excitedly. 
 "It is already quite dark. Mr. Mallory can lecture 
 to us upon the history of the desert." 
 
 Mallory, who had hoped for a tete-a-tete conversa^ 
 tion with Cicely in the bows, grunted. The girl 
 laughed softly, and he caught a mischievous gleam 
 from beneath her lashes. Her subtle elusiveness was 
 continually douching his too ardent attentions, but 
 that very insecurity of his relationship to her was in 
 itself enough to lead him onwards with increased 
 effort after every rebuff. 
 
 " Of course I can," he cried. " I read it up yester- 
 day. The place where the Israelites crossed is after 
 we get out of the canal, in the Gulf of Suez. There's 
 a place there called ' Moses' Wells '—where Moses 
 hit the rock, you know." 
 
 "Well done !" laughed Cicely. "Your father 
 will indeed be proud of you if you advance at this 
 rate. You must keep it up; and then we can ask 
 questions all day long." 
 
22 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 '•I should like you to ask me questions all day 
 long," he whispered. 
 
 *' Oh, would you? Well, we'll see. I assure you 
 I am very inquisitive." 
 
 It was a wondrous sight as they reached the fore- 
 castle. The semi-tropical evening had suddenly 
 succumbed to the darkness of blackest night. The 
 great white streak of the electric searchlight illumined 
 the canal and caught in its embrace, here and there, 
 a little oasis or tying-up station. The unexpected- 
 ness of what might be coming next reminded them 
 of a child's first experiences ot a magic lantern. The 
 advance guard of the wonders of that great Eastern 
 play for which they had booked seats was at hand. 
 The overture had already begun. 
 
 It was long after midnight before they could tear 
 themselves away from the deck, and it was still some 
 time before breakfast when Margaret and Cicely, arm- 
 in-arm, emerged from the saloon again. 
 
 Suez was reached before noon. Only then did they 
 settle down once more in their deck chairs to resume 
 the ordinary daily routine of monotony, four days of 
 which must be undergone before that dreadful Red 
 vSea could be left astern. 
 
 The conditions of shipboard life had, however, 
 suddenly changed in many ways. The soothing 
 swish of the punkahs at meals was very comforting; 
 the white uniforms of the ship's officers had replaced 
 the usual sombre blue; the heat grew momentarily 
 greater; the midnight hours found the decks covered 
 with mattresses and their sleeping occupants; the 
 consumption of lemons and ice became unbelievable. 
 
 The ship remained at Aden only a couple of hours, 
 but even that little break was welcome. Mallory 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 23 
 
 expended a small fortune in throwing coins to the 
 Arab diving boys. Margaret and Cicely, in their 
 most diaphanous white frocks, watched the divers, 
 and bargained for ostrich feathers with the occupants 
 of the Arab boats. Everything was new to them, and 
 many a blas6 traveller listened to their enthusiastic 
 comments with envy. 
 
 After leaving Aden, the weather grew somewhat 
 cooler. The wind, which had been on the ship's 
 quarter, veered ahead. The sea was almost as calm 
 as a sheet of glass. A pair of porpoises, rushing 
 round and round the great ship at night through the 
 phosphorescent water, resembled the flight of gigantic 
 rockets. Never could imagination have pictured 
 more indescribable phosphorescent effects than were 
 seen on those moonless nights on the Indian Ocean. 
 
 The days wore on in never-varying sequence until 
 it seemed as if the old English home life must be 
 but the dream of some disordered imagination. That 
 any other life than the present could ever have been 
 theirs, or was ever likely to be theirs, seemed but an 
 idle thought. The luxurious days of absolute free- 
 dom from care soothed them into mental and physical 
 inertia. The spell of the East had already begun to 
 eat into their very hearts. They were in no hurry 
 to reach their destination. Jack Mallory, for one, 
 began to wish that they never would reach it. What 
 was to happen to him if the others packed up and 
 bid him ** good-bye^' at Colombo he dared not pause 
 to think. 
 
 But everything comes to an end at last. The final 
 night on the Indian Ocean came only too soon. At 
 dinner, the captain announced that they would be in 
 Colombo harbour before noon next day. Mallory 
 
24 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 glanced at Cicely, and his heart sank. But the tides 
 of a single individual's affairs cannot make the world 
 stand still. 
 
 When morning broke, the vessel was rapidly run- 
 ning down the coast of Ceylon. The coastline, 
 sandy-beached and begirt with cocoanut palms and 
 palmyras as far as the eye could reach, was close on 
 the port bow. An endless line of surf rolled up from 
 the open ocean to the very feet of the palms. An 
 odour of vegetation, aromatically redolent of the 
 jungle, was wafted seawards. Ceylon, with all its 
 wealth of flora, its pearls and amethysts, its rubber 
 and tea estates, and its world-famed ruins, was almost 
 within a stone's throw. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 " I HOPE Gordon got my letter, and will be here to 
 meet us," said Desmond. 
 
 The ship's anchor chains were rattling through the 
 hawse holes. As she swung round to the tide the 
 agent's boat was already at the gangway. The 
 harbour, filled with shipping of all nationalities, pre- 
 sented a characteristically picturesque scene. Outside 
 the artificial harbour the surf beat powerlessly upon 
 the great stone breakwater, but within, all was peace. 
 
 The Cleeves, with Cicely and Mallory, leaned over 
 the rail watching the innumerable shore-boats 
 clamouring for fares. 
 
 Suddenly Desmond felt himself clapped upon the 
 shoulder. He turned, to find a tall, dark, clean- 
 shaven man holding out his hand. 
 
 '' You are Desmond Cleeve, of course? " said the 
 latter. ** Although it is so many years since I have 
 seen you, you couldn't be anybody else, I am sure." 
 
 "Gordon, by Jove! There is certainly no mis- 
 taking you, either," cried Desmond, seizing his hand 
 heartily. ** You are not the slim youth I once knew, 
 but there is no mistaking your eyes, old fellow. Let 
 me introduce you to my sister, and " 
 
 " I think it is my duty to introduce myself," inter- 
 rupted Cicely, gaily, her eyes dancing with delight, 
 " as a dutiful niece should." 
 
 "Oh, and so this is little Cicely, is it?" replied 
 Gordon, taking her hand with evident embarrassment. 
 
 " Little, indeed! " exclaimed Cicely. 
 
 25 
 
26 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 Gordon, still holding her hand as if he didn't quite 
 know what to do with such a soft member, broke into 
 a characteristic chuckle. 
 
 " Ah, I see I shall have to alter my ideas some- 
 what, now that. I find myself the uncle of a real 
 grown-up young beauty." 
 
 "^ Oh," gasped Cicely, blushing. Then, with sus- 
 picious mirth curling her lips, she looked Gordon 
 slowly up and down. " Don't you think you might 
 — er — venture to kiss the— er — beauty?" she asked 
 demurely. 
 
 " I am afraid I have almost forgotten how," he 
 laughed, barely touching her cheek with his lips. 
 
 " Now that we have been properly settled, Uncle 
 Gerald, I think we might take a little notice of Mr. 
 Mallory, who, I know, is longing to meet you. He 
 is a friend of ours," said Cicely. 
 
 Mallory seized, with the vigour of a young giant, 
 the hand stretched out to him. Now that the possi- 
 bility of leaving Cicely seemed imminent, he could 
 afford to lose no opportunity which might lead to 
 further concessions. 
 
 *' Well, then," said Gordon, '* now that we are all 
 acquainted, I see no need to remain on this stuffy 
 ship. I have already booked rooms at the Galle Face 
 Hotel for to-night, and we may as well get along 
 there at once, and have tiffin in peace. The luggage 
 can follow." 
 
 " May I come, too, Miss Cleeve? " asked Mallory, 
 plaintively. 
 
 " Why, of course," cried Margaret, smiling. " To 
 drop us at the first opportunity would be most 
 impolite." 
 
 Mallory needed no second bidding. In another 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 27 
 
 moment, in the exuberance of his recovered equilib- 
 rium, he had rushed down the gangway and gained 
 possession of a boat. 
 
 The distance to the landing-stage was not half-a- 
 mile, and at the entrance to the jetty a long string of 
 rickshaws was lined up. Under Gordon's guidance 
 they captured five of these. The* novelty of being 
 drawn along by coolies through the soft, seductive^ 
 atmosphere elicited delighted comments from all, and 
 with a cry of delight Cicely climbed into hers at once. 
 
 At a sharp run they were 'drawn past lines of native 
 shops up the main street, past Government House, 
 and out upon the open esplanade fronting the sea. 
 The long straight road of brick-red earth ran parallel 
 with the beach, where the great rollers of the Indian 
 Ocean thundered upon the sands. 
 
 Mallory challenged Cicely to a race, whereupon the 
 latter's coolie, with his lighter load, forged so fast 
 ahead, \Vith long, swinging strides, that the heavier 
 Mallory had no chance. 
 
 The vestibule of the hotel at the far end of this 
 road was filled with people. The Cingalese waiters, 
 flitting to and fro in their white clothes, their black, 
 glossy hair in topknots, and wearing tortoiseshell 
 combs, seemed strangely weird. 
 
 Whilst the ladies went to their rooms, the three 
 men repaired to the bar, where Gordon ordered three 
 of his favourite Manhattan cocktails. Within a few 
 minutes, under the genial influence of this delectable 
 refreshment, Mallory had so ingratiated himself with 
 Gordon that the latter, there and then, invited him to 
 join the others in their visit to his estate. 
 
 Gordon had already reserved a tififin table on the 
 verandah under an electric fan. The lunch was 
 
28 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 good; the long iced drinks were better; the ocean 
 rolled in almost at their feet ; a soft, languorous breeze 
 blew shorewards. Under the mellowing influence of 
 coffee and cigarettes Gordon listened to the descrip- 
 tion of their voyage, and unfolded his own plans for 
 their future movements. 
 
 "There is no use in remaining in the stuffy heat 
 of Colombo," he said. '* I can show you all you 
 would wish to see here by to-morrow. We had better 
 go up-country by the night mail to-morrow. My 
 motor car will meet us at Nanuoya, and we will go 
 straight off to my bungalow, which is only about four 
 miles from there. I am only a lone bachelor, but I 
 hope you will be comfortable enough for a few days. 
 When you become tired of resting, I have arranged 
 a motor trip for you. I think you will like that." 
 He chuckled and turned to Cicely. *' My hig niece 
 here will have to be my chaperone." 
 
 "Oh, I'll look after you all right!" cried Cicely, 
 her blue eyes dancing with merriment. 
 
 " Humph ! And I expect I shall have to look after 
 you, too. By the way, there is usually a dance at 
 this hotel on Saturday nights." 
 
 " Oh, how delightful ! " exclaimed Cicely. " That 
 is to-night. Will you dance with me. Uncle 
 Gerald?" 
 
 " We'll see," replied Gordon, smiling. " I expect 
 lots of other people will be able to take my place, in 
 any case. I know heaps of young soldier officers and 
 naval men who generally turn up on these occasions." 
 
 •' Oh, what fun! " 
 
 "Humph!" grunted Gordon with amusement. 
 " We will see. As your severe uncle I must take 
 care that you are not spoiled," 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 29 
 
 "Pouf!" cried Cicely, with a trill of laughter. 
 *' It is good for girls to be spoiled. They should 
 have everything that they want, and it is the duty of 
 uncles to see that they get it — always.'' 
 
 Desmond, quietly smoking a cigarette, broke into 
 a gentle chuckle. Cicely's heightened colour, her 
 merry, dancing eyes, and the poise of her youthful, 
 lissom figure presented an entrancing picture. He 
 caught her glance, and she could not have failed to 
 see the approval in his eyes. 
 
 ''You will dance with me, anyway, won't you, Mr. 
 Cleeve? " she asked, alluringly.- 
 
 " Yes," answered Desmond simply, " I will." 
 
 " Well then, ladies all, I should advise you now 
 to take a rest. About five o'clock, when the sun has 
 dropped a bit, I will take you to see the residential 
 part of Colombo. We can end up at Princes Club, 
 where the local aristocracy generally foregather of an 
 evening." 
 
 At the appointed time they were quite ready. It 
 had grown much cooler, but rickshaws were again in 
 demand. 
 
 The long red roads wound between miles of private 
 compounds. The luxuriance of the tropical foliage; 
 the beautiful Indian gold-mohur trees, whose gorge- 
 ous flamboyant flowers met the eye at every turn ; 
 purple bourgainvillia climbing porches of bungalows; 
 the capacious bungalows themselves, some of them 
 creeper-clad ; here and there a giant banyan tree with 
 hanging roots seeking a grasp upon the warm earth ; 
 all combined to cheat the senses, still unattuned to 
 Eastern life, into a simulation of unreality. Neither 
 Margaret nor Cicely would have been surprised at any 
 moment to wake up and find that it was all a dream^ 
 
30 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 Ihe cool, green lawn at Princes Club was very 
 soothing after the heat of the day. Men, in riding- 
 kit, fresh from polo, tennis players, and ladies in the 
 latest London frocks gossiped and drank around the 
 little tables. 
 
 Gordon led off Jack Mallory to introduce him to 
 some kindred spirits inside the large white building, 
 from which the click of billiard balls resounded. The 
 others were quite content to sit and watch the world 
 go round as it willed. In fact, they refused to move 
 until it was time to return to the hotel. 
 
 Dinner at the hotel was barely over when the band 
 of an Indian regiment began to play on the verandah. 
 A large hall was cleared for dancing. Not only w^ere 
 the occupants of the hotel present, but many parties 
 of Colombo residents either dined there for the sake 
 of the dance, or came in later. 
 
 Gordon seemed to know everyone. Whilst Cicely 
 was still in the throes of withstanding Mallory's ex- 
 cessive demands for dances, Gordon was assailed by 
 a couple of young officers of the garrison for an intro- 
 duction to his niece. Two or three enthusiastic naval 
 officers followed. These, having secured the promise 
 of dances for themselves, were not slow in leading 
 forward their friends. In a few moments Cicely 
 could have filled her programme three times over. 
 Jack Mallory, who had to content himself with two 
 waltzes only, had suddenly succumbed to gloom. A 
 subaltern, hailing from his own emerald isle, invited 
 him to drink. The open admiration of the former for 
 Cicely was quite enough, however, to spoil Jack's 
 enjoyment of his society. 
 
 The night was desperately hot for dancing, but 
 nobody seemed to mind it. Gordon, with Margaret 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 3Y 
 
 on his arm, had already entered the ball-room before 
 Cicely could escape from her little coterie of 
 worshippers. Desmond had held her to her promise 
 to dance the first dance with him. Cicely had never 
 danced with him before. She had, in fact, never 
 associated him in her mind with a ball-room. Her 
 eyes opened with surprise, however, as he piloted her 
 down the crowded room. His skill was a revelation 
 to her. 
 
 It was a delicious dance. The dreamy waltz — " A 
 Thousand Kisses " — was over all too soon. The girl 
 had not had many opportunities of dancing since she 
 left school. The whole atmosphere of this tropical 
 night held her enthralled. As Desmond and she 
 sought the coolness of the garden of the hotel, many 
 eyes watched them admiringly. Despite the heat. 
 Cicely had never looked better. She was dressed in 
 her smartest frock, of pale green satin, short in the 
 skirt and covered with a tunic of blue-shot ninon 
 trimmed with pearls. 
 
 Outside in the garden half a dozen great cocoanut 
 trees hung over the ocean, amongst the branches of 
 which sparkled little coloured electric lamps ; the roll 
 of the white surf upon the beach sounded very cool 
 after the heated ball-room ; the moon shone brilliantly. 
 
 Desmond was unusually silent, but Cicely did not 
 seem to notice. She seemed to feel the spirit of 
 absolute content within her. The band had already 
 played half the next waltz before she awoke to the 
 'fact that Mallory, whose dance it was, was standing 
 at her elbow. 
 
 On Sunday morning the whole party w^ent to the 
 military church. Then, in a hired motor, Gordon 
 drove them to Mount Lavinia. This famous hotel, 
 
 I 
 
32 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 overlooking the sea from a rocky promontory, seven 
 miles from Colombo, was crowded with visitors by 
 the time they arrived. Gordon explained that the 
 Mount Lavinia Sunday fish tifBn, as a feature of 
 Ceylon, must be undergone, whether they hungered 
 or not. He had already reserved a table. 
 
 It was a gay luncheon, and never before had 
 Gordon's guests seen so many varieties of fish served 
 at one time. Oysters, crabs, whitebait, seer, &c., 
 followed in what seemed a never-ending march. 
 They cried quits at last, and repaired to the plateau 
 outside, from where a clear seven miles of sandy 
 beach, fringed by dense cocoanut plantations, could 
 be seen spreading out between them and Colombo. 
 Several catamaran fishing-boats arrived as they sat 
 in chairs, watching. The natives, almost naked, 
 rushed into the surf and dragged in the boats. The 
 catch had not been particularly good, but several seer 
 of quite forty pounds each were thrown out upon the 
 sand. 
 
 They idled away the afternoon until tea-time. Jack 
 IMallory was happy again. The prospect of having 
 Cicely all to himself once more as soon as they 
 reached up-country was alluring. He had not 
 enjoyed the dance of the night before at all. And 
 even to-day Cicely was unusually irresponsive. The 
 influence of Colombo, in Jack's opinion, was not good 
 for her. 
 
 The rush back to Colombo in the motor was delight- 
 ful. The train for up-country did not start until ten 
 o'clock. They had dinner comfortably at the hotel, 
 and drove in rickshaws, with plenty of time to spare, 
 to Maradana station. 
 
 Margaret and Cicely were quite pleased with their 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 33 
 
 two-berthed sleeping compartment, and made them- 
 selves comfortable at once. The beds looked inviting, 
 and they were already sleepy. 
 
 Gordon piloted the men into the gentlemen's com- 
 partment and ordered whisky and soda. Then he 
 returned to the platform and the ladies' end of the 
 car, and for a few moments watched Margaret Cleeve 
 arranging her luggage. As she smoothed her fair 
 hair before the little mirror, the womanly softness in 
 her grey eyes seemed to Gordon very good to look 
 upon. 
 
 " I hope you have everything you want," he said 
 presently. ** Remember that you are to keep your 
 eyes open for a station called ' Talawakele.' It is a 
 fiendish name to English eyes, like most others in 
 Ceylon, but you will see it on the station board plainly 
 enough. It will be about six o'clock then, and time 
 to dress. We reach Nanuoya about an hour later." 
 
 " All right," answered Margaret. "I'll remember. 
 This is a delightful little sleeping carriage." 
 
 '* Well then, I'll wish you ' good night.' Be good, 
 Cicely!" 
 
 '' Perhaps — Vn see," cried Cicely flippantly. 
 "There goes the whistle! You'll be left behind, if 
 you don't run." 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 An indescribable glow of crimsoned tints irradiated 
 the heavens. A filmy cloud of fire hung about a 
 conical mountain on the distant skyline. The sun 
 had already disappeared behind a line of purple hills 
 bounding the horizon. The air was soft and balmy 
 like an English early autumn. 
 
 A couple of small tables, laden with silver, tea-cups 
 and sandwiches, stood upon a plateau in front of a 
 brown wooden bungalow. Stone steps leading to a 
 winding path below disappeared behind a rockery, 
 amongst which maidenhair ferns flourished in wild 
 profusion. The perfume of heliotrope was wafted 
 from a broad flower-bed encircling the front of the 
 house. A bed of violets lay beyond the rockery. 
 There were roses, white and yellow and red, in fullest 
 bloom, and a monkey-puzzler tree rustled its branches 
 drowsily in the evening breeze. 
 
 As far almost as the eye could reach, down to a 
 roaring stream in the valley below and up again on 
 the other side, was the never-ending greenness of 
 tea bushes. Here and there a row of albizzia trees, 
 planted to shade the tea, stood forth like sentinels 
 over their charges. The path from the bungalow, 
 brown and rocky, wound its way, zig-zag, down the 
 hill, until it lost itself beneath the shadow of a red- 
 walled tea factory, three hundred feet below. A gang 
 of coolie women, each laden with a long narrow 
 basket upon her back, filed silently through the 
 greenness towards the factory. 
 
 .34 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 35 
 
 The stillness was broken by a whistling noise to 
 the left. Suddenly a bundle of wood, tied to a run- 
 ning wheel, shot down a wire rope from a hill above 
 the bungalow. 
 
 " There goes the last consignment of firewood from 
 the clearing," saV Gordon. ''That wire shoot is 
 nearly a mile long. 
 
 Margaret lazily tun er eyes upwards. " I think 
 that the peace of this ace is perfectly heavenly," 
 she remarked. "And just do look at those orange 
 tints above that mountain peak ! The Egyptian sun- 
 set over the desert was good enough for ordinary 
 mortals, but this, to-night, is an epicurean feast." 
 
 " That conical point is Adam's peak," said Gordon. 
 " It is a most holy place in the eyes of the Buddhists. 
 They make pilgrimages to a temple at the top, where 
 the imprint of Buddha's foot is said to be. He 
 touched the place with his foot as he flew skywards 
 away from Ceylon to India." 
 
 " How foolish of him to go! " murmured Cicely. 
 Desmond, silently smoking a pipe, sat listening in 
 a long armchair. Jack Mallory, reclining at Cicely's 
 feet, was meditatively chewing a blade of grass. The 
 latter, her hands idle in her lap, appeared to be 
 studying the landscape. 
 
 Suddenly Cicely sprang to her feet. 
 " Don't you think it is time we had our tea. Uncle 
 Gerald?" she asked. ** As your only hostess, it is 
 time that I bestirred myself. I am sure that you 
 badly need a sensible woman to look after you." 
 
 " Sensible woman I " exclaimed Gordon facetiously. 
 "Help!" 
 
 ** Don't be rude! Come along, Mr. Mallory, and 
 pass these sandwiches." 
 
36 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 Jack was up in a moment. That long day, practic- 
 ally alone with Cicely, had been Paradise to him. 
 Since their first arrival in the motor that morning the 
 hours had slipped by in one happy whirl. As self- 
 constituted chatelaine of her uncle's domain, Cicely 
 had blossomed forth in a light which he had never 
 seen before. He had never known her in her own 
 home. As she now stood at the tea-table and poured 
 out the tea, he watched her with increasing interest. 
 She had never looked daintier or more desirable. 
 Dressed in a simple green frock, with a short skirt 
 and sleeves reaching just below the elbow, black 
 buckled shoes, and black stockings, she seemed even 
 more youthful than she was. With her dark hair and 
 blue eyes she might have been meant in her present 
 costume to represent the embodiment of the maiden 
 grace of Ireland. 
 
 Desmond Cleeve, as he smoked, was watch- 
 ing her furtively almost without his own knowledge. 
 Gerald Gordon, smiling affectionately at her, 
 wondered why he had been such a fool as never 
 to have married. Presently he screwed up his 
 countenance critically, and broke into a soft chuckle 
 of laughter. 
 
 ** May I ask whether you are wearing green in 
 honour of Mr. Mallory? " he inquired. 
 
 "Mr. Mallory, indeed!" exclaimed Cicely indig- 
 nantly. *' You forget that I am as much Irish as 
 anything else. And, in any case, I had the trouble 
 of making the frock myself, so I may as well get some 
 work out of it." 
 
 "You never made it yourself," cried Gordon, 
 unbelievingly. 
 
 " I did — truly. You are very rude. You don't 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 37 
 
 know me one bit yet. There are lots of clever things 
 I can do." 
 
 *' Oh, indeed! For instance ? " 
 
 Cicely's eyes filled with laughter, and the corners of 
 her mouth lifted mischievously. She glanced up 
 from beneath her lashes with challenging impudence. 
 "You wait," she murmured. '* It isn't for men — 
 even uncles — to know too much all at once." 
 
 A silent-footed Tamil servant, carrying a plate of 
 tea-cakes, approached from the house. He was an old 
 man, showing the greyness of his hair below an 
 enormous red turban. He departed as silently as he 
 had come. 
 
 " Why doesn't the old man wear a comb like the 
 servants at the Colombo hotel? " asked Margaret. 
 
 '* It is only the Cingalese who wear combs," 
 explained Gordon. " The native inhabitants of 
 Ceylon are mostly of two races only, which, centuries 
 ago, were always at war. Then, besides these Tamils 
 and Cingalese, there are the Burghers, who are 
 descended from the old original Dutch settlers. 
 David professes to be a Christian. He has been with 
 me for nearly twenty years. When I came out here 
 as a lad of twenty he was the best legacy that my 
 predecessor could have given me.'* 
 
 '* Did you like it when you first came out? " asked 
 Desmond. 
 
 " I didn't mind it. There was plenty of hard work. 
 For nine months I served an old-established planter 
 in the capacity of a student — commonly known as a 
 •creeper.' I had to learn Tamil. All the coolie 
 labour force are Tamils. I had to climb hills all day, 
 watching the pluckers, superintending the pruners, 
 and learning to handle the coolies. Then there was 
 
38 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 the tea-making in the factory, and the keeping of the 
 estate accounts to learn. I hadn't much time to think 
 in those days, nor had I much money either." 
 
 " Wasn't it lonely when you first started to live 
 alone? " asked Mallory. 
 
 " Very, Especially during the rains. When the 
 monsoon beats down on that old roof there for days 
 and weeks on end, night and day, it takes a bit of 
 getting used to. I don't think I could have stuck it 
 as a mere employee for always. Fortunately I was 
 left a legacy. I bought some new land here, and 
 opened it up. I was very lucky, and prospered. 
 Then I bought a share in a rubber place in the low 
 country. Rubber boomed, and I was again lucky. I 
 am used to the place now." He glanced with uncon- 
 scious affection across the valley, and paused to light 
 a cigarette. " Now, as the owner of about five 
 hundred acres of tea, I have become an established 
 landmark, I suppose. It is still sometimes lonely, all 
 the same. There are neighbours, of course, and 
 sometimes people pay me visits. But it is at a time 
 like this, when ladies deign to visit my poor domain, 
 that I realise how lonely one really is between whiles." 
 
 ** What you want. Uncle Gerald, is a really nice 
 wife," intervened Cicely, nodding her head thought- 
 fully. " I must see to it." 
 
 Gordon laughed softly. ** And so the romance of 
 the jungle is already calling to you, hey? As a 
 practical measure, however, I think we had better 
 retire to the bungalow. We are only 4,500 feet up, 
 but it will be quite cold in another half-hour." 
 
 When the gong rang for dinner, there was a bright 
 fire of logs burning in the drawing-room. It was a 
 pleasant room, with two bow windows, from which 
 
CICELY IK CEYLON 39 
 
 the view by daylight was superb. With the curtains 
 drawn, and the English furniture and rugs, there was 
 practically nothing to distinguish it from England. 
 It was a bachelor's room, and yet there was an air of 
 refinement about it almost feminine. The pictures, 
 the silver bowls and vases filled with flowers, and the 
 presence of a piano added to this effect. There were 
 heaps of the latest books and magazines, and many 
 comfortable chintz-covered chairs. 
 
 Dinner on that first night was a cheerful meal. 
 After the heat of Colombo the sudden change to 
 almost English life was very pleasant. The Tamil 
 servants were adept waiters, and the cook had done his 
 best. After dinner the men remained to smoke, but 
 Margaret and Cicely were easily lured by the thought 
 of those luxurious chairs and crackling fire into the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 Presently, the soothing notes of Schubert's "Adieu " 
 floated lingeringly across the hall. The men auto- 
 matically ceased talking to listen. Jack Mallory 
 slipped away in search of Cicely. Margaret was at 
 the piano. Cicely, daintily recumbent in a chair 
 several sizes too large for her, stretched her feet 
 towards the fire. 
 
 "Come and look at the glorious night," urged 
 Jack. 
 
 "I am very comfy here, thanks," replied Cicely, 
 smiling. " You may sit down here, though, if you 
 like. Do you want to talk? " 
 
 " Yes," whispered Jack softly, drawing up a chair. 
 
 Margaret played on unheedingly. She had a more 
 than ordinarily sympathetic touch, and had been well 
 taught. A melody which Mallory had never heard 
 before drifted dreamily through the room. 
 
40 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 Cicely was idly watching the antics of a minute 
 lizard which, ensconced behind a lamp upon the wall, 
 caught flies almost as big as himself and gulped them 
 down until his little body swelled like a drum. 
 
 '' Well, go on ! " she said indifferently. '' Talk ! " 
 
 " Humph! " he grunted. 
 
 Cicely flashed a glance at him out of the corners of 
 her laughing eyes, and then continued to study the 
 toe of her slipper. 
 
 ** I think a planter's life must be very jolly, don't 
 you? " ventured Jack. 
 
 " It depends," she admitted slowly. " Isn't Uncle 
 Gerald nice? " 
 
 ''Rather!" exclaimed Mallory enthusiastically. 
 " Did you know that he had invited me to join your 
 motor trip? " 
 
 He watched the girl's downcast eyes anxiously, but 
 her long lashes did not move. For a moment there 
 was silence. 
 
 " Shall I accept? " he asked presently. " He says 
 the car will hold five comfortably." 
 
 "Well, then, why hesitate?" she inquired, 
 glancing upwards in well-feigned surprise. 
 
 " But would you like me to? " he asked, bending 
 over her chair. 
 
 " Why, of course, if you care to come. Besides, it 
 is good for boys to see the world." 
 
 "Oh! Boy indeed! I'm four years older than 
 you, anyway." 
 
 Cicely sniffed audibly. " I shouldn't have thought 
 it," she said. 
 
 Jack's brain was working slowly. The near 
 presence of Cicely invariably seemed to have that 
 effect upon him. Certainly his four years' seniority 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 41 
 
 had, so far, given him no advantage over her. He 
 nerved himself for some desperate effort. To accom- 
 plish some deed of valour for her sake would have 
 been easy, but his attempts at sentiment met with a 
 patronising tolerance which was maddening. 
 
 Margaret feelingly played Beethoven's " Farewell 
 to the piano." Gordon, afraid of disturbing her, 
 stepped quietly into the room, and slipped into a chair 
 by her side. As she sat at the piano, the soul of the 
 music in her eyes, he watched her fingers caressing 
 the keys, and wondered. Dressed in a black frock of 
 some diaphanous material which accentuated the 
 whiteness of her skin, her abundant chestnut hair 
 shining in the lamplight, she appealed to him with 
 a force that a week before he would have believed 
 impossible. As she finished, she half-turned, and her 
 eyes met his. He had not spoken one word, but what 
 she saw caused her cheeks to flush, and her fingers 
 again fell quickly upon the keys. 
 
 '• Where is Mr. Cleeve? " called Cicely. 
 
 " Smoking in the hall, I believe," answered Gordon. 
 
 '* What a misanthrope! I'll go and rout him out." 
 
 Mallory groaned aloud. The girl uncurled from 
 her chair, stretched herself to her full height, presented 
 Jack with a parting glance of mischievous mirth, and 
 ran out into the passage. 
 
 The hall was really a spacious room where long 
 lounge chairs invited repose. But Desmond was not 
 asleep. From where he sat he could easily hear the 
 voices in the drawing-room. His pipe glowed in the 
 semi-darkness. He turned his head suddenly as the 
 swish of Cicely's skirt and the click of heels upon the 
 polished wooden floor reached him. 
 
 ** I am coming to talk to you. May I ? " she asked. 
 
42 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 Desmond sprang up and offered her a chair. 
 
 ** What have I done to be so specially honoured? " 
 he inquired. ** I hope you and Mallory haven't 
 quarrelled? " 
 
 " Oh dear no. Mr. Mallory and I don't quarrel. 
 It is sometimes necessary for me to snub him gently, 
 but snubbing is good for boys." 
 
 " I am afraid it is so long since I was one that I 
 cannot remember," said Desmond slowly. *' I have 
 had so much anxiety during the last year that it seems 
 a century since I was a boy." 
 
 Cicely studied her toes for quite a minute. Then 
 she glanced for an instant at the motionless figure in 
 the chair beside her. His expression told her nothing. 
 
 ** Do you know," she said irrelevantly, " that I shall 
 be a woman in three months? " 
 
 " Oh ! Do you mean twenty-one ? " 
 
 "Yes. I am getting quite old," she answered, 
 sagely nodding her head. 
 
 "Humph!" 
 
 " Why do you grunt like that ? Don't you think I 
 am getting old? " 
 
 The expression in Desmond's grey eyes softened, 
 but his clean-shaven mouth moved not a muscle. 
 Cicely, her chin upon her hands, and her elbows on the 
 arms of the chair, waited expectantly. Her slim 
 figure, silhouetted in the dim light, certainly did not 
 speak of growing age. 
 
 " Answer me, please," she said presently. " Don't 
 you think I am older than my age? Do you think — ? " 
 
 Suddenly and unexpectedly Desmond took his pipe 
 out of his mouth and leaned nearer the girl. " Would 
 you really like to know what I think of you?" he 
 interrupted. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 43 
 
 Cicely's hands dropped, and her pensive attitude 
 fled before genuine astonishment. A certain unknown 
 tone in Desmond's voice arrested her. She glanced 
 quickly and curiously at his face. For some 
 inexplicable reason her heart beat most uncomfortably. 
 For a few moments neither of them spoke. Then 
 Desmond's pipe again began to glow. 
 
 " I don't think," he said, weighing his words, 
 " that it would be interesting to you, or — good for me 
 if I told you. I wonder how much you know of 
 yourself yet." 
 
 ** Come along Cicely," called Margaret's voice from 
 the drawing room, *' Don't you think that we ought 
 to go to bed? " 
 
 " Good night," said Desmond softly. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 The next morning broke with a cloudless sky. Long 
 before the others had been roused by the arrival of 
 their early tea Gordon had left the bungalow. David 
 stated that * master ' had gone to the factory. It was, 
 however, still quite early when Margaret and Cicely 
 emerged. 
 
 " Come on, all of you," cried Cicely gaily, " we will 
 go and see him in his den. I know the way to the 
 factory." 
 
 Down the winding path she ran. A heavy dew was 
 still upon the grass. Out upon the surrounding hills 
 of tea bushes the gangs of coolies, some of them but 
 (^Hildren, could be seen steadily plucking the young 
 green shoots, and throwing them over their shoulders 
 into the baskets slung upon their backs. Here and 
 there a baby, generally absolutely innocent of clothes, 
 played in the vicinity. Passing down the path, they 
 came upon a long line of mud-walled huts, about 
 which played innumerable naked children. Lower 
 down still, the red roof of the factory shewed up 
 brilliantly against the green foliage of the gum trees. 
 
 At the factory door they were met by a native in 
 European clothes, who said he was the ' tea maker.' 
 He sent a coolie to fetch Gordon. 
 
 The latter, in riding breeches and putties, and 
 wearing the conventional double Terai hat of 
 the planter, hurried towards them. A powerful 
 aromatic odour of warm tea permeated the place. 
 
 44 
 
I 
 
 CICELY IN CEYLON 45 
 
 There was a hum of machinery, with the half-naked 
 figures of coolies flitting hither and thither. Escorted 
 by Gordon, they climbed a wooden stairway to the 
 upper storey of the building. Here, long strips of 
 sacking cloth, covered with drying green tea-leaves, 
 were stretched across the room. It was here that the 
 fresh leaf remained until a certain proportion of its 
 moisture evaporated in the heated air. There was no 
 machinery whatever in this room. 
 
 Down below was the engine, but, with plenty of 
 water on hand, as was the case at that time of year, 
 the great wheel which controlled the simple machinery 
 could be easily run by water power from the stream 
 pouring down the hillside. In the time of drought, 
 the engine, fed by wood or oil fuel, had to be used. 
 
 Curious rotatory metal platforms whirled the tea 
 about and rolled it. Large sifters, composed of 
 several layers of different-sized wire mesh, shook from 
 side to side with their load of tea, thus separating the 
 coarse from the fine. The last remaining dust, almost 
 brick-colored, was valuable, as Gordon explained, for 
 the manufacture of tea bricks, and brought an 
 excellent price in the Russian market. 
 
 Heaps of tea lay about on white cloths spread upon 
 the stone floor. Upon these the coolies were patiently 
 engaged, picking out odds and ends of sticks and 
 dirt. Stacks of empty white wooden chests, each 
 capable of holding about a hundred pounds of tea, 
 awaited the packers. Two coolies were carefully 
 making square bags out of lead foil. Everything was 
 methodically and carefully done with that Oriental 
 patience of labour which never tires. 
 
 After the warmth of the factory, the air outside 
 seemed quite chilly, for it was still early enough in 
 
46 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 the day for the crispness of the morning to cling to 
 the shadows. 
 
 '• I have jusl been to the motor shed," said Gordon, 
 leading the way down the narrow path. " The car is 
 in excellent trim, and so long as you ladies do not 
 insist upon taking too much baggage, we shall fit in 
 nicely. It is a new 25-horse-power Daimler. I have 
 only had it three months. We have had a specially 
 good year at tea this year, and so I went a burst, and 
 bought a good one while I was about it. I am rather 
 proud of my estate. You see, I planted most of 
 it myself." 
 
 *' What is that bare brown patch over there on the 
 hillside? " asked Margaret, pointing across the valley. 
 
 " Oh, that has just been pruned. One has to cut 
 down the bushes about every two years. The ground 
 is then manured with phosphates, etc., and, except for 
 keeping it weeded, it is left in peace until the new 
 leaves sprout." 
 
 " What an enormous amount of tea you must have," 
 said Cicely. 
 
 " Oh, a tea bush is a deceptive thing. One of these 
 good ones here does not yield in a year more than one 
 quarter pound of the tea as you know it. That means 
 one pound of green leaf. If you watch the pluckers, 
 you will see that they pick only the smallest and 
 freshest leaves. When we have plenty of rain we 
 pluck e^ich bush about once in ten days. We turn 
 our coolie gangs on to a fresh plot every day. The 
 bushes are planted, as you can see, about three feet by 
 six." 
 
 "What about labour?" asked Desmond. *' It 
 must be quite a business looking after an army of 
 coolies like this." 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 47 
 
 ''Well, that is practically our only trouble at 
 present. Still, we cannot grumble too much. ATI 
 the coolies are recruited from the South of India. 
 They pay their fare here on money lent to them by us. 
 We have overseers, called * kanghanis,' who father 
 the coolie gangs. Every coolie is in debt to the estate, 
 and when he leaves an estate he must be provided with 
 a discharge note. Any other estate employing him 
 must take over his debt with him. To crimp labour 
 at the present day is a cardinal sin. No planter of 
 any degree of respectability would attempt it. If a 
 coolie bolts, his description is published in the news- 
 papers." 
 
 " Do they earn much?" asked Desmond. 
 
 '*An averagely good plucker earns about sevenpence 
 a day. It only costs him about five rupees a month 
 for rice, and he is housed by the estate, so that, 
 compared with his brother coolies of India, he is well 
 off. All the rice comes from India— that is why it is 
 so expensive. Ceylon can only supply enough for 
 its own villagers." He pointed towards a hollow 
 several hundred feet below. '' You see that very light 
 green open glade, with the oxen pulling a wooden 
 plough through the mud I That is a paddy, or rice- 
 field, being ploughed for the next crop. Those terraces 
 are for the artificial irrigation, whereby the water flows 
 over the rice downstairs, as it were." 
 
 "How many coolies have you got?" asked 
 Margaret. *' You must be quite a little king." 
 
 "Oh; about five hundred," laughed Gordon. 
 " One requires about one coolie per acre. There is 
 the pruning to be done as well as the plucking, of 
 course, and then there is wood cutting and clearing.'* 
 
 " I think I should like this life immensely," cried 
 
48 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 Mallory enthusiastically. He glanced down at Cicely's 
 white topee, and added : — * 'Under certain conditions." 
 
 " Well, you might do worse," said Gordon, 
 " particularly if you can command some capital. A 
 creeper at the present day doesn't spend more than six 
 months at his creeping. During that time he 
 generally lives in the house of his instructor, to whom 
 he pays a premium of anything from ^50 to ^100, 
 and a small amount for his board. He learns Tamil, 
 and anything else which the planter tells him, and 
 when an opportunity offers, and his teacher's 
 conscience will permit of his being recommended as 
 fit, he gets a billet as a junior assistant. That generally 
 means a small bungalow of his own somewhere on the 
 estate, free firewood, the services of a couple of coolies, 
 and about R125 per month pay. Then, if he is worth 
 his salt, he ought soon to rise to greater things. I 
 am surrounded here by heaps of ex-public school boys, 
 and, here and there, one finds an ex-army or navy 
 officer who prefers peace to everlasting uncertainty. 
 There is plenty of tennis at certain points of 
 rendezvous, and even football and hockey, as you will 
 see later on. We have an excellent little club ground 
 not far from here, where I hope to introduce you on 
 the occasion of our yearly sports. I shall have to give 
 a house party, I expect, so you will have a chance of 
 playing hostess. Cicely." 
 
 " H'm I What does it cost to buy a place of one's 
 own?" asked Mallory, his thoughts flying towards 
 a romantic future. 
 
 " That is not quite easy to answer. You see, it 
 depends upon position and the condition of the estate. 
 Roughly speaking, about ten years' purchase. It 
 runs from about ;^5o to ;^ioo an acre, the high prices 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 49 
 
 being for the up-country estates. You ought to get 
 quite ten per cent, on your outlay, but, of course, 
 when you open out new land and plant it yourself, 
 your ultimate profits upon outlay should be much 
 greater. If you have no capital, it is a poor game as 
 regards money. You can earn up to say ;^5oo or 
 ;^6oo a year after years of toil, and you may even 
 become a visiting agent and make as much as a couple 
 of thousand pounds a year in fees. I wouldn't 
 calculate upon the latter if I were you, though. Some 
 of the estates are now working a pension fund, to 
 which the employees pay 5 per cent, of their salary, 
 and the company an equal amount. I am rather in 
 favour of that." He paused, and his face dropped. 
 " T — er — am afraid I have been very loquacious. I 
 am so interested myself that I forget my audience's 
 different standpoint." 
 
 "I, for one, have enjoyed every word of it," cried 
 Margaret. 
 
 " Of course ! " added Desmond. 
 
 ** It might be made a very nice life indeed," 
 murmured Mallory. 
 
 '* I think we have all earned our breakfast by now, 
 in any case; don't you? " said Gordon, leading the 
 way up the hill. 
 
 Whether they had earned it or not, his guests 
 certainly shewed no sloth in following him. 
 
 A planter's breakfast is of the variety which other 
 people call lunch. The profusion of steaks, chops, 
 cold ham, curries, and what-not upon the table was 
 astonishing. 
 
 *' You planter fellows don't starve! " cried Mallory 
 joyfully. 
 
 **No," laughed Gordon. "Why should we? 
 
50 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 What will you drink? There is tea, claret, beer, 
 whisky, or perhaps — " 
 
 " Mr. Mallory will drink tea, of course ! " intervened 
 Cicely severely. *' Imagine whisky for breakfast! " 
 
 '' Oh ! " ejaculated Mallory, ** I could— quite 
 easily." 
 
 Gordon laughed lightly. " Well? " he asked. 
 
 " Tea, please," answered Jack meekly, glancing at 
 Cicely. 
 
 Old David seemed to be everywhere at once. The 
 inherent instincts of a century of hereditary servitude 
 caused him to anticipate wishes in a manner bordering 
 upon inspiration. 
 
 "That is a remarkably good servant of yours," 
 said Desmond during one of the numerous absences of 
 David en route to the kitchen. 
 
 " Yes, he is a good ' boy.' I have trained him a lot 
 in various ways. In our early days he used to keep 
 all my small pay and run the house for me. Like all 
 native servants who are allowed to absolutely run their 
 masters, his accounts at the end of the month would 
 invariably coincide with every penny I possessed. 
 When he committed a serious fault, I w^ould fine him. 
 That method of punishment, however, I soon dis- 
 covered to be ridiculously ineffective. I would tell 
 him that he was fined one rupee. He w^ould accept 
 my adjudication with resignation. But at the end of 
 that month my bills would come to exactly R301 
 instead of R300. And for the life of me I would be 
 unable to find a flaw in his charges for details of 
 expenditure. Then I struck upon an expedient, which 
 was so effective that in a very short time it did away 
 with all occasion for fining. I used to say, * David, 
 you are fined one rupee. Your pay is fifteen rupees; 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 51 
 
 this month you get only fourteen.' With that I would 
 promptly throw a rupee out into the jungle, or down 
 my well, which was a very deep one. There was then 
 one rupee gone out of the world altogether— David 
 hadn't got it, and ' master ' hadn't got it. There was 
 no possible way of getting it back. Whereupon the 
 wretched David would weep bitter tears." 
 
 At that moment the renowned David appeared on 
 the scene bearing a dish of chipped potatoes. His 
 spotless white garments seemed symbolical of purity, 
 and his great red turban surmounted a visage upon 
 which no shadow of guile had left a mark. Placing 
 himself respectfully behind his master's chair, his face 
 was bland and expressionless. As Desmond Cleeve 
 glanced up at him, he realised that behind those dark 
 eyes lay a depth of Eastern lore and logic which few 
 Western men could ever hope to fathom successfully. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 After a keen foursome at tennis on the brown gravel 
 court behind the bungalow in the afternoon, they were 
 all sufficiently tired to find an early departure to bed 
 most welcome. Nevertheless, Gordon urged them to 
 pack overnight what few things they would need on 
 the motor. The heavier luggage was to go by train. 
 
 It was not more than seven o'clock the next morning 
 when they actually got away. Gordon drove the big 
 car himself, his assistant being a native boy whom he 
 had trained, more or less, to understand the ordinary 
 mechanism of the car. This boy usually sat upon the 
 step. 
 
 Gordon invited Margaret to sit in front, the 
 capacious tonneau easily holding the other three, in 
 addition to guns and rifles, cartridges, and emergency 
 rations, and many other small impedimenta which 
 might be useful for a journey that would lead them 
 into many a deserted road. 
 
 The morning was perfect. The crisp, rarefied air 
 of the hills and the ever-varying scenery were wonder- 
 fully exhilarating. 
 
 Cicely was in delightful spirits. Between her 
 enthusiastic criticisms of the scenery she openly flirted 
 with Mallory. Desmond, as usual, smoked his pipe 
 in comparative silence, but Cicely did not fail to keep 
 his attention occupied. She was dressed in a well- 
 fitting tailor-made blue serge coat and skirt, with a 
 patent leather black waistbelt, which showed off her 
 
 52 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 53 
 
 figure to its best advantage. Blue was Desmond's 
 favourite colour, and he told her so. 
 
 Margaret took her joys with less exuberance than 
 the younger girl, but her happiness was apparent in 
 her eyes. An atmosphere of irresponsibility and 
 joyou^ expectation seemed to leave no room for 
 care. 
 
 The road rose rapidly. It turned and twisted like 
 some gigantic snake wriggling in its death agony. 
 Upon one side it was bounded by high lands, mostly 
 covered with the ever-present tea bushes, whilst, on 
 the left, there was a sudden drop between it and a 
 valley far below, where roared a mountain torrent. 
 On the far horizon stood forth the purple haze of the 
 hills. 
 
 It was only at the particularly dangerous turns that 
 any pretence at stone parapet had been provided. A 
 false turn of the hand upon the steering wheel would 
 have precipitated the car into the depths below. At 
 first Margaret would involuntarily grip the side of the 
 car in alarm, but after a time she learned to place 
 implicit confidence in the steady eye and wrist of her 
 host. The Ceylon roads are not built for novices, but 
 Gordon was not one of these. He took no risks. 
 
 Banks of luxuriant maidenhair ferns spread 
 upwards, here and there, on their right. An occasional 
 red tea factory disclosed itself in the valley. Great 
 country carts, drawn by oxen, upon which the motor 
 horn was used with but little effect, crawled down- 
 wards round the curves. No man on earth can hustle 
 a bull who is determined not to move beyond a walk. 
 There were practically no level bits. Upwards and 
 ever upwards they climbed, until Nanuoya railway 
 station loomed up on the horizon. From that place 
 
54 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 a little narrow-gauge railway mounted by the most 
 curling road that surely any train ever travelled. This 
 was the branch line to the hill station of Nuwara 
 Eliya, which is used as the health resort for the jaded 
 residents of Colombo. 
 
 Here and there a waterfall tumbled picturesquely 
 into the river below. The vegetation began to 
 assume a less tropical appearance. Now and again a 
 characteristic Keena tree rose above its lesser brethren 
 of the jungle. Its extraordinary gnarled trunk, 
 expanding above into a great flat top, and its small 
 brilliant red and green leaves were sufficient to 
 identify it at once. 
 
 The road turned upon itself, and the car shot across 
 a wide bridge. The railroad, thirty feet overhead, 
 looped almost double. A waterfall, throwing clouds 
 of spray into the morning sunlight, fell deafeningly 
 on the right. 
 
 *' Blackpool," explained Gordon laconically. 
 " Another couple of miles, and we shall be in Nuwara 
 Eliya. Most English people, in writing the w^ord, 
 persist in calling it ' Eliza.' " 
 
 In the valley on the left there appeared a tea factory, 
 above which, upon the hillside, spread out an expanse 
 of tea bushes losing itself in the skyline. The road 
 rose rapidly, but suddenly it reached the level, and 
 there before them lay the valley, surrounded by 
 mighty wooded hills, amongst which nestles Nuwara 
 Eliya. 
 
 "Here we are!" said Gordon, turning the car 
 sharply to the left. 
 
 Upon the right was a large expanse of grass land, 
 with a race-stand upon its far side. Behind them, 
 there glistened in the sunlight a small lake. Beside 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 55 
 
 the road ran the grass-grown race-track, an 
 impenetrable hedge of luxuriant gorse, gorgeous in its 
 yellow blossoms, separating them. Here and there, 
 nestling on the hill sides, were seen the red roofs of 
 bungalows. In the far distance were thickly-wooded 
 hills above the tea bushes, and a little river ran 
 placidly in its winding course towards the lake. 
 
 " We have come up about fifteen hundred feet," 
 said Gordon. '' Nuwara Eliya is 6,200, and * Pedro,* 
 that great jungle hill over there, is another 2,000 feet 
 — the highest point in Ceylon." 
 
 At the turn of the road an ugly green building, with 
 several gravel tennis courts and grass croquet lawns 
 surrounding it, caught the eye. *' The United Club," 
 explained Gordon. *' A mixed club where, in the 
 season, the dances are held, and where the ladies can 
 play bridge and tennis, and gossip. The back 
 verandah in the evening is like a beehive. There is 
 a great week here in February when the races are on. 
 It is rather good fun. Most of the Ceylon young 
 women turn up ,and not a few globe-trotters." 
 
 ** I should love to come to that," cried Cicely 
 enthusiastically. 
 
 '' You shall, if you don't run away and leave me 
 before then," replied Gordon. 
 
 As the car suddenly turned again to the left, there 
 opened out another reach of valley, where golf greens, 
 patching the darker grass around them, were dotted 
 here and there about the plain. 
 
 ** Oh, how splendid! " exclaimed Cicely. 
 
 ''This is the best golf course in the East," ex- 
 plained Gordon. '' I will show you some more of it 
 afterwards. Here is the Grand' Hotel and 'break- 
 fast, which, for the moment, we need most. I must 
 
56 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 spend an hour or two here, and then we will push 
 right on to Kandy, which is a much more interesting 
 place than Nuwara Eliya. We ought to get some 
 shooting when we have finished with Kandy. Come 
 along! Who is hungry? " 
 
 Gordon wished to buy some things for their trip at 
 a European shop. There were several in the place, 
 as well as a small native bazaar. After breakfast, 
 therefore, they left the car, and crossed the golf links. 
 ** Queen's Cottage," the hill residence of the Governor, 
 rose up above the tree tops overlooking the links. 
 Up the valley, as far as the eye could reach, stretched 
 a vista of green turf quite as good as in England, 
 intersected by a winding stream. Crossing a bridge, 
 they paused for a moment to watch the players ' put ' 
 at the twelfth hole. 
 
 " I do wish we could have a foursome now," cried 
 Cicely. " I should so like to play up that valley." 
 
 " I am afraid you'll not have time now," answered 
 Gordon. ** We really must push on. We can easily 
 come up from the estate when we return, and have 
 plenty of games." 
 
 The shopping was soon completed, and Gordon 
 hurried them back to the hotel. The road, leading 
 out of the valley over the crest on the skyline, by the 
 Ramboda pass, w^ould take them to Kandy. 
 
 The motor, in charge of the Tamil boy, was quite 
 ready. The latter started the engine, curled himself 
 up on to the footboard, and the car was off. 
 
 For two miles they again climbed upwards. Then, 
 cresting the ridge, the road wound downwards with 
 equal precipitancy. The narrow brown ribband could 
 be traced for miles below, twisting and twining as 
 only Ceylon roads can do. He would need to be a 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 57 
 
 careful driver indeed who faced that Ramboda road on 
 a dark night. The view from the summit was superb. 
 Hill and valley, tea factory and planter's bungalow, 
 river and jungle, spread out in vast panorama. 
 
 '* I have wired for tiffin to be ready at the Ramboda 
 village Rest House. It is only about fourteen miles, 
 but we have to drive very slowly, and we drop some 
 2,000 feet." 
 
 A great country cart loaded with hay suddenly 
 loomed into view. Gordon swerved the car just in 
 time to clear himself, with less than a foot between the 
 near wheels and the khud on the left. 
 
 Suddenly a body flew off into space, and a wild cry 
 from the rear cleft the air. 
 
 Gordon, with a grunt, rammed on the breaks. 
 
 " The boy has gone! " cried Mallory excitedly. 
 
 As he spoke, a frightened face appeared over the 
 short scrub at the edge of the khud. 
 
 ** Oh, it is Peter, is it? He is always doing it," 
 said Gordon quietly. *' He goes to sleep regularly, 
 and then falls off the footboard. He will be killed one 
 of these days." 
 
 He called out to the boy in Tamil, and the latter, 
 rubbing his arm, again climbed, without a word, to 
 his seat. 
 
 The air grew momentarily warmer. The vegetation 
 as rapidly changed from fir trees, cypresses, and the 
 hardy plants of the hills to sub-tropical varieties. 
 Cocoanut palms, palmyras, and banana plants began 
 to make their appearance. Maidenhair ferns abounded. 
 By the time the car had pulled up in the little village 
 the ladies were glad to discard their coats and to 
 appreciate their white topees. 
 
 " There is the Rest House, up those steps," pointed 
 
58 CICELY TN CEYLON 
 
 Gordon. " I hope the keeper has a decent feed for 
 us. Although mostly tinned stuffs, chicken, and 
 curries, the Rest House meals are, as a rule, not bad. 
 You will learn more of them before we have finished. 
 When we leave Kandy and strike out into the jungle, 
 we shall have nothin_£r else to live on. Take away the 
 common domestic chicken from Ceylon, and the 
 country would be as lost as England without bacon 
 and eggs." 
 
 "What a delightfully cool verandah!" cried 
 Margaret. "And oh, here again is a punkah! I 
 positively haven't seen one since we left the * Soudan.' 
 Can we wash?" 
 
 " Oh yes, certainly. These houses are quite 
 civilised. They are under Government. You will 
 not find them hotels, but they have clean sheets and 
 towels, and decent bedrooms. One may not occupy a 
 bed more than a few days on end, if anybody else 
 should roll up and ask for it. In India one has to 
 carry one's own bedding. Here, you see, we are more 
 advanced, which is a great blessing for motorists. 
 We could hardly carry five lots of bedding on the car, 
 could we? " 
 
 An old Cingalese man hurried from the back 
 premises and seized the ladies' coats. 
 
 " Did you get my wire all right, and have you got a 
 good tiffin ready, old man? " called Gordon. 
 
 " Yes, master! Soup, salmon, roast chicken, chicken 
 curry, egg curry, sardines, peaches." 
 
 " Humph, the usual ! Tinned salmon and peaches, 
 and the inevitable chicken." 
 
 '* Who's afraid ?" cried Mallory. '' I, for one, feel 
 as if I could eat two chickens and drink a whole bottle 
 of Pilsener as well." 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 59 
 
 The Rest House keeper was already running to the 
 kitchen. A coolie, lying indolently on his back on 
 the verandah, gently pulled the punkah rope. The 
 hum of insect life arose drowsily from the garden. 
 The perfume of roses and heliotrope filtered upwards. 
 The peace of mid-day held all things living in its 
 sleepy, tropical embrace. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Gordon and the boy Peter were tinkering the car. 
 IMargaret, ensconced in a lounge chair in a corner of 
 the verandah, was discussing Ireland with Jack 
 Mallory. Cicely for awhile meditatively watched 
 Desmond smoking his pipe ; then she invited him to 
 escort her for a short tour through Ramboda village. 
 
 The village, lying beyond the Rest House, con- 
 sisted of two lines of native shops, a forge, and a 
 handful of dwellings. The villagers, sitting half 
 asleep over their baskets of betel nuts, rice, peppers, 
 dried fish, native bread, etc., at the doors of their 
 shops, viewed the intruders with lazy interest. The 
 ubiquitous length of smouldering rope hung, for the 
 convenience of smokers, before every second shop 
 front. Here and there a group of naked children, 
 at the sight of strangers, fled to the^ safety of their 
 huts. 
 
 Desmond sauntered beside the girl, listening to her 
 casual remarks, and smoking his pipe in comparative 
 silence. They passed through the one village street, 
 and again entered the open road. A quarter of a mile, 
 or more, further on, a great rock hung like a canopy 
 across the road. They had seen the spot in photo- 
 graphs, and likened it to a great nose. 
 
 Having exhausted her conjectures upon the safety 
 of the rocky arch, Cicelv relapsed into silence and 
 
 ' 60 
 
^ CICELY IN CEYLON 6i 
 
 leaned against the roadside stone parapet. Presently 
 her eyes shot a glance of inquiry from beneath 
 the broad rim of her white topee at her silent 
 companion. She crossed and uncrossed her feet, and 
 slowly traced a circle in the dust with the point of a 
 brown shoe. 
 
 " You are very quiet to-day," she said, tentatively. 
 *' What is the matter? Don't you like motoring? '* 
 
 "Like it immensely, thanks!" answered Cleeve 
 quietly. 
 
 Again Cicely's surreptitious glance sought his face. 
 Desmond slowly re-lit his pipe. 
 
 " You are very dull," she ventured. 
 
 " Am I? I am sorry. I do not feel a bit dull." 
 He slowly drew a deep whiff of smoke and puffed it 
 heavenwards. *"* There is plenty for me to see, and 
 er — plenty of other people to talk." 
 
 A curious ring of harshness in his tone riveted her 
 attention. It wasn't like him to be sarcastic. In this 
 mood, she didn't understand him at all. Her eyes 
 were concealed by her drooping lashes, but the corners 
 of her mobile mouth curled slightly, and the suspicion 
 of a flush rose to her cheeks. She ventured another 
 glance in his direction, but, from that, became no 
 wiser. His lips were uncompromisingl}^ shut. His 
 gaze, straight to his front, told her nothing. 
 
 ''There is something wrong, I know," she said 
 presently. "I hate to feel that everybody isn't 
 happy." Her voice grew soft and alluring. She 
 moved the fraction of an inch nearer to him. " Tell 
 me, please." 
 
 "Humph I" 
 
 " Go on, please." 
 
 He felt her eyes upon him. Then, turning suddenly, 
 
62 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 he faced her. " If I tell you, you will tell me to 
 mind my own business— and quite rightly." 
 
 " I won't," she exclaimed indignantly. " How 
 could I when I have asked you? " 
 
 ** You promise? " 
 
 *' Of course,' she replied firmly, again dropping her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Well then, I am disappointed in you. You are 
 allowing Jack Mallory to fall in love with you." 
 
 Cicely's eyes opened wide. Her face expressed 
 unqualified surprise. She blushed divinely. 
 
 *' Alloiving? '' she demanded. ''What do you 
 mean? Besides, he isn't — " 
 
 "Oh yes he is," asserted Desmond unflinchingly, 
 ** and you know it. I didn't think you were nothing 
 but an ordinary flirt." 
 
 "I'm not, Mr. Cleeve," cried Cicely plaintively. 
 " I don't—" 
 
 "Yes, you do," interrupted Desmond, hotly, 
 "You may not say anything particular; I know 
 nothing about that. But you allow him to open his 
 soul to you— you look at him as if — " He stammered 
 into inaudibility. 
 
 "Well?" demanded Cicely sternly. "As if 
 what? " 
 
 Desmond, deliberately, struck a match and tried to 
 light his pipe. 
 
 " Look at me, Mr. Cleeve! " 
 
 " I won't," he replied uncompromisingly. 
 
 " You won't. You are a coward. Why? " 
 
 Slowly and reluctantly his eyes met hers. Cicely's 
 half-shaded by her long lashes, luminous and 
 strangely pathetic, held him conquered. He knew 
 that he was worsted before he looked. For an instant 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 63 
 
 neither spoke. Then, starting with the slightest 
 twitching of the corners of her mouth, and ending in 
 a mischievous twinkle within the depths of her eyes, 
 her face broke into a happy smile. A trill of soft 
 laughter followed. 
 
 *' You're a goose! ' she whispered. 
 
 " Humph ! It is time we were finding our way back 
 to the car," he said. 
 
 As he spoke, the sound of a motor syren echoed 
 through the valley. 
 
 "That is Uncle Gerald calling, I expect," cried 
 Cicely. " I suppose we really must hurry. Come 
 along!" 
 
 For a few moments they walked in silence. Cicely 
 surreptitiously glanced once or twice at Desmond's 
 rigid figure, lout said nothing. But such a situation, 
 as far as she was concerned, could not continue for 
 long. That trace of coquetry which few women 
 worth knowing are without, was never very deeply 
 concealed in Cicely's soul. Her eyes were dangerously 
 expressive. A natural inclination to be nice to every- 
 body added to the danger of trouble. To flirt seriously 
 with any man to his undoing was, however, as 
 contrary to her nature as it would have been 
 to deliberately hurt an animal. Desmond made no 
 pretence of understanding the workings of a woman's 
 mind, but he had divined enough of Cicely's character 
 to believe implicitly in her good intentions. Had he 
 not done so, he would not have ventured to say as 
 much as he had. 
 
 Presently a litde laugh, half nervous and wholly 
 seductive, broke the strained silence. 
 
 "Now that you have had time to ponder so deeply, 
 do you still think me a flirt? " asked Cicely. 
 
64 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 Desmond made as if to speak, and then hesitated. 
 Cicely read his state of mind with ease. 
 
 '' Go on 1 " she said. " Out with it, please.*^ 
 
 " I had no right to speak to you at all,'* he 
 murmured. '' I am sorry. Besides, I may be wrong. 
 You may not have been flirting at all." 
 
 "Oh—! You think—?" 
 
 The mischievous look in the girl's face had fled 
 instantaneously. As she spoke, there was a thrill in 
 her voice which drew Desmond's gaze upon her 
 flushed countenance with surprise. 
 
 For some moments he said nothing. Then — *' I 
 don't know what I think," he answered slowly. " It 
 only struck me that if, after all, you were not pretend- 
 ing with Jack Mallory, I had been guilty of gross 
 impertinence. I — " 
 
 "Well, for goodness sake, don't get struck like that 
 again," intervened Cicely heartily. " Besides, it 
 makes you so dreadfully dull." 
 
 The excited hoot of a motor syren not a hundred 
 yards beyond a turn in' the road aroused them to a 
 sense of their surroundings. A moment later, 
 Gordon's Daimler slowly slid into sight. 
 
 "Oh, there you are at last," exclaimed Margaret, 
 gaily. " We were considering the necessity of a 
 search party. Mr. Mallory has been looking for you 
 everywhere." 
 
 Mallory grunted. Cicely laughed. Desmond 
 followed her into the tonneau. The syren wailed 
 across the valley, and the car resumed its steady crawl 
 down the winding road. 
 
 The view on the left was extraordinarily 
 magnificent. Every moment brought into sight some 
 fresh panorama, which, for the time, claimed their 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 65 
 
 undivided attention. To have conversed of anything 
 but scenic effects would have shewn a callousness 
 worthy of a graven image. 
 
 At last there appeared the large native town of 
 Gampola. Slowly the car wound its way through the 
 narrow streets of native shops and scuttling children. 
 It was necessary to sound the syren continuously. The 
 indifference of native ears to any sound not 
 immediately upon them is notorious. Hens, dogs, 
 and cows seemed to be attracted to the motor like 
 moths to a candle. A native two-wheeled ekka, drawn 
 by a bull, barged into the mudguard. Peter, from his 
 perch on the step, accelerated a pariah dog with his 
 foot. The shopkeepers, indifferent, indolently 
 glanced from their seats behind their wares. A cripple, 
 doubled up amongst the dust of the roadside, chaunted 
 a sing-song refrain and held out a tin cup for alms. 
 A goat escaped the near front wheel by a miracle. 
 
 Beyond Gampola the road ran clear and open. Then 
 came the stone bridge crossing the great river at 
 Peradeniya. A moment later, Gordon pulled up at 
 the Rest House. The entrance to the celebrated 
 Peradeniya Botanical Gardens was close at hand. 
 
 Shouting to the Rest House keeper for tea, Gordon 
 ordered a halt. The afternoon was almost gone. 
 Seen in the coolness of early evening, the gardens 
 would be delightful. 
 
 They did not spend much time over tea and bread 
 and butter. This Rest House, a favourite haunt of 
 local honeymooners, was cool and inviting, but the 
 four miles of road to Kandy had yet to be accom- 
 plished before dark, and there was much to see. 
 
 Between the two great palms flanking the entrance- 
 gate of the gardens they wandered through avenues 
 
 £ 
 
66 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 of beauty, varying at every step. They admired the 
 rubber trees older than any to be seen on the rubber 
 estates they were likely to visit, the great Indian 
 rubber tree with its roots spreading in high buttresses 
 for a circumference of many yards, and the celebrated 
 cotton tree, resplendent with its gorgeous red 
 blossoms. 
 
 It was dark before the car again got under way. 
 Before, however, they had reached the Queen's Hotel 
 at Kandy, a full moon was showing itself above the 
 black hill-tops and touching the ripples of the lake 
 with sparks of light. A gentle zephyr of the night 
 breeze, soughing through the tree tops, cooled the air. 
 
 "Oh, how perfectly beautiful!" exclaimed 
 Margaret. 
 
 " Yes, isn't it? " assented Gordon. '* We will come 
 out after dinner and have" a good look at it." 
 
 The large hotel was practically full of travellers. A 
 touring party from Chicago had arrived that day. 
 Also a German passenger ship, detained at Colombo 
 for a few days, had disgorged its quota of trippers. 
 Anticipating the possibility of being swamped by such 
 tourists, Gordon had secured rooms a week ahead. 
 They were all comfortably tired and hungry after their 
 long day. The dining-room was almost full-up when 
 they appeared and secured their reserved table. 
 Cicely's eyes were dancing with interest at the various 
 strange personalities who at every turn met her gaze. 
 The Americans were decidedly the most remarkable, 
 their openly-expressed opinions of things in general 
 vastly entertaining everybody within earshot. 
 
 Alallory had captured a seat next Cicely, but, try as 
 he would, he was unable to monopolise her attention. 
 The girl was unusually silent and pensive. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 67 
 
 ** When we leave Kandy," said Gordon, ** I intend 
 to take you for a night to put up at the bungalow of a 
 friend of mine. He has a rubber estate, and I am sure 
 you would like to see the place. His wife is in England, 
 and he has an enormous stone bungalow near Matale. 
 Bad luck on him being so much alone ! He has 
 only been married a couple of years, and his wife 
 cannot stand the climate. Perhaps, if she cared 
 enough, she would find that she would get used 
 to it. Comes of marrying too young." He grunted 
 feelingly. '' No girl ought tO' marry before she 
 is twenty-five." 
 
 " Oh," said Cicely. ** I wonder what you know 
 about it." 
 
 " I don't believe that a girl knows what she wants 
 until she is twenty-five, and not always then," replied 
 Gordon unflinchingly. 
 
 Desmond, sitting opposite Cicely, did not fail to 
 catch the challenging look in her eyes. He slowly 
 drained his wine glass. " I quite agree with you, 
 Gordon," he said. 
 
 Margaret laughed lightly. * ' I am afraid. Cicely, 
 that you cannot have impressed your uncle and 
 Desmond with your reliability." 
 
 " Rubbish! " exclaimed Mallory hotly. 
 
 " And may I ask at what age you consider a man 
 has reached reliability? " asked Cicely, with scorn. 
 
 " Possibly thirty," replied Gordon. 
 
 '' Tommy rot! " ejaculated Mallory. 
 
 " Now, there I agree with you. Uncle Gerald," cried 
 Cicely. *' But boys and — women are very different 
 sorts of people." 
 
 " Humph ! " grunted Desmond. ** A young girl 
 thinks she is in love until she meets the next man. An 
 
68 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 older woman knows what she is doing, and what she 
 is giving up when she agrees to marry a man." 
 
 ** But don't you think," ventured Margaret quietly, 
 " that the older woman may accept a man for many 
 reasons other than love — a wish for a home of her 
 own, for instance — the fact that all her friends are 
 marrying — because the man she really loves married 
 somebody else? " 
 
 "There!" exclaimed Cicely triumphantly. 
 
 " Still, I would rather that the young girl had her 
 free fling first," said Gordon. 
 
 " If she is the sort of girl who needs a fling, yes," 
 agreed Mallory, '' but they don't all need that." 
 
 " Have you been reading books, Mr. Mallory, or 
 where have you acquired your special knowledge of 
 girls? " asked Cicely. 
 
 Desmond meditatively filled his wineglass. Then, 
 as if half unwilling, he sought Cicely's eyes and held 
 them. '' I think," said he, " that all girls should be 
 allowed what fling they wish." 
 
 For a moment nobody answered. Then, above the 
 clatter of dishes and the babel of the room, arose the 
 strident voice of one of the party from Chicago. 
 Involuntarily his conversation held their attention. 
 Mamie,' I said, ' if there was a piece of mistletoe 
 over your head I guess I should kiss you.' ' Oh,' 
 she said, 'what's the matter with the ceiling?' I 
 guess Mamie is fly enough. Don't you worry about 
 Mamie." 
 
 Gordon dropped his spoon and broke into convulsive 
 laughter. In another moment the whole table was 
 struggling against hysterical mirth. 
 
 "Jolly good!" gurgled Mallory. ''Some more, 
 please," 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 69 
 
 " My Matale friend told me rather an amusing thing 
 that happened to his assistant the other day," said 
 Gordon. " The latter was off home to England. His 
 old servant came to him and said that he wanted to 
 buy a calf of his that was for sale. He was told that 
 it was already sold. Later on, it was found out that 
 the servant had bought the calf from the original 
 purchaser for sixty rupees. His master asked him 
 why he had been such an ass as to pay so much for a 
 calf worth twenty. His answer, given in all serious- 
 ness, might by some people be misinterpreted. 
 * Because,' he said, ' I want something to remember 
 master by. Not seeing master's face, then looking at 
 calf.' " 
 
 '* I hope his master appreciated the subtlety of the 
 compliment," said Desmond. *' Let us have coffee 
 on the verandah, shall we? " 
 
 But the beauty of the night soon drew them towards 
 the lake. Gordon led the way with Margaret. 
 Desmond, delaying to find a cigar, was content to 
 follow the others slowly. A shaded avenue bordered 
 the lake, and a stone parapet separated it from the 
 water. Presently he came upon Jack Mallory and 
 Cicely leaning against the parapet. He turned to 
 retrace his steps, but Cicely's voice stayed him. 
 
 ** What a heavenly night, Mr, Cleeve, isn't it?" 
 she said. " But it is rather cold." 
 
 Desmond glanced at her bare arms and thin 
 frock, which appeared to his masculine sight to be 
 composed of nothing but blue chiffon. '' I'll get you 
 a coat or something," he said. 
 
 " No, Mr. Mallory will, thanks. He knows where 
 my cloak is," she explained, smiling up at Jack who 
 was sitting above her. 
 
70 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 Mallory was off in a moment. Then suddenly she 
 turned to Desmond. Her eyes were very soft and 
 demure in the half light, and she watched him 
 furtively as she spoke. 
 
 ** I hope," she said, *' that you are quite satisfied 
 with the result of your morning's lecture." 
 
 *' / — satisfied? Why?" he asked in genuine 
 surprise. 
 
 "You heard me snub Mr. Mallory at dinner? 
 Well, I have been snubbing him ever since. I have 
 been perfectly beastly to him. He is thoroughly 
 unhappy now. You object to my being pleasant to 
 people. You see the result." 
 
 She nodded her head defiantly. Desmond glanced 
 towards the hotel — Mallory was running up the steps. 
 He made no answer. 
 
 "Well?" demanded Cicely impatiently. 
 "Well what?" 
 " Say something." 
 
 " I will say, if you like, that I am sorry I gave you 
 that lecture," he answered. " I was a brute, and you 
 are heaping coals of fire on my head by pretending 
 that you care so much for my opinion. You are now 
 being a subtle flatterer." 
 
 " Good gracious, of what shall I be accused 
 next? " she cried. 
 
 ** Don't think that I don't like it; I do," he laughed. 
 " What I Flattery from a mere girl?" she ex- 
 claimed, with a chuckle. " Now, if I were a woman, I 
 could quite understand." 
 
 For a moment Desmond appeared to be studying the 
 stone of the parapet. Cicely was watching him with 
 mischievous interest. 
 
 " You need not be more of a woman than you are to 
 
I 
 
 CICELY IN CEYLON 71 
 
 understand," he murmured, half to himself. *' I 
 wonder how much you do understand of men ? " 
 
 Cicely looked over her shoulder, then softly began 
 to hum a song. 
 
 ** Here is Mr. Mallory As he has gone for my 
 cloak, I must really be nice to him again." 
 
 " You simply can't help being nice to everybody," 
 said Desmond. " That's the trouble." 
 
 ** Thank you, fair sir! " she whispered, curtseying 
 demurely. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 The view of Kandy quite upheld its promise of the 
 night before. It was cool and pleasant in the early- 
 morning, and the walk of some three miles round the 
 lake was wonderfully picturesque. From the road 
 running half way up the heights, past nestling 
 bungalows and through vegetation of infinite beauty, 
 they came upon such a variety of views that each one 
 seemed more entrancing than the last. Encircling 
 the lake, the road led doAvnwards to the level again, 
 and a short walk brought them to the w^alled enclosure, 
 within which is the temple of the Sacred Tooth. 
 
 Priests in yellow robes, crippled beggars, vendors 
 of jasmine and oleander flowers, to be used as offerings 
 for the shrine, and native loafers of various 
 descriptions, hung about the entrance. None of them, 
 except Gordon, had ever before seen a Buddhist 
 temple. Reverently they mounted the stone steps 
 beyond the entrance gate. But reverence, such as 
 Europeans know it, did not seem to be at all necessary. 
 Some Cingalese maidens were upon their knees 
 mumbling their prayers, but they did not fail to watch 
 the visitors the while ; and the priests seemed to 
 wander about amongst the worshippers without any 
 thought of disturbing the latter's devotions. 
 
 A moat surrounded the inner sacred temple. 
 Leading up to this were more steps, until one came to 
 two doors, studded with curious iron-work ornamenta- 
 
 72 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 73 
 
 tion, and flanked by two elephant tusks on either 
 side. Beyond these was a further flight of narrow 
 steps leading to doors inlaid with silver and ivory. 
 
 A priest, with characteristic clean-shaven face and 
 head, opened the doors. 
 
 " I hope it is safe?" said Cicely, with a shudder. 
 "Oh, do look!" 
 
 Upon a table of solid silver could be seen a bell- 
 shaped structure of silver gilt, protected by iron bars. 
 The priest tried to explain, but Gordon, as interpreter, 
 had to come to the rescue. 
 
 "That inverted bell thing," he said, "is called a 
 dagaba. It is the same shape as all the Buddhist 
 temples. This, of course, is in miniature, but when 
 we get to the sacred buried city of Anuradhapura you 
 will see some of them as big as St. Paul's in London." 
 
 " Steady on, old chap! " guffawed Mallory. 
 
 "Quite true!" replied Gordon. "Wait and see! 
 Beneath this little dagaba here are half a dozen smaller 
 ones, all of gold, and studded with precious stones — 
 rubies, emeralds, catseyes, pearls, and all sorts of 
 things. Buddha's tooth itself is in the last one, which 
 is completely covered by rubies, and is only shown at 
 very special festivals. I myself have seen it once. 
 It is suspended by a gold wire, and is larger than any 
 tooth that Buddha, or any other human being, for that 
 matter, ever possessed. 
 
 " How nasty! " exclaimed Margaret. 
 
 As she spoke, the old priest disclosed the inner 
 dagabas, and Margaret and Cicely inspected the inlaid 
 jewels with considerable awe. Where had they all 
 come from? What wonderful histories could each 
 stone relate, if speech could be given it ! 
 
 " I believe that the jewels have been given by 
 
74 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 various Kandyan kings and chiefs," said Gordon in 
 answer to their thoughts, " The majority of them must 
 be very old." 
 
 "It is very hard to keep the Tenth Commandment 
 sometimes," sighed Cicely. " I simply love old 
 jewels." 
 
 ** I don't know how long this temple has been here," 
 continued Gordon. " The books state that Kandy did 
 not become the centre of the Cingalese kingdom until 
 the sixteenth century. When the Cingalese deserted 
 Anuradhapura they tried various places, and then 
 came here. I shouldn't bother to study their history, 
 if I were you. The Portuguese, who at that time were 
 in possession of all the coastline, sent expeditions over 
 and over again to capture Kandy." 
 
 *' I should have liked to have been with those 
 troops," said Mallory. *' Talk of loot— hey, what!" 
 
 "You wouldn't have got any," laughed Gordon. 
 " You would have done better in our own army. 
 There were no roads in those days, and, as you see, 
 Kandy is surrounded by hills and jungle which must 
 at that time have been practically impassable to 
 European troops. When the Dutch ousted the 
 Portuguese, they did not attempt to conquer 
 Kandy, but made friends, more or less, with the 
 Kandyan kings. The consequence was that, 
 for over three hundred years, the Kandyan kings 
 held barbaric sway over all this part of the country. 
 When our troops turned up, about the year 1800,, 
 there was another story to tell. The Kandyan king 
 of the time was transported to India, and saw Ceylon 
 no more. There is a great religious show outside this 
 temple once a year, and then you see the present so- 
 called Kandyan chiefs— with elephants and jewels, and 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 75 
 
 all the paraphernalia of their rank — marching in a 
 procession. They have practically no power now — 
 being in that respect not a bit like the Indian princes 
 and rajahs." 
 
 " Please ask the old priest where he expects to go 
 to when he dies," said Margaret. '' I have been 
 reading a little about the Buddhist faith, but the more 
 I read the more confusing it seems." 
 
 " Oh, if you are interested in it, you can get plenty 
 of food for thought at Anuradhapura. That was the 
 first place where Buddhism took root in Ceylon." 
 
 " Who was Buddha, anyway? " asked Mallory. 
 
 *' Good gracious ! No wonder your father sent you 
 forth to gain knowledge," Intervened Cicely. 
 
 *' The first Buddha was a son of an Indian chief who 
 lived in the neighbourhood of Benares," explained 
 Gordon, laughing. " His name was Gautama. He 
 founded the religion, and became its apostle and 
 missionary. There have been heaps of Buddhas since 
 then." 
 
 '' I knew all that, Mr. Mallory," said Cicely glibly. 
 " I read books when I travel." 
 
 "Humph! Even parrots can talk," grunted 
 Mallory. 
 
 ''' You wait! " murmured Cicely. " I will pay you 
 out for that." 
 
 " I believe," continued Gordon, " that it was some- 
 time about 300 B.C. that the son of an Indian king — 
 Asoka — came to Ceylon and converted the Cingalese 
 king, Tissa. The latter built the sacred city of 
 Anuradhapura in consequence. This became deserted 
 later on, and most of it has only been resurrected from 
 buried oblivion during the last few years." 
 
 "Yes,' said Margaret, ''but I don't in the least 
 
76 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 understand why they pray, or why Buddha is appealed 
 to in their prayers. As far as I can see, the principal 
 article of their faith is that existence in this world is 
 nothing but sorrow. After death the soul enters 
 the body of an animal, or, if the dead man has been 
 very good, possibly he gets the body of a man again. 
 After a long and weary series of existences have been 
 gone through, he may have so well worked out his 
 salvation that he becomes a Buddha. But Buddha 
 never seems to get any further. He doesn't seem to 
 cease to exist. Is a Buddha a spirit? Ask him, 
 please." 
 
 "Humph!" grunted Gordon. ''Have you ever 
 asked questions, when you were a child, concerning 
 our own religion, and been quite satisfied with the 
 answers? I will, however, approach the oracle." 
 
 The old priest had been standing, sphinx-like, 
 listening intently to catch some intelligible fragments 
 of the conversation. 
 
 Gordon translated as best he could. 
 
 The old man's face lit up with interest. Gordon 
 could not easily follow his explanation, but, in time, 
 he managed to collect an answer. 
 
 " Yes," he said, ** he seems to think that by praying 
 to Buddha the effects of evil spirits can be warded off. 
 Buddha — at all events, one Buddha — seems to be 
 actively potent in the spirit world. I asked him what 
 he expects to be when he dies. He says that he will 
 probably be an animal." 
 
 *' Ask him if he can possibly become an English- 
 man in another existence? " said Margaret. 
 
 " Or a woman? " cried Cicely. 
 
 Gordon turned again to the old man, who was 
 holding out some oleander flowers with which he 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 77 
 
 wished the ladies to honour the shrine. At Gordon's 
 questions, he shrugged his shoulders, and his wrinkled 
 face broke into a smile. 
 
 " He says that it is quite possible for him to be an 
 Englishman, and even a woman, but to be the latter^ 
 would be a degradation." 
 
 **Oh, oh, Miss Rosmead, that's one for you!" 
 chuckled Mallory. 
 
 *• Pouf I " cried Cicely. ** No wonder that a man 
 with his intelligence is a heathen. If he had an atom 
 of sense he would pray continuously that he might 
 become a woman." 
 
 ** Or a girl," added Desmond. 
 
 "Of course! They're the same," said Cicely 
 defiantly. 
 
 '* Now then, Desmond, don't tease!" intervened 
 Margaret. ''We had your views on that subject last 
 night. We have now more interesting things to 
 study. If those are the beliefs of these wretched 
 people, no wonder they regard ultimate happiness as 
 equivalent to total extinction." 
 
 '' Imagine becoming a rat, for instance!" cried 
 Cicely, shuddering. ' * Ugh ! ' ' 
 
 '' Come along," said Gordon. *' You can continue 
 your Oriental studies another time. I want to get 
 off to Matale before dark." 
 
 Giving the old phongee some rupees for his temple, 
 they left him, and crossed to the Oriental library. But 
 even Margaret did not feel inclined, that morning, for 
 the study of ancient manuscripts. The Sanskrit 
 characters were scratched upon slips, cut from palmyra 
 leaves, 'each book consisted of a bundle of these 
 leaves, protected on the outside by wooden slips like 
 the sticks of a large fan, 
 
78 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 " I don't suppose there is a love story amongst the 
 lot of them," exclaimed Cicely. 
 
 " I don't know so much about that," answered 
 Gordon. ** I should think there would be, and 
 probably tragic ones at that. But you mustn't be 
 disappointed. When we get to Trincomalee I will 
 unfold to you a most romantic love story of a Dutch 
 girl who lived there many years ago." 
 
 Sauntering back to the hotel, Gordon pointed to a 
 long stone building, with a spacious verandah, 
 situated high up above the road, which he said had 
 been the palace of the old kings, but was now used as 
 the residence of the Government Agent of the 
 province. 
 
 "I am not at all sure that I would care to live in 
 a house with that history," remarked Cicely. " Too 
 many ghosts." 
 
 ''Well, I, for one, shall be fit to join the ranks 
 of the departed if v/e don't have lunch soon," cried 
 Mallory. *' Then I shall come and haunt you dread- 
 fully." 
 
 " For goodness' sake, come then and get some food 
 quickly," laughed Cicely, taking his hand and 
 running with him down the road. '* You are quite 
 difficult enough to manage in the flesh. As an 
 ethereal being you would be preposterous." 
 
 It was not until an hour later that the motor syren 
 again awoke the echoes of the street. 
 
 Mallory asked to be allowed to drive, but Gordon 
 shook his head decidedly. *' Wait a while," he said, 
 " until we find a straight bit of road, and then you 
 can, with pleasure. The sixteen miles from here to 
 Matale is all down-hill, and very tricky." 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 79 
 
 Gordon's statement was soon proved to be true. The 
 road wound round and round, rapidly descending 
 through miles of rubber trees. The latter were very 
 easily recognisable, as the long spiral cuts in the bark, 
 running in parallel lines, marked every tree of any 
 size. Occasionally the monotony was broken by tea 
 bushes, or the great red pods of cocoa hanging loosely 
 from their low trees. 
 
 " You will be able to see them tapping rubber trees 
 to-morrow," said Gordon. " Those spiral marks you 
 see are the result of old, healed-up tappings." 
 
 " Do you think rubber has come to stay? " asked 
 Desmond. '' I hope so." 
 
 ** Yes, I think so— decidedly. At the same time, one 
 must not forget that there was once a coffee boom. At 
 one time coffee covered Ceylon. The old coffee days, 
 I am told, were grand days. But the blight came to 
 coffee with a suddenness that almost ruined the island, 
 and a period of poverty followed, which, for a time, was 
 helped out by cultivating cinchona. Then came tea. 
 Now has come rubber. We all know about tea, but 
 what is to be the ultimate future of rubber it would 
 take a cleverer man than I to determine. It looks all 
 serene at present. In spite of the fact that the London 
 public made fools of themselves by unduly booming 
 the shares, and then, like frightened rabbits, unloading 
 at any price, rubber is paying well." 
 
 '' Glad to hear it," said Mallory. '* My father has 
 a lot of shares still, which have dropped something 
 awful. And the old gentleman's language, in 
 consequence, is equally painful to hear." 
 
 ** The trouble is, that we do not yet know how long 
 a rubber tree will last," continued Gordon. ** The 
 latex ceased to flow last summer, when we had a 
 
8o CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 drought, and preconceived estimates went phut, but 
 it is doing all right again now. You will see a factory 
 to-morrow. Jackson, to whose bungalow we are 
 going, has rubber, tea, and cocoa." 
 
 It was sunset before the car ran into Matale. The 
 hills of tea, rubber, pepper, cocoa, cinchona, and 
 many other minor commodities rose above the village 
 on all sides. Down in the valley the heat was 
 decidedly oppressive — worse, in fact, than any they 
 had experienced since leaving the Red Sea. 
 
 The native life of the bazaar, which still continued to 
 fill the party with never-flagging interest, awoke in its 
 own way to the presence of the motor car. Children 
 fled, pariah dogs barked, and hens and goats and cows 
 did their best, as usual, to get in the way. 
 
 Without stopping, Gordon slowly wound his way 
 through the village and out again upon the straight 
 road leading to ' Trinco.' About a mile beyond,| 
 however, he suddenly turned off to the left, and, 
 running up a slight incline through a garden, pulled 
 up at the door of a commodious stone bungalow. 
 
 A native servant rushed forth at the sound of the 
 horn. His master, he explained, was at the factory, 
 but was expecting them, and all was ready for their 
 arrival. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 As Gordon had stated, the bungalow proved more 
 than large enough to hold them all comfortably. The 
 absent Mrs. Jackson, despite what shortcomings she 
 may have possessed, had certainly left a comfortably- 
 furnished bungalow behind her. The climate was, if 
 anything, hotter than Colombo, but there was plenty 
 of water for baths, and soothing punkahs in all tRe 
 rooms. 
 
 The evening was a short one, as everybody was 
 sleepy after a long day. After dinner, their host 
 pressed Margaret to play the piano, and Gordon 
 automatically found himself by her side. It was a 
 dreamy atmosphere. The moon shone brilliantly; 
 tropical trees of every variety were silhouetted against 
 the skyline; frogs croaked incessantly in one steady 
 hum of discordancy ; lizards raced upon the verandah 
 walls in pursuit of beetles ; the swish of the punkah 
 lulled the senses towards oblivion. 
 
 Cicely and Jack Mallory, in long armchairs, were 
 half asleep upon the verandah. Desmond and his 
 host smoked their cheroots in the drawing-room. 
 Margaret softly played Schubert's " Serenade," from 
 which she drifted into one of Chopin's nocturnes. 
 Gordon seemed the only one awake and he, as usual 
 when Margaret played, was quite content to watch 
 the player. 
 
 Nine o'clock saw them all in bed. Bu! an hour 
 F 8i 
 
82 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 after daylight they were again astir. The early 
 morning was passably cool, but they realised, without 
 much telling, that Ceylon has many climates. 
 Gordon's estate w^as quite a different place to w^here 
 they were now. 
 
 After early tea, their Host conducted them out into 
 the rubber lands. Here, the rubber was not inter- 
 planted with tea. The tea and cocoa grew on separate 
 acreages. Moving along beneath the shade of five- 
 year-old rubber trees, Mr. Jackson readily explained 
 conditions. His heart was in his work, and he 
 obviously enjoyed dilating upon it. 
 
 The coolies were hard at work scoring the trees 
 with iron scarifiers. Beneath each spiral cut at the 
 foot of the tree a little cup was placed, and then the 
 coolie would move on to another tree. 
 
 '' The rubber latex drips from the wound in the bark 
 until that local source of supply is ended. Then the 
 cut heals up like a cut in one^s flesh," explained their 
 host. " One coolie can tap several hundred trees in a 
 day. We require only about one coolie per acre — 
 pretty much the same as for tea. The trees are planted 
 about twenty feet by twenty. At least, that is the latest 
 and best method. The older estates are planted closer, 
 but we are discovering that rubber needs room for its 
 top Branches. Of course, the coolies have to weed 
 also. Some people argue that weeding is unnecessary, 
 but that fallacy has by now been pretty well knocked 
 on the head. Also, I do not believe in planting tea 
 amongst the rubber. How much tapping a tree will 
 stand is not yet known — the industry is not quite old 
 enough. We know, however, that it will stand a 
 great deal. We do not begin here on trees under five 
 years old." 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON S3 
 
 " How much does a tree give? " asked Desmond. 
 " A five-year-old tree will not give more than half a 
 pound a year. We calculate thatin its second year it 
 ought to give double that, and double again in the 
 third. For these estimates we must, of course, have 
 rain. No rain, no latex!" 
 
 ** What about your labour now?" questioned 
 Desmond. 
 
 " Oh, that is all right. We have very little sickness. 
 We pay by results. Consequently, a coolie earns half 
 as much again as your tea coolies. Nevertheless, as 
 you know, we are still putting rubber on the market 
 at under tenpence a pound." 
 
 Talking as they went, their host led them by a 
 winding path to where a long, low building stood 
 about half a mile from the house. It was growing 
 hotter every moment, but their interest in every yard 
 of what they saw quite made up for the discomfort of 
 walking. 
 
 On entering the factory, the place, at first sight, 
 resembled a laundry. Sheets of white material hung 
 about the building like drying clothes. 
 " Is that rubber? " cried Cicely. 
 ** Yes," repied Jackson. " The latex is collected 
 in buckets from those little cups and brought here. 
 Acetic acid is then added to it to coagulate it. It is 
 then washed, and the water wrung out by putting it 
 through those sort of mangle things. What you see 
 hanging up is the finished crepe rubber. We roll it 
 out here as thin as thick sheets of paper. It is 
 remarkably white, isn't it? " 
 
 "It is jolly hot!" groaned Mallory, mopping his 
 face with his hankerchief. 
 
 ''What does that matter?" laughed Cicely. 
 
84 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 " Think of all you are learning. Think how you are 
 pleasing your father." 
 
 Their host chuckled. '' You soon get used to it," 
 he said. " But I think that it is time for breakfast 
 now. I am sure you will all be glad of something iced 
 to drink. I am lucky here in being so near the 
 railway. Its terminus is at Matale, and my coolie 
 will have arrived from the station with the ice by now. 
 You will not see any more of the railway for some 
 time. From here to Trincomalee there is nothing but 
 one straight road, first through rubber plantations 
 and then virgin jungle." 
 
 The swish of the punkahs, and the iced whisky 
 and soda and lemonade, not to mention the breakfast 
 which they found waiting for them, was very welcome.. 
 The chairs, with the long arms upon which they could 
 rest their legs and dream amidst the hum of insect 
 life, were very inviting. Margaret, half dozing after 
 breakfast, wondered what such a life would be like 
 when one became used to it. Cicely was thinking of 
 the young wife whose drawing-room they had taken 
 possession of. To live one's whole life there in 
 happiness one would need, as she expressed it to 
 Margaret, *' to love the man a lot." 
 
 Mr. Jackson, emerging after an interview with the 
 cook, interrupted his guests' day-dreams by announc- 
 ing that he had invited some twenty friends from the 
 district to come over for that evening, and have a 
 little dance. 
 
 *' Oh, but I am afraid we must be off this 
 afternoon," said Gordon. 
 
 " A dance, did you say? " cried Cicely. '' How 
 delightful I Going away without waiting for it. Uncle 
 Gerald! Who ever heard of such a thing? " 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 85 
 
 '* I do hope you will stay, Gordon? " pleaded their 
 host. '* I am not often honoured by ladies in my 
 bungalow in these days. I have just been arranging 
 a little supper with my cook." 
 
 '' Well, of course we'll stay, Mr. Jackson," declared 
 Cicely, with firmness. *' Can I help with the supper? 
 I know how to make first rate cider-cup." 
 
 ** And I will play the piano for you," said Margaret. 
 
 " Ripping! " shouted Mallory, jumping to his feet. 
 ** What can /do?" 
 
 *' You can stay exactly where you are," answered 
 Desmond, *' whilst I assist Miss Cicely to make the 
 cider-cup. Have you any cider, Jackson? " 
 
 '' Plenty," replied their host, smiling with content. 
 " We will make it a bang-up affair, between us." 
 
 Mallory, so surprised at Desmond's unusual claim 
 upon Cicely's society that he was bereft of 
 speech, fell back in his chair and reflectively lit a 
 cigarette. 
 
 The required preparations were, after all, very few, 
 and it was just as well, for the guests began to drift 
 in soon after sunset. Their evening clothes, carried 
 in boxes on coolies' heads, followed them. When 
 they had all arrived, they numbered twenty-two, of 
 whom only two were ladies. 
 
 There were, apparently, no end of performers on 
 the piano, so Margaret was in no way bound down to 
 sacrifice herself all the evening. 
 
 The dinner beforehand was a decidedly gay affair, 
 and the presence of fresh English faces was obviously 
 appreciated to the full. 
 
 No time, after dinner, was lost in beginning. The 
 piano, in fact, thumped by an enthusiastic planter to 
 an adaptation of " The Eton boating song," 
 
86 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 summoned them from the table before the coffee had 
 arrived. 
 
 *' Come along," whispered Desmond to Cicely, 
 slipping his arm about her waist before she had time 
 to answer, "we really must not miss this while you 
 are making up your mind whom you wish to dance 
 with." 
 
 Cicely laughed lightly, and the next moment they 
 were waltzing down the verandah, followed by most 
 of the others. 
 
 The majority of the men had to dance with each 
 other, but they seemed used to it, and dashed off at a 
 pace which, in that heat, was bound soon to reduce 
 their shirt-fronts to a pulpy mass. 
 
 " You didn't learn to waltz like this in your 
 chambers in Lincoln's Inn," whispered Cicely, as 
 Desmond piloted her across the drawing room floor 
 and dexterously avoided two erratic couples. 
 
 " Perhaps not," he laughed. " Nor did I often find 
 a partner like you in my chambers, either." 
 
 "Often, indeed!" she exclaimed, reversing. "A 
 complimentary person would have left out the word 
 'often.' " 
 
 " Oh, compliments — like sweets — are only really 
 good for little girls," he retorted, gaily. " A woman 
 only laughs at them." 
 
 "Oh, and so I am a woman now, am I?" she 
 asked, as the piano suddenly stopped " This is 
 growing decidedly interesting. Come and sit down. 
 And, oh, do fan me with something, please, or I shall 
 surely melt." 
 
 Desmond, looking about him, soon discovered a 
 palmyra'-leaf fan, and, returning to his partner, drew 
 his chair close to hers. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 87 
 
 ** Yes, you are a woman to-night,'* he admitted. 
 ** Or else I am a boy again. I suppose you realise 
 that you, like all women, are swayed by many 
 moods? " 
 
 ** What do you mean? " she inquired in surprise. 
 
 *' I only mean that sometimes you are so deliciously 
 irresponsible, that you live only for the moment, and 
 take what the moment offers. At other times you are 
 surprisingly thoughtful." 
 
 "H'm! Now I wonder what that means?" 
 
 *' It means that I am wondering if a woman ever 
 has any real age," he replied. 
 
 '*But," she chuckled, "I thought that you had 
 settled that a woman knew her real age when she was 
 twenty-five? Until then, we must — poor things! — 
 drift along as best we can." 
 
 " Oh, well," he sighed, " some of you manage to 
 drift very charmingly." 
 
 With a crash, the piano broke into a rollicking ' two- 
 step.* 
 
 *' Are you there. Cicely? " called Gordon from the 
 other end of the verandah. '' I want to introduce at 
 least six partners to you." 
 
 " Coming, Uncle Gerald," she replied. ** Au 
 revoir, Mr. Cleeve." 
 
 There were no further interruptions of the music 
 until supper was ready. Dance after dance followed 
 in a steady flow, and the ladies had to divide their 
 dances into halves in order to meet the clamouring of 
 the many men. Collars melted and shirts crumpled 
 long before the evening was half through. Cicely's 
 cider-cup was voted excellent, but gallons of cider-cup 
 could not have properly assuaged the thirst of the 
 dancers. 
 
88 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 Lighting his pipe, Desmond slipped into a long 
 chair and gave himself up to reverie. He was 
 beginning to feel a different man since the day he left 
 England. The mental rest had a lot to do with his 
 exhilaration of spirits, without doubt, but he had to 
 admit that it was by no means the whole cause of his 
 newly-awakened delight in life. 
 
 He was eventually dragged in to supper by his host, 
 and it was well on into the early hours of the next 
 morning before he, or anybody else, found the way to 
 bed. 
 
 It was not until late the next day that most of the 
 guests departed. Where they all slept was a marvel, 
 but they certainly managed somehow. 
 
 Gordon's party started at last. Dambulla was only 
 twenty miles further on, but Gordon explained that he 
 intended them to visit the great rock of Sigiri there 
 before dark. " There will be plenty of time to rest at 
 Kantalai," he said. '' We can stop there for a couple 
 of days to shoot." 
 
 It was almost the hottest time of the day as they at 
 last waved ''good-bye" to their host, and rushed 
 down the road, but in the Tropics a motor, on the 
 move, makes its own cooling breeze. The boy Peter 
 complained of fever, but Gordon was used to that. He 
 knew Peter of old. From a leather pocket case he 
 produced quinine tabloids, and Peter was ordered to 
 swallow some on the spot. Native fashion, he 
 preferred to chew them first. That, as Gordon 
 remarked, was his look-out. 
 
 The journey to Dambulla, by comparison with the 
 hill country, was deadly dull. Through small villages 
 and plantations they sped in monotonous succession. 
 The road, a military one, had been built to reach its 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 89 
 
 destination at Trincomalee with as little circumlocution 
 as possible. Civilization disappeared rapidly at every 
 mile. Before they had reached the Rest House, in 
 fact, both sides of the road were enveloped in virgin 
 jungle, and wild animals might be met at any moment. 
 Beyond Dambulla, as Gordon said, this condition of 
 wildness would be still more marked, and rifles and 
 shot guns might be the order of the day at any turn 
 of the road. Their impatience to discard civilization 
 was growing apace. Jack Mallory yearned for bears 
 and cheetahs. Cicely and Margaret wanted to see a 
 crocodile. Gordon laughed, and refused to promise. 
 " You must see Sigiri first, whether you like it or not," 
 he said firmly. 
 
 ''But who wants to see temples and things?" 
 demanded Mallory. *' Do you, Miss Cleeve? " 
 
 " It isn't a temple," explained Gordon. " It is a 
 great rock about five hundred feet high. A Cingalese 
 prince fought with his family, and fled there for safety. 
 He raised a protective wall round it, and then built a 
 spiral stairway up its sides and lived on the top. He was 
 a murderer and a rebel, and he ended his days in what 
 he imagined to be good works, in order to propitiate 
 those fates which, in his belief, regulated the soul's 
 transmigration. The view from the top is well worth 
 the climb. For your father's sake, Mallory, I insist 
 upon your seeing it. No Sigiri, no shooting I " 
 
 They were expected at the Rest House, and after 
 tea, as in duty bound, they started forth for the great 
 rock. The climb up, by many steps spirally 
 encircling the rock, was not too difificult, and 
 from the top they could see the jungle country for 
 many miles. 
 
 The sun was already below the horizon as they 
 
90 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 returned. Tfie Rest House was just big enough to 
 hold them all, and should any belated travellers arrive, 
 the verandah chairs would need to be used as beds. 
 As it turned out, no such interruption occurred, so 
 they had the place at their disposal. The 
 Cingalese cook produced a surprisingly good dinner, 
 and from the car Gordon extracted a case of claret and 
 hock. Except for the everlasting hum of insects and 
 the croaking of frogs in many a neighbouring swamp, 
 the night was absolutely still. The world, as they 
 had known it, might as well have been in another 
 planet. 
 
 After dinner, they deserted the heat of the common 
 living-room, and sought comfortable spots on the 
 broad verandah. Desmond and Jack Mallorv were soon 
 deep in a discussion concerning the merits of various 
 rifles. Gordon was leaning over the far end of the 
 verandah with Margaret. 
 
 Cicely, for a wonder, was for the moment, alone. She 
 seemed to be pondering over something more than 
 usually difficult of solution. Her eyes were very 
 thoughtful; her hands lay idly in her lap; she didn't 
 stir. 
 
 Suddenly, seemingly within a few yards of the 
 bungalow, there burst upon the night a shrill scream- 
 ing as of wild devils in agony. Everybody, except 
 Gordon, sprang up in alarm. 
 
 " It is only jackals," said Gordon quietly. ** You 
 hear them every night in these parts. I expect they 
 are on the look out for the vHlagers' hens." 
 
 Mallory, in his excitement, had run out into the 
 compound. Cicely slowly crossed the verandah and, 
 joining Desmond, leaned upon the rail by his side 
 and looked out into the night. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 91 
 
 "And so," she said presently, ** you think that 
 girls should have what you call their ffing ? '' 
 
 Desmond started up. The question, so apparently 
 irrelevant, found him hopelessly unready with an 
 answer. 
 
 " I suppose, having their fling means flirting, 
 doesn't it? " she continued. 
 
 "Humph! I suppose it does, in a way," he 
 admitted reluctantly. 
 
 Cicely laughed softly. She looked very bewitching 
 as she rested her elbows on the rail in the half light 
 of the verandah. With her chin upon her hands, she 
 raised her eyelashes quickly and looked up into 
 Desmond's perplexed face. Within her eyes was a 
 coquettish gleam of mischief which he knew meant 
 trouble for him. 
 
 "Don't you change your opinions rather suddenly, 
 Mr. Cleeve? " she asked sweetly. 
 
 " Perhaps I do," he replied. "That comes of 
 associating with you. To tell you a secret, do you 
 know that lately I have begun to doubt whether I 
 really know anything about girls at all." 
 
 " Oh! Now I wonder what you mean by that? 
 You are not usually so humble.'* 
 
 " I only mean what I say," he explained. 
 
 " I think men are often much more difficult." 
 
 "The whole world seems difficult sometimes," he 
 replied uncommittin^ly. 
 
 Cicely's mouth puckered with indecision. For a 
 moment she studied his face_, and then impatiently 
 stamped her foot on the verandah. 
 
 " I c?o wish you wouldn't be so exasperating — or is it 
 clever? I never pretend to be clever." Her voice 
 changed to dangerous plaintiveness. " Please explain. 
 
92 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 I haven't flirted one little bit for two days, and I need 
 advice. Do you think I ought? Is that the way you 
 think I should get through my fling? " 
 
 " I think you should be allowed to do as you like," 
 answered Desmond. 
 
 '* But you said I wasn't to flirt with Mr. Mallory, 
 didn't you? You called me — well— all sorts of names 
 at Kandy." 
 
 " I didn't! " denied Desmond firmly. 
 
 '' Well, you hinted at them anyw^ay." 
 
 *' Not even hinted— not in earnest. In any case, I 
 said I was sorry. I say I think you should do as you 
 like, because I am quite sure that you would not like 
 to hurt anybody intentionally. Why I said n^hat I 
 did was merely to warn you that you might be 
 unconsciously hurting somebody." 
 
 " And you now think then, that, as you have 
 warned me, I may flirt with anybody — even Mr. 
 iMallory?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Why?" she questioned in surprise. 
 
 *' Because I trust you — more even, I imagine, than 
 you trust yourself," replied Desmond seriously. 
 
 For a few moments Cicely studied the distant 
 skyline. The stars w^ere very bright, and the edge of 
 the moon was just rising above the tree tops. Desmond 
 watched her silently. 
 
 " You are very sure of me," she said softly. 
 
 " Yes, I am quite sure," he answered. 
 
 " I wish you wouldn't — trust me so much," she 
 whispered half to herself. 
 
 Desmond laughed lightly. "And why not?'* 
 he questioned. 
 
 Cicely's eyes raised themselves to his. Her words 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 93 
 
 came very slowly, and in their utterance was a tone 
 of seriousness unusual to her. 
 
 "Because I hate disappointing people," she said. 
 '^A.nd I may—" 
 
 ** But you won*tI " he interrupted. 
 
 Cicely gravely shook her head. For a moment 
 there was silence. Then she slowly broke into a 
 merry ripple of laughter. 
 
 ** It looks, then, as if this girl will have to put off 
 her fling until some later day, doesn't it? " she said. 
 Then, looking up demurely at Desmond's thoughtful 
 face, she added, "There isn't anybody to flirt with 
 but Mr. Mallory, is there? " 
 
 Desmond's countenance expressed amusement. The 
 air of innocence upon Cicely's upturned face was most 
 diverting. 
 
 "Well," he said quietly, "it depends upon who 
 you call anybody. Of course your uncle is out of 
 it. And I — well — I have forgotten how, even if you 
 cared to try me." 
 
 "By Jupiter," exclaimed Mallory, stalking across 
 the verandah, " I wish I coufd get a shot at some of 
 those devils. I shall get ready for them to-morrow 
 with a rifle." 
 
 Cicely, smiling, apparently at her own thoughts, 
 turned towards the bungalow\ 
 
 '' Good night all ! " she said. " Pleasant dreams." 
 
 Desmond and Mallory, leaning over the verandah, 
 remained for some time smoking. Then they retired 
 within. 
 
 Desmond, whistling softly, slowly undressed, 
 garbed himself in pyjamas, and slipped beneath the 
 mosquito curtain. He was not used to the heat of the 
 plains, and hardly expected to sleep. The air was 
 
94 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 very still, and a sickly heavy odour of flowers drifted 
 in through the open door. 
 
 However, just as he thought he was dropping off to 
 sleep, he received a shock which made his heart lose 
 one beat at least. 
 
 A gun had been discharged in the next room! 
 
 In a bound he reached the floor, and, with trembling 
 fingers, groped for the matches. The next moment, 
 holding a lighted candle aloft, he stood on the 
 threshold of Jack Mallory's room. Then frightened 
 cries from Margaret and Cicely were followed by the 
 advent of Gordon on the verandah. 
 
 Except for the moonlight the room was in darkness, 
 but Mallory, a gun still in his hand, could be seen, 
 with his back to the door, kneeling upon his bed. 
 
 '* What has happened? '"^ gasped Desmond running 
 into the room. 
 
 " Look out, old fellow, for Heaven's sake ! I think 
 he is dead, but I am not sure. Wait a moment until 
 I see if he moves! " 
 
 ''Where. What?" cried Gordon. 
 
 " Why, a cobra," replied Mallory more quietly. ** I 
 think I have killed him, but I would not be certain 
 yet." 
 
 Desmond and Gordon involuntarily hesitated. 
 
 "He isn't moving," explained Mallory. ** I saw 
 him coiled up on the matting in the moonlight behind 
 my bed. Luckily, Peter had left the guns near the 
 door, so I slipped out of bed, rammed in a cartridge, 
 and let him have the contents before he had time to 
 cause any trouble." 
 
 Desmond, realising that danger from a snake which 
 had received a charge of shot at a ten foot range must 
 now be past, bodily advanced with the candle. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 95) 
 
 Suddenly he stopped, held the candle above his 
 head, glared at the now clearly-defined coil at his feet, 
 and burst into a roar of laughter. 
 
 "My dear Mallory," he said, ''your cobra is 
 dead enough. You can safely come off the bed. I will 
 run and tell the girls that you are still alive, and that 
 they can go to sleep once more. They must be half 
 frightened out of their wits." 
 
 " Good Heavens I " stammered Mallory. *' Nothing 
 but a piece of rope, as I am a sinner I " 
 
 '' Yes, it certainly does look like it, doesn't it? " 
 remarked Gordon, drily. *' In fact, it looks 
 uncommonly like the piece of rope that Peter uses to 
 tie up the gun cases with." 
 
 '' The girls have dissolved into laughter, so all is 
 well," guffawed Desmond, returning. 
 
 *' Oh, what an ass I feel," groaned Mallory. *'And 
 what a heap of apologies I owe you all." 
 
 ** Oh, well, Mallory, I am sure that our anger is 
 tempered considerably by compassion," answered 
 Desmond. " A man who sees snakes is in a bad way, 
 my boy. I once heard of a Scotsman who used to see 
 flying Findon haddocks, but he was somewhat 
 alcoholic. Good night! " 
 
 ** Good night ! " added Gordon. '' Go to sleep and 
 forget it! " 
 
 " Oh, what an unmitigated ass I was," groaned 
 Mallory, burying his head in his pillow. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 The road from Dambulla to Kantalai Lake is, under 
 ordinary circumstances, rather a dull stretch. Except 
 for some small jheels near Dambulla, where snipe may- 
 be found, the road leads for most of the forty odd miles 
 through practically virgin jungle. There is a small 
 Rest House and a tiny village or two, but except for 
 the interest obtained by seeing the spoor of elephants 
 or the sight of a bear, pig, or leopard, the journey 
 grows monotonous. 
 
 With Jack Mallory at the steering wheel, however, 
 there was no room for sleepy monotony. Jack had 
 claimed Gordon's promise that he should drive when 
 the road became easy. The ladies and Desmond 
 occupied the tonneau. Peter hung on with all the 
 strength of one leg and an arm to the footboard, and 
 Gordon sat beside the driver. 
 
 It was soon obvious that Jack's powers were limited. 
 To this defect was added a culpable want of attention 
 to his duties which soon proved most alarming. To 
 all suggestions that he should retire from the honoured 
 post he gave no heed. If a mere bird suddenly flew 
 across the road his eyes and hands were everywhere 
 except with the steering wheel, and a lurch of the car 
 would follow which certainly allowed of no sleep. 
 
 For twenty miles or so, the car sped gaily onwards. 
 For the previous few minutes Gordon had been lulled 
 
 96 
 
CICEEY IN CEYLON 97 
 
 into a sense of safety by a marked improvement on 
 Mallory's part. But there is inevitably a calm before 
 a storm. The road at that point ran as straight as an 
 arrow for a couple of miles. Half way down this 
 stretch there appeared a dark object moving towards 
 them. 
 
 ''There is a water buffalo, probably a tame one," 
 said Gordon. " Blow your horn ! " 
 
 Jack obediently blew as directed. But had he known 
 more of the ways of the water buffalo his expectations 
 of any practical result following upon his repeated 
 footings would have been more modest. 
 
 Slowly the great beast, its black skin shining in the 
 sun like tanned leather, raised his head and glanced at 
 the car; as slowly he threw back his horns and 
 sauntered towards it; then paused and gazed. There 
 was room at the side of the road to pass. Before 
 Gordon could stop him, Mallory let go the brakes, 
 and the car sprang forward at the rate of thirty miles 
 an hour. 
 
 That being the exact moment chosen by the buffalo 
 to recross the road, the off wheel struck him on the 
 hind quarters with the thud of an ironclad. 
 
 Mallory had no time to ram down the brakes. He 
 didn't even realize the necessity for holding the steer- 
 ing wheel with all his strength. The great beast 
 didn't even fall, but the car, swerving at almost right 
 angles, rushed, unchecked, off the road, down six feet 
 of bank, and pulled up, snorting impotently, amidst 
 dense brushwood. 
 
 The buffalo, dangling one hind leg, remained 
 standing in the road watching with wonder-struck eyes 
 the strange thing that had hit him. Peter, rubbing 
 his nether parts, and in tears, rose slowly from the 
 
 G 
 
98 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 road, cursed the buffalo in some unknown tongue, and 
 limped painfully after the car. 
 
 The whole affair had been so sudden that there had 
 been no time for alarm. Everybody, except Peter, still 
 sat in their seats. Around them, and above, rose 
 impenetrable jungle. The engine raced madly, but 
 the car was jambed tight. 
 
 Gordon leaned across and stopped the engine. 
 
 " Anything wrong, Peter? " he shouted. 
 
 " Poor Peter has hurt himself, I'm afraid," 
 answered Margaret. '' He fell off in the road." 
 
 But Peter had already limped round to the front of 
 the car and was crawling about on his hands and 
 knees. 
 
 " Mudguard smashed and one tyre gone burst, 
 Master," groaned he. 
 
 " Humph! " grunted Gordon. '' If that is all, we 
 have been lucky. We must set to work at once and put 
 on our spare wheel. Lucky we have some emergency 
 rations with us, for I fear there is no hope of our seeing 
 Kantalai for many hours yet." 
 
 " I am dreadfully sorry," apologised Mallory. " I 
 thought there was heaps of room to pass the brute. 
 Ugh ! I'd like to shoot the black devil." 
 
 The situation was decidedly annoying, but, after all, 
 there was little damage done, and nobody hurt. 
 Presently Cicely broke into laughter. Mallory's 
 lugubrious face had started her off, and the others 
 caught the infection. Even Gordon saw the ridiculous 
 side of the episode, and chuckled between groans. 
 
 The men immediately set to with a will to unload the 
 car of everything. To replace the injured wheel would 
 not be difficult, but to get the car back on the road 
 would be a much more serious matter. Whilst Gordon 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 99 
 
 and Peter laboured at the wheel, the others unpacked 
 the food box and tea basket, and prepared tiffin. 
 Biscuits, tinned tongue, cheese, and wine there were 
 in plenty, and there was also a box of soda water. 
 
 Lunch was ready long before the repairs to the car 
 were completed. Birds of gay plumage fluttered 
 amongst the branches overhead. Chameleons and 
 green lizards of all shades of colour rushed through the 
 scrub. Margaret, who had wandered towards the 
 road, suddenly began to gesticulate excitedly. 
 
 " Oh, do come and look! " she cried. 
 
 From overhead was heard a wild chattering. From 
 tree to tree a whole herd of monkeys were springing 
 and calling to one another. From a branch over- 
 hanging the road, not a hundred yards away, they 
 dropped to the ground as if playing a game of follow- 
 my-leader. Here and there a baby monkey, with its 
 arms about its mother's back, hung beneath the latter 
 as she jumped thirty feet to the road. Peter, with a 
 grin, sounded the syren. In an instant the whole 
 herd was scampering, helter-skelter, down the middle 
 of the road, and disappeared into the jungle. 
 
 By the time tiffin was eaten and the car ready, it 
 was past three o'clock. The task of running the car 
 up the steep incline to the road was now attempted. 
 With a man upon each wheel, and the engine at its 
 best, they heaved and sweated until exhaustion over- 
 came them utterly. 
 
 For about half-way up the bank the car went 
 beautifully, but there it stuck. Desmond and Mallory 
 had never until then realized what perspiration in the 
 Tropics could mean. With the aid of levers and brute 
 force they at last gained, inch by inch, another foot. 
 Then, whilst the others were drinking soda water with 
 
100 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 unquenchable thirst, Peter cut away the bank. 
 Another mighty heave, altogether, and the deed was 
 done. 
 
 It was by that time within an hour of sunset. 
 Rapidly they loaded the car again with the impedi- 
 menta, and Gordon took the wheel. Desmond 
 loaded a rifle, and occupied the other front seat, 
 Mallory being brutally informed that he was con- 
 sidered safer in the tonneau. The prospect of 
 getting a shot at something before dark was very 
 probable. 
 
 Amidst the shadows of the jungle the narrow road 
 rapidly darkened. The sunset effects, illumining 
 the narrow streak of heavens visible between the tree 
 lines, were indescribably wonderful. Then, with 
 almost the rapidity of a descending curtain, the dark- 
 ness fell. 
 
 Peter slipped down and lit the acetylene lamps. 
 The great cones of light appeared strangely weird in 
 that silent jungle. Never could they have imagined 
 such a scene. It seemed like the gigantic limelight 
 of a theatre directed upon the forest of the " Babes 
 in the Wood " or " The Sleeping Beauty." 
 
 " Keep your eyes open and you may see some- 
 thing," said Gordon. " This part of the country is 
 alive with big game, and they often become attracted 
 by the light." 
 
 He had hardly spoken, when, across the road, 
 slunk what, in the distance, looked like a great cat. 
 It paused in the light as if dazed, and then cantered 
 away straight before them, not two hundred yards in 
 front of the car. 
 
 "Quick!" whispered Gordon. *' It's a panther. 
 Put a bullet into him if you can." 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON loi 
 
 Cicely and Margaret were too excited to speak, 
 and Mallory, his sporting instincts at fullest tension, 
 ceased to breathe. But Desmond was quite ready. 
 With a steady aim, he fired. 
 
 The panther, with a wild bound, sprangr forward. 
 Mallory gave a whoop of delight. But his joy was 
 premature, for the next instant the animal disappeared 
 into the shadows. 
 
 They stopped the car at the spot, and searched 
 with one of the lamps for some distance. Of tracks 
 of blood there were plenty, but not a further sign of 
 the panther was to be seen. Mallory, seizing a rifle, 
 was prepared to track the animal by means of one of 
 the lamps through the jungle, but Gordon would 
 have none of it. 
 
 "Oh dear!" sighed Margaret. '* I felt for a few 
 minutes as if I was in the Zoo with all the tiger cages 
 open !" 
 
 ** I was too excited to think at all," cried Cicely. 
 ** I do hope we will see something else. What a 
 shame you didn't get him, Mr. Cleeve. What a 
 splendid trophy his skin would have made." 
 
 The car resumed its journey, and for some time 
 there was comparative silence. After the recent ex- 
 perience, everybody was on the qui vive, watching 
 the long streaks of light with staring eyes. 
 
 The road turned slightly. Gordon slowed down. 
 
 ** I don't like running too fast in the dark. One 
 may come across another buffalo or something," said 
 he, blowing the horn. " What is that black thing 
 now? — on the edge of the road — it looks like a cow." 
 
 Slowly they drew nearer. The horn had certainly 
 been heard by the beast, whatever it was, but it 
 seemed to be not in the least intimidated. When' 
 
102 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 the car had approached to within less than a couple 
 of hundred yards it lolloped into the light. 
 
 Instantly Gordon pulled the car to a standstill. 
 "By Jove!" he explained. "A good old brown 
 bear! We seem to be in wonderful luck to-night." 
 ''There are two of them," whispered Desmond. 
 "Shall I fire?" 
 
 " No, wait a moment. Wait until both of thejn 
 are in the light. Bears are never frightened by 
 motor horns one little bit. They won't run yet." 
 
 "They are sitting on their haunches looking at 
 us," whispered Mallory. 
 
 " I rather think they are coming to inspect us," 
 laughed Gordon softly. " Give me that other rifle, 
 Mallory." 
 
 The bears nonchalantly wandered up the road. 
 Curiosity and a natural tendency to keep within the 
 zone of light made them an easy prey. 
 
 Together, Desmond and Gordon took aim, waiting 
 until the lolloping animals were within less than a 
 hundred yards. 
 
 Almost simultaneously their shots rang out. 
 The bigger of the two, hit by Desmond's shot, 
 rolled over in the middle of the road and lay like a 
 great furry log of wood. The other seemed to pause 
 in indecision, and then, with a roar, rushed straight 
 at the car. 
 
 Margaret gave a little scream of. alarm. But the 
 danger was slight. Against two rifles the clumsy 
 beast had no chance. Gordon fired his second barrel, 
 and Bruin fell forward on his face without a struggle. 
 The work of strapping the two heavy carcasses 
 upon the kiggage behind was soon accomplished. 
 The coats of the bears were in excellent condition. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 103 
 
 The men were delighted with their success, and the 
 ladies had experienced an adventure in which they 
 had never dreamed of participating. 
 
 ** There will be a bear skin for your drawing-room, 
 Miss Cleeve," said Gordon. " And if you are 
 good, Cicely, I have no doubt that Mr. Cleeve will 
 give you the other.*' 
 
 ** In that case it is mine already," said Cicely, 
 promptly. ** My goodness is beyond dispute." 
 
 ''Humph! We'll see," replied Gordon as he 
 freed the brakes. *' I shall be the judge." 
 
 Desmond laughed. 
 
 " Good intentions are half the battle," he replied. 
 ** The skin is yours." 
 
 " Thank you," she answered. *' I like people to 
 read my thoughts — some people." 
 
 ** I wish I could read them," whispered Mallory. 
 
 ** I said some people, not all people," she retorted 
 severely. 
 
 Mallory, retreating into his shell, grunted to him- 
 self. A few minutes later the great lake of Kantalai 
 appeared on their left. There was no moon as yet, 
 but, after the many hours in the depths of the jungle, 
 its broad watery expanse was most refreshing to the 
 eye. 
 
 A great wall of granite, shaded by trees and 
 covered with vegetation, ran for a mile on the left of 
 the road. This bund, built in the year 275 A.D., 
 by a Cingalese king, forming, as it did, the first link 
 in a great system of irrigation, is still one of the 
 wonders of Ceylon. 
 
 The prospect of duck and snipe shooting, which 
 this lake of twenty miles in circumference promised 
 for the morrow, had raised Mallory's spirits to fever 
 
104 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 pitch. For the last mile before the Rest House was 
 reached he was irrepressible, and even Cicely's stern 
 remarks were of no avail in squashing him. 
 
 The Rest House keeper, having been warned by 
 wire, had been expecting the party for an hour past. 
 The bedrooms and great living-room opened on to 
 a broad stone verandah facing the lake, and the view 
 across the water was superb. 
 
 Their meal that evening was gayer even than 
 usual. The events of the day had been varied and 
 exciting. Dangers passed in safety had but added 
 to the zest of enjoyment. Gordon declared that 
 " bubbly wine " must be drunk to the health of the 
 mighty hunters who had killed the bears. As there 
 was a case of champagne in the car, that duty was 
 easily performed, and after their fatigues everybody 
 felt the better for it. 
 
 " There is one thing that you must be careful about 
 here," said Gordon. "You must sleep under 
 mosquito curtains. Being so near the lake, this place 
 is alive with mosquitos. And you ladies will do well 
 to either wear two pairs of stockings, or put paper 
 beneath your stockings. Mosquitos cannot get 
 through double stockings as a rule, because to do so 
 the proboscis must turn a corner, which it cannot 
 easily do. Nor can they get through paper. You 
 will soon have no ankles left if you don't do some- 
 thing. Besides, I don't want you to get malaria, 
 which I suppose you know is given you by the bite 
 of a certain kind of mosquito. That reminds me, 
 Jackson yesterday told me an amusing tale of a 
 planter, near him, who has been giving his coolies 
 preventive doses of quinine. It appears that as he 
 doled out the weekly pay to his coolies he handed 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 105 
 
 each man a quinine tabloid, which he was obliged 
 to swallow. As he paid out the money, he was so 
 occupied with counting the coins that he didn't 
 bother to look at the men as they filed before him. 
 Later in the day, one of the coolies was taken 
 seriously ill, and was so collapsed that the nearest dis- 
 trict doctor was sent for. On being asked what he 
 had given the man, the planter replied that he had 
 only given him five grains of quinine. The doctor 
 couldn't believe it, and, after resuscitating the coolie 
 with great dif^culty, he questioned the latter. 
 It appeared that the coolie had been asked by 
 ten others to collect their pay for them, and, in order 
 not to offend the peculiar wishes of ' master,' had 
 swallowed his ten doses of quinine like a hero." 
 
 ** Ripping!" cried Mallory. 
 
 **You have learned a lot to-day, Mr. Mallory," 
 said Cicely. '' I am sure your father will be de- 
 lighted with you when you return home." 
 
 ** That won't be yet, anyway," retorted Mallory, 
 finishing his champagne. " This life suits me down 
 to the ground." 
 
 *' Well," said Margaret, suppressing a yawn, ''I, 
 for one, intend to have a late morning in bed 
 to-morrow. I suppose you will all be out after duck, 
 or something, before we see you again." 
 
 " I have told the Rest House keeper to call us men 
 at six," said Gordon. " So I advise bed at once." 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 When Cicely sauntered on to the verandah in the 
 cool of the morning, the shooting party had already 
 been gone an hour. Margaret was still in bed. 
 
 A native boat, a couple of miles away, nearing the 
 far side of the lake, was the only sign of human habit- 
 ation within sight. Cicely, dangling her pith topee 
 from her arm, shaded her eyes with her hand and 
 watched the boat. Presently, a puff of smoke shot 
 forth from the latter, and the echo of a shot reached 
 her. She rather wished she had gone with the boat. 
 Evidently they were already amongst the duck. 
 
 There was scarcely a cloud in the sky. A faint 
 breeze, here and there, caught the glassy surface of 
 the lake. The hund, lined with trees, which they' 
 had passed the night before, ran along on the left as 
 far as she could see. From where she stood no road 
 was visible. The Rest House, situated twenty feet 
 above the lake, commanded a view that would have 
 served as a setting for fairy land. No sound but the 
 twittering of tiny birds and the plaintive cries of teal 
 rising from the lake disturbed the hum of the jungle. 
 
 Dressed in a white sTiirt and collar, and a white* 
 drill skirt with blue tie and waistband, the girl looked 
 as dainty and fresh as the morning itself. Smil- 
 ing with enjoyment of her surroundings, she 
 picked up a novel, and wandered towards a 
 great rock which rose from the fringe of 
 
 io6 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 107 
 
 the lake. Beneath the branches of a tamarind tree 
 she chose a place in a cleft of the rock from where 
 she could keep the boat in view. 
 
 For a long time the unheeded book lay open on her 
 lap. The atmosphere was momentarily growing 
 warmer, but now and again the breeze from off the 
 water indolently rustled the leaves overhead. Two 
 lizards, shimmeringly green, chased one another up 
 the tree trunk. A brace of blue rock pigeons fled 
 wildly lakewards. Behind the bungalow, she caught 
 a glimpse of a dozen chattering coolies. They w^ere 
 just starting off, with their customary half-running 
 gait, beneath the burdens of the carcasses of the 
 bears. The latter were to be skinned at Trincomalee, 
 and the skins sent back to Gordon's estate. 
 
 The book, which was a specially interesting one, 
 at last claimed her attention. For half an hour or 
 more she was so enthralled that she started up in sur- 
 prise as Jack Mallory's voice called to her from the 
 lake. His boat was already quite near the landing 
 rock. 
 
 '* Hullo! You are back very soon," cried she. 
 "Where are the others?" 
 
 ** I've come back so as to fire upon those flocks of 
 teal you see out there, and drive them across to the 
 others. They are all settling on this side, and' our 
 only decent chance is to get them between two fires." 
 
 He sprang from the little dug-out, and, climbing 
 the rock, threw himself at her feet. 
 
 ** But I thought you had come back to chivvy the 
 teal," she said, presently. 
 
 Mallory stretched his long legs, slowly wiped his 
 heated forehead, and glanced up at her face. 
 
 " So I am," he answered. " There is no hurry." 
 
io8 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 " Oh," murmured Cicely, apparently resuming 
 her reading. 
 
 "Mayn't I talk for a little while?" he asked 
 humbly. 
 
 For a few moments she softly hummed a tune. 
 Mallory, content to study her profile and catch 
 glances of her eyes beneath her lashes, waited 
 patiently. 
 
 " Wouldn't you like to be able to write a book?" 
 she asked, looking up at last. " Just imagine if one 
 could portray a place like this on paper so that other 
 people could see it. Think of the difference between 
 this sunny scene and a London fog, for instance ! X 
 dare say there is a fog in London now. Thoughts 
 come into my head that I should love to write 
 down, if I only knew how to express them. Don't 
 you feel like that, ever?" 
 
 " M'yes, sometimes," admitted Jack doubtfully. 
 Then his face brightened, and he looked admiringly 
 at Cicely's figure leaning against the tree 
 trunk. " I think I would rather be an artist. I 
 would paint you sitting as you are now." He hesi- 
 tated, and his face flushed. " You can't imagine how 
 ripping you look this morning." 
 
 Cicely's eyes danced with mischievous laughter. 
 She looked up enquiringly from a study of her 
 fingers, but, as she caught his ardent gaze, her eyes 
 again fell. 
 
 •' I wonder," said she thoughtfully, " how many 
 other girls you have said the same sort of thing 
 to." 
 
 " I never did — not in earnest, at all events,'* 
 asserted Mallory heatedly. "I never meant — " 
 Cicely sprang hurriedly to her feet and laughed' 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 109 
 
 lightly. '* What does it matter, anyhow? " she cried. 
 ** Come and scare those teal. Look! The lake is 
 full of them, quite close to shore." 
 
 Mallory reluctantly climbed to his feet. Cicely 
 was already a dozen yards away. He picked up his 
 gun and followed her along the bund. 
 
 " You will never reach those with a shot gun, will 
 you?" she asked. 
 
 "I can with a rifle. Til get one from the Rest 
 House." 
 
 From a point, a hundred yards further along, a 
 clean shot at the floating duck would be an easy 
 matter. Cicely seated herself upon a convenient log 
 and waited. In half a minute Mallory followed her. 
 
 " I never did — really," continued he. 
 
 ''Quick!" whispered Cicely, ignoring his remark. 
 " You'll catch them beautifully now, and there is 
 the boat across the lake waiting for you to begin." 
 
 Mallory grunted, but loaded the double-barrelled 
 rifle automatically. To continue his argument just 
 then w^as palpably impossible. Lying behind the 
 log, he took careful aim and fired. The bullet hit 
 the water within a few yards on the near side of the 
 teal. With a frightened screeching, the flock of a 
 hundred birds rose and sailed towards the far side of 
 the lake. Four shots in rapid succession burst from 
 Desmond and Gordon in the boat. The duck at once 
 circled and returned to their original rendezvous 
 amidst some weeds. 
 
 '' Fire again!" cried Cicely excitedly . 
 
 " Would you like to ? " asked Mallory. 
 
 '* Yes, rather! I have never fired a rifle, but I 
 would like to immensely. May I?" 
 
 ''Yes, here vou are. Lie down here and rest the 
 
no CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 rifle on the log. I have already sighted it. Aim this 
 side of them, and hold the rifle tight to your shoulder, 
 so that it doesn't kick and hurt you." 
 
 Cicely followed his directions with alacrity. Sitting 
 beside her, he shewed her how to hold her hands, his 
 eyes following every movement. 
 
 She hurriedly pulled the trigger. The bullet flew 
 high, but the birds sailed away just the same. 
 Cicely's eyes shone with delight. 
 
 " Do let me try again," cried she. 
 
 " I must get some more cartridges first. But in 
 any case there is no hurry," replied he. "I want to 
 say that what I told you just now was quite different." 
 
 " Oh, do look at that thing like a log moving out 
 there ! What is it? " interrupted she. 
 
 " Oh, only a log, I expect," he answered, 
 impatiently. " Look here, Miss Rosmead, you must 
 listen to me. I must explain." 
 
 Cicely's eyes opened widely. She leaned on her 
 elbow and surveyed Mallory's heated countenance 
 with surprise. Her mouth quivered suspiciously, 
 but for a second only. 
 
 "Good gracious!" she exclaimed. "Haven't I 
 been attentively listening to every word for the last 
 half hour? What is it now? " 
 
 Upon Mallory's face there was no vestige of amuse- 
 ment. His eyes dropped, but determination filled his 
 voice. Cicely, beneath her lashes, w^atched him 
 furtively. 
 
 " You accuse me of being insincere and — er — it isn't 
 fair," he mumbled. 
 
 " Oh I dare say you are sincere enough for the 
 moment," admitted Cicely. "A little flirtation now 
 and again is good for boys, I suppose." She paused, 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON in 
 
 and meditatively discharged the empty cartridge case 
 from the rifle. '' But as I have given up flirting for 
 — oh — quite a long time now, I am afraid I was not — 
 well — particularly interested, f am sorry if I appeared 
 rude." 
 
 *' Oh, but look here. Miss Cicely — you know that 
 isn't fair. I have never flirted with you. To flirt 
 means to merely play at being in love. I never meant 
 to play at all. I— " 
 
 *' Oh, there it is again, moving," cried Cicely, 
 springing up. *' Do run and get some more 
 cartridges." 
 
 **Damn!" ejaculated iMallory beneath his breath. 
 He rose slowly to his feet and turned towards the 
 bungalow. 
 
 Cicely's lips quivered humorously. The Rest House 
 keeper appeared on the verandah, and pointing 
 indolently at the floating, log-like animal in the water, 
 laconically muttered — '' Crocodile." 
 
 In another minute Mallory reappeared, and with 
 him Margaret. 
 
 "Good morning, Meg!" called Cicely. "Come 
 and see me shoot a crocodile I " 
 
 The crocodile's snout could be seen, just above 
 the water, slowly swimming towards the shore. 
 Except for the movement, it looked exactly like a 
 dark log. 
 
 " If you hit him, you'll never get him," said 
 Mallory dejectedly. " The Rest House man says they 
 always sink to the bottom." 
 
 Insisting upon loading the rifle herself, Cicely took 
 steady aim and fired. The bullet struck the water 
 close to the beast. He was not even hit, but he sank 
 like a stone, and did not show himself again. 
 
112 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 "Here comes the boat," said Margaret, "and 
 breakfast is ready." 
 
 Together, they went down the rock to meet thef 
 boat. Mallory was distinctly glum. Even Margaret, 
 who could only guess at a reason, failed to elicit more 
 than monosyllabic answers to her remarks. Cicely, 
 sublimely unconscious of any rift within the serenity 
 of her usual surroundings, softly whistled a catchy 
 air from "The Arcadians" and, arm in arm with 
 Margaret, met the boat. 
 
 " Seven brace of teal, four brace of pigeon, 
 and a dozen brace of snipe," announced Gordon. 
 " We captured the latter in a jheel across the 
 lake." 
 
 " I want a whisky and soda," grunted Desmond. 
 " And that right quickly." 
 
 " Come along then," cried Cicely gaily. " I'll get 
 it for you. The least that we poor women can do is 
 to serve the wants of the mighty hunters on their 
 return from the chase. I am quite proud of myself 
 this morning. Mr. Mallory taught me to shoot with 
 a rifle. I frightened at least one hundred ducks, and 
 one huge crocodile." 
 
 Desmond picked up his gun, slung half a dozen 
 brace of teal across his shoulder, and, as he stepped 
 ashore and his glance met hers, he smiled 
 unconsciously. 
 
 " You don't look as if you would willingly frighten 
 even a crocodile," said he. Walking by her side, he 
 slowly led the way towards the bungalow. " You 
 look this morning—" he hesitated, and then suddenly 
 relapsed into silence. 
 
 " Well?" asked Cicely. 
 
 " Nothing," he murmured lamely. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 113 
 
 *' It is rude to refuse to answer a lady,'* she insisted 
 with a moue, 
 
 ** Well, if you must know, I was on the point of 
 saying that you were looking — particularly charming 
 this morning." 
 
 Cicely's eyes opened in wonder. ** Good gracious! 
 A compliment — from you — you, who have forgotten 
 how to flirt." She laughed merrily. " I am sure 
 you must be over-tired, or something. Do come and 
 have that whisky and soda. But — " she hesitated 
 — " thank you all the same. Little girls sometimes 
 like compliments, even from staid old men." 
 
 " I will remember, for future reference," replied 
 Desmond with a smile. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 After tiffin, Mallory, who had managed to find a 
 guide, elected to go across the lake in search of big 
 game. The fact that he would be entirely alone 
 seemed to please him. It was not natural to him to 
 court solitude, but it was quite obvious to all who 
 cared to read that his mind was by no means in its 
 normal state. Both Gordon and Desmond refused to 
 join him, and advised snipe; but he wouldn't listen. 
 
 When the afternoon had grown somewhat cooler, 
 the others departed down the road in the direction of 
 some marshes which they had noticed as they arrived 
 the day before. Cicely, having become possessed of 
 the spirit of sport, bemoaned her let loudly. In the 
 clothes at her disposal, Gordon absolutely refused to 
 allow her to wade with him through the mud and water 
 after snipe. Margaret and she, therefore, had to 
 content themselves with watching from the dry 
 'vantage ground of the cart road. 
 
 There was no lack of sport. Both Gordon and 
 Desmond were excellent shots, and for a time their 
 guns levied death almost as fast as they could load 
 them. The two coolies that they had brought from 
 the Rest House were kept hard pressed, up to their 
 waists in water, recovering the birds as they fell. 
 Desmond, who had been accustomed to snipe shooting 
 in Ireland, was astonished at the comparative ease 
 with which he could bring down his birds. 
 
 It was almost dark when they reached the bungalow 
 114 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 115 
 
 again. Mallory had not yet returned. The men 
 refused to wait dinner for him. But thev had hardly 
 sat down to the meal before a sing-song of coolies and 
 a loud shout from Mallory brought them hurriedly to 
 the verandah. 
 
 Mallory's beautiful up-to-date shooting suit was 
 caked with mud, and he was tired to death. But, 
 amidst the excited account of his adventures which he 
 poured into his ears, they gathered that he had shot 
 a bear, face to face, and was as happy as a hunter 
 could possibly be. The coolies deposited the great 
 carcass upon the verandah for inspection. It was a 
 good size, and the coat was long and thick. 
 
 ''There!" exclaimed Jack proudly. ''So now, 
 Miss Rosmead, you shall have your skin, whether you 
 are good or not. You can defy your uncle with 
 impunity." 
 
 '*Oh, but I couldn't," said Cicely hastily. 
 " Besides, I feel quite sure of getting Mr. Cleeve's, 
 you see. The conditions are so very easy." Her 
 eyes softened and a strange air of shyness seemed to 
 possess her " It is very good of you to offer it to me 
 all the same, Mr. Mallory. Thank you so much!" 
 
 When Cicely was overcome by what Margaret 
 described as " a sweetly polite earnestness," her eyes 
 assumed such a pathetic appeal that the latter said she 
 always longed to hug her. Presumably it was the 
 same sensation as is produced in the heart of a woman 
 who, upon seeing a particularly delightful baby, 
 rushes upon it and kisses it enthusiastically. 
 
 It was plainly apparent that Cicely was anxious to 
 avoid hurting Jack's feelings, whilst at the same time 
 she did not wish to accept his offering of devotion. 
 Self-possessed as she usually was, there were moments 
 
ii6 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 when she was so painfully afflicted by a sense of 
 shyness that words failed her. Desmond, who had 
 been silently absorbing the little scene, thought that 
 he had never seen her look more adorable. 
 
 " Now then, you two," called Gordon from within. 
 "When you have finished wrangling, perhaps you 
 will come to dinner." 
 
 Jack's spirits had suddenly dropped to zero, and he 
 silently marched off to wash. The others resumed 
 their interrupted meal. 
 
 The subject of the bearskin was not referred to 
 again that night. Desmond led the conversation 
 towards Trinco', where they were due by tiffin time 
 on the morrow. 
 
 " Can we get some sort of sail boat there, 
 Gordon? " he asked. *' Because I intend to explore 
 the harbour, if it is feasible." 
 
 "Yes," replied Gordon, "I think I can promise 
 you that. I suppose you know that it is one of thd 
 first five harbours in the world. There is splendid 
 fishing, too. I wish the pearl fishery was on in Ceylon 
 this year, but it has been closed for several years now. 
 It is carried on at a place on the west coast, but at 
 present the place would be quite deserted, and not 
 worth a visit. When, however, the news goes forth 
 that there is to be a fishery, it wakes up with wonder- 
 ful rapidity. Some of the divers come from as far off 
 as the Persian Gulf. The fishery is now leased from 
 the Ceylon Government by a company. People go 
 there for the few weeks of the fishery, and build, or 
 hire at enormous rates, huts to live in. Small private 
 syndicates from Colombo invest a sum of rupees, 
 which is generally entrusted to one of their number 
 who has decided to visit the scene of action. The 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 117 
 
 divers' boats go out each day, and the oysters are 
 brought up in thousands. These are taken ashore, 
 piled into heaps, and auctioned there and then. You 
 can buy a thousand oysters for a few rupees. The 
 oysters are allowed to rot, and the purchasers may 
 score a good haul of pearls, — or nothing ! The smell 
 of the rotting oysters is not exactly like attar of roses. 
 I have never had a shot myself, but I am informed 
 that small syndicates generally manage to save them- 
 selves, even if they don't make anything. The 
 pearls, when found, can be easily sold to native stone 
 merchants." 
 
 '' I would like to have a gamble at that," said 
 Desmond. 
 
 '' So would I," cried Cicely. '' But I wouldn't sell 
 the pearls. I would wear them." 
 
 " Humph ! " murmured Gordon. " If you are very 
 good — better even than is necessary to earn a bear skin 
 — you may be able to wear some later on. There are 
 plenty of pearls in Ceylon, although there is no 
 fishing this year. Let me see ; on what day did you 
 say you would be a woman ? It is surely a very long 
 time off yet, isn't it? " 
 
 *'Oh dear!" sighed Cicely plaintively. "These 
 tests of goodness are becoming too awful. But I must 
 really try hard for this one. Uncle Gerald. It is quite 
 a short time, now. I hope I shall last. I do love 
 pearls." 
 
 Gordon chuckled. 
 
 "It is all very fine to laugh," continued Cicely, 
 " but the test is not without danger. Good people are 
 notoriously liable to early death." 
 
 "I'll risk it in your case!" grunted Gordon, 
 smiling. 
 
ii8 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 "Then there is the subsequent reaction to be 
 considered," said Desmond. " I hope the strain will 
 not drive you to awful wickedness afterwards.'* 
 
 Cicely's eyes danced dangerously, but she laughed 
 sweetly. "I won't promise," she said, "as to 
 what may come after. That will depend upon 
 circumstances." 
 
 " Well," intervened Margaret, " for the present I 
 advise bed. Cicely." ^ 
 
 One by one they followed the girls to the verandah. 
 The bedrooms, infiltrated by the night breeze, opened 
 towards the lake. Within half an hour, the bungalow 
 was absolutely still. Only the croaking of frogs and the 
 snoring of a coolie in the compound competed with 
 the hum of the jungle. The lake was bathed in moon- 
 light, and the shadows of a thousand years outlined 
 its borders. 
 
 The road to Trincomalee, after leaving the neigh- 
 bourhood of Kantalai lake, emerged rapidly from the 
 jungle. The country soon opened out, and signs of 
 cultivation and human influence took up the story. 
 
 The distance being only twenty-six miles, Gordon 
 saw no reason for haste. Despite its natural 
 advantages of harbour, Trincomalee had never been 
 able to compete with Colombo as a port. Eastern- 
 bound ships easily slip into Colombo, whereas 
 Trinco' is out of the way. Also, except for fish, there 
 is practically no trade. Even the military garrison 
 has been removed, and the old forts, built by the 
 Dutch, dismantled. 
 
 Although they started fairly early, the heat soon 
 began to assert itself. The hot air seemed to rise from 
 the ground like the blast from a bake oven. The sky 
 was almost cloudless. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 119 
 
 Amidst open glades and shady roads the car sped 
 smoothly onwards. Presently a glimpse of the harbour 
 appeared through the trees. Native dwellings and 
 fishing boats quickly followed. The vista of island- 
 bedecked water su'ddenly became superb, and the road 
 ran along by the water's edge. There was still a naval 
 rendezvous at Trincomalee, where at certain times the 
 ships of the East Indies squadron indulged in big jSfun 
 practice, and spent some six weeks in harbour. There 
 was no railway within sixty-eight miles. 
 
 There were no warships in the harbour, so Gordon 
 sped along the shore-road and entered the beautiful 
 grounds of Admiralty House. Facing the back 
 harbour, this residence is beautifully situated. 
 
 Passing the house itself, Gordon stopped the car 
 beside an enormous banyan tree which looked like a 
 miniature forest. 
 
 "The largest banyan *tree in the world outside of 
 Calcutta, I believe," said he. " Look at those big 
 trunks on the outside. They are quite as big as the 
 parent one. I don't know the age of the tree, but it 
 must be many hundreds of years old." 
 
 Between the two harbours is a point of land. Gordon 
 turned and, wending his way slowly through the hot 
 streets, entered the Rest House compound. 
 
 An aged Tamil man of small stature, with nut- 
 cracker jaws, ran out to meet them. His manner was 
 almost courtly as he bowed and welcomed his guests. 
 
 " Permit me to introduce ' Tamby,' " said Gordon. 
 
 The old man salaamed profoundly, his eyes 
 twinkling with pleasure. 
 
 " Tamby," explained Gordon, " has lived here for 
 more years than any two of us can equal. He is as 
 well known as the Governor, and the fame of his 
 
120 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 hostelry is advertised wherever the navy sails the seas. 
 Inside, Tamby will no doubt introduce you to his 
 gallery of portraits. Every admiral, governor and 
 general of Ceylon has for years presented his auto- 
 graphed photo to the collection. Isn't that so, 
 Tamby?" 
 
 The old man, whose son in the background must 
 have been somewhere over fifty, became filled with 
 immediate zeal. He led the way into a large room, 
 which, filled with long cane chairs and tables, was 
 practically one with the verandah. The gallery of 
 portraits occupied the walls of the sitting-room. It 
 was certainly an interesting collection ; and Tamby 's 
 eulogies upon the recipients were decidedly refreshing. 
 
 Now that there was no car movement to create a 
 breeze, the heat of the place began to make itself felt 
 most potently. Sitting in peace beneath the great 
 punkahs, all was well, but walking was another 
 matter. 
 
 After tiffin, they decided to stop where they were 
 until the sun had dropped somewhat. There were the 
 forts to be visited, and Desmond was already 
 arranging with Tamby for the loan of a boat. 
 
 The little compound of the Rest House was never 
 dull. Native peddlers of every variety haunted the 
 place like flies. Their wares ran through a multitude 
 of commodities, from rugs and brass work to live 
 tortoises. The latter, which varied in size from a 
 cheese plate to almost as small as a five shilling piece, 
 filled Margaret and Cicely with the lust of possession. 
 But Gordon warned them that, up-country, the little 
 beasts would almost certainly die. 
 
/ 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 The time passed so rapidly that they were surprised 
 when Peter and the motor arrived from the garage. 
 
 ''There are two forts, both now absolutely 
 deserted," explained Gordon. " There seems no hope 
 under the present home government of their being 
 reoccupied, but Ceylon still hopes against hope. The 
 Ceylon garrison has been cut down to a mere handful 
 of Artillery and Engineers, and the British regiment 
 replaced by an Indian native one. The alarmists 
 continually preach concerning the madness of leaving 
 Trinco' undefended, and German tourists visit the 
 forts constantly. Still the Admiralty are unconvinced 
 of its strategical importance. There is nothing to be 
 seen at Fort Ostenburg, but from the Saami rock at 
 Fort Frederick there is a view of the Bay of Bengal 
 that I defy you to beat anywhere." 
 
 The distance to the fort was very short. The motor 
 ran through the ancient Dutch gates, unchallenged, 
 and pulled up in the open square within. On all sides 
 were large stone buildings with verandahs. There 
 was a silence as of the grave. On the far side, nearest 
 the sea, Gordon pointed out what once was the officers' 
 mess buildings. 
 
 " I have spent several festive nights in there, in the 
 old days," said he. '' Being far away, as they were, 
 from the military headquarters at Colombo, the little 
 
 121 
 
122 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 garrison here was a home of hon camaraderie and 
 peace. I am not saying that Colombo is not the same, 
 but this is a different atmosphere, a different world, far 
 from the madding crowd. Civilization has almost lost 
 its trammelled sway in this out-of-the-world spot. Now, 
 as you see, all is dead. Whether the British bugles 
 will ever again sound reveille in this fort, or not, is a 
 question. It looks to me as if the last post has for 
 the last time echoed amongst the cliffs and bastions. 
 I take an interest in these things because I was 
 originally destined for the army, and am even now an 
 officer in the Volunteer Planters' Corps. I went to 
 South Africa with them.'^ 
 
 Walking up an incline, they passed a commodious 
 building which was originally the military hospital. 
 Beyond this, climbing a steep path, half-overgrown 
 with weeds, they reached the top of the ramparts. 
 Below them lay the deserted gun bastions. The path, 
 turning to the right, led onwards past a long building, 
 consisting of a row of small rooms, each with its little 
 door opening on to a verandah. 
 
 " The old military cells," explained Gordon. '* You 
 can see the orders for the provost guard still standing 
 on the walls." 
 
 A native, carrying a slate, ran nimbly up the path 
 and accosted Gordon. Upon the slate was a notice, 
 written in English, warning foreigners against 
 inspecting the fort. 
 
 "Go away!" said Gordon irritably, in Tamil. 
 " Imagine," added he to Desmond, "the usefulness 
 of sending an English order by the hands of a native 
 to warn off foreigners ! As if there was anything to 
 see, either! I only wish there was." 
 
 The coolie, an employee of the Engineers, had 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 123 
 
 already departed. His official conscience was easily 
 satisfied. Life was short, and sleep very restful. 
 
 Suddenly they arrived at the edge of a precipice. 
 Upon the right rose a rock, surmounted by a pillar of 
 stone, that formed the summit of the cliff upon which 
 they stood. Below them, at a distance of some three 
 hundred feet, the ocean beat tumultuously against the 
 impenetrable rock. From the dizzy height one looked 
 straight across the open Bay of Bengal towards India. 
 On the right lay the promontory of land between the 
 two harbours, and, beyond this, the back harbour, 
 with its wooded islands and glistening waters 
 irradiated by the sinking sun. 
 
 ''This," explained Gordon, "is the celebrated 
 Saami Rock. There was a native temple here once. 
 The Portuguese destroyed it, but now the natives 
 again come here at certain seasons to perform their 
 religious rites. That pillar, according to the guide 
 books, was one of the pillars of the old heathen temple. 
 If we climb up you will be interested to read what is 
 written upon it." 
 
 The pinnacle of rock was only a few feet above^ 
 where they stood. The girls easily reached the summit, 
 and the others followed. 
 
 Cicely arrived first, and began to spell out an 
 inscription which was upon the pillar. It was in 
 Dutch, but the lettering was easily decipherable— 
 
 ''TOT GEDACTENIS 
 
 VAN FRANCINA VAN REEDE 
 
 luf VAN MYDREGT DESEN 
 
 A 1687 : 24 APRIL 
 
 OPGEREGT." 
 
124 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 " What does it mean ? " she cried, looking down at 
 her iincle. 
 
 Gordon paused to draw breath, and slowly lit a 
 cigarette. The others had already found convenient 
 resting-places, and were feasting their eyes upon the 
 wonderful panorama of ocean and islands. 
 
 ** Francina Van Reede was a Dutch girl who lived 
 here in 1687. She loved an officer in the Dutch 
 garrison, but one day he deserted her, and sailed 
 away to Europe. She came to this spot to see the 
 last of his ship, and she watched until it had dis- 
 appeared seawards. Then she threw herself in 
 despair from this rock, down, three hundred feet, into 
 the sea below." 
 
 " What a brute! *' ejaculated Mallory feelingly. 
 
 ** Poor girl!" murmured Cicely. "I wonder if 
 her spirit haunts the place still. Do you think it 
 does?" 
 
 Standing upright with her arm about the pillar, her 
 eyes focussed upon the distant horizon, Cicely herself 
 might have been sketched as the very maiden in 
 question. Her face was gravely thoughtful and her 
 lissom figure, silhouetted against the skyline, would 
 have served as a model for the most captious artist. 
 
 "That is an unanswerable question, I fear," said 
 Margaret, " but if it does, it will at all events find a few 
 sympathetic spirits here at present." 
 
 ** I wonder what sort of a life a girl led here in 
 those days, and how old she was? " continued Cicely, 
 still looking seawards. 
 
 *' I give it up," answered Gordon. " The life here 
 then was probably pretty much the same as now, from 
 day to day. Their clothes were different, and there 
 were no telegraphs, but they were no more cut-off from 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 125 
 
 other big places in Ceylon than we would be now 
 without a motor." 
 
 •' But don't you think they were? " asked Margaret. 
 " I imagine that in those days the inhabitants of 
 Trincomalee probably only travelled by sea. At all 
 events, we know that it took a ship perhaps three 
 months or more to get here from Europe. News came 
 only at intervals of several months. Imagine waiting 
 in the harbour to board a vessel from home when one 
 had had no news for months and months. Think of 
 the possible news ! Marriages, and engagements, and 
 deaths, and goodness knows what else. I should have 
 been afraid to open my letters. There could have been 
 no previous warning of bad news as there were no 
 cables. Think of the excitement amongst the Dutch 
 ladies of the garrison when they opened their boxes of 
 new dresses. Imagine suddenly becoming the 
 possessor of, say, a couple of new frocks, and then, 
 without the previous sight of even a picture in a 
 fashion paper, finding that they were hobble skirts. 
 What a day must have followed the arrival of such a 
 ship in a little place like this." 
 
 " It must have been a ripping dav," cried Cicely, 
 climbing down from her pedestal. " Think of a big 
 box of new hats." 
 
 "An ordinary-sized ship of those days couldn't 
 have carried many of the present-day hats — that is a 
 certainty! " ventured Mallory. 
 
 " Who is for a sail? " cried Desmond, jumping to 
 his feet. *' Imagine wasting a beautiful evening like 
 this in discussing hats! " 
 
 With lingering glances at the entrancing view 
 which spread out upon every side of them, they slowly 
 followed Desmond down the hill. The silence of the 
 
126 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 barracks was strangely redolent of days long past. 
 The recent occupation of the place by modern British 
 troops seemed to have left little memory, whilst the 
 shadow of the Dutch seemed to hang about the ancient 
 buildings as if they had left but yesterday. 
 
 *' There seems to be an atmosphere of old-world 
 romance, a dreamy calling to the senses of spirit 
 voices, and the whisperings of love-tales amidst the 
 rustling of the leaves," said Margaret. 
 
 They were one and all loth to leave the spot. 
 Cicely's thoughts could not desert the poor girl of the 
 Saami rock. The presence of the motor car at the 
 gate seemed to her at the moment almost a sacrilege. 
 
 '' Would you like to come and see what this place 
 looks like from the sea?" asked Desmond insinuat- 
 ingly, turning to Cicely. " I have arranged for a 
 little boat to be ready, and I will give you a lesson in 
 sailing." 
 
 " Rather," she cried. ** Do you think that you 
 others can get on without our interesting society for 
 a time, while Mr. Cleeve and I go sailing?" 
 
 *' We can but try," replied Gordon. " I will drive 
 you down to the Admiralty landing." 
 
 "Indeed!" grunted Mallory. "What am / to 
 do?" 
 
 "You can write that long-deferred letter to your 
 father," replied Cicely. "Or find out from some- 
 body where we can get some good fishing to- 
 morrow." 
 
 The journey to the back harbour took but little 
 
 time. The place seemed so deserted that it might 
 
 have been a land of the plague. Not a single 
 
 European was to be seen. 
 
 Tamby had proved to be as good as his word, even 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 127 
 
 if the craft he had provided was more of a canoe than 
 a sailing boat. It was furnished with a lug sail, how- 
 ever, and was clean, so Desmond settled Cicely in the 
 stern, and shoved off. 
 
 There was an evening breeze from off the land, and 
 the light boat, catching it immediately, flew seawards 
 with unexpected rapidity. 
 
 '* Have you ever sailed a boat before?" inquired 
 Desmond, somewhat anxiously. 
 
 *' Not one like this," she admitted, with a laugh. 
 
 " Well then, keep your eye carefully on the sail, 
 and when a squall strikes us, luff her at once." 
 
 " H'm. What does that mean, please? " 
 
 *' It means that you put your tiller down, so that 
 she comes up into the wind," he explained. *' There 
 isn't much wind in here, so it is safe enough, if you 
 only pay attention." 
 
 '* Thank you, teacher! " she laughed. " My eyes 
 shall remain simply glued on that sail. What a 
 lovely place for a moonlight picnic, isn't it? " 
 
 '* Yes, the whole place is redolent of peace," mur- 
 mured Desmond. *' Back-waters certainly have their 
 charms, but I wonder how long it would take us to 
 tire of them ? Work somehow seems to be the medi- 
 cine of life to an Englishman. We grumble and we 
 groan over it, but we cannot last long in peace without 
 it." 
 
 " No, I suppose one cannot always exist on nothing 
 but scenery — not even girls," sighed Cicely. ** It is 
 very nice here now, all the same, isn't it? " 
 
 '* So nice that the idea of my stuffy little office in 
 London gives me the blues. It is very nice to drift 
 in pleasant waters." 
 
 ''Oh dear!" exclaimed Cicely, as the bow of the 
 
128 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 boat flew up into the wind, and the sail flapped about 
 Desmond's head. 
 
 " Pull the tiller towards you," he instructed, "and 
 please be more careful, or when we get farther out 
 there may be trouble. We don't wish to follow the 
 fortunes of the girl of the Saami rock." 
 
 "I was only going to say," remarked Cicely, as 
 the boat again began to, rush through the sapphire 
 water, " that I think one would find a planter's life 
 somewhat dull on the whole. It would depend on so 
 many things." 
 
 ** Yes. Foggy old London has not lost its charm 
 yet. But it may also depend on many other things." 
 
 " It must be hard work in London, I should think," 
 she said, catching her breath as a little squall from 
 round a point of land caught the sail and heeled the 
 light boat over almost to her gunwale. 
 
 " Very hard, at times," he agreed, looking to wind- 
 ward. " Luff her a bit! There is another squall 
 coming." 
 
 ** And yet, if I were a man, I would rather have 
 the hard work, the fight for something, than trifle in 
 the sunshine always." 
 
 ** And so you are ambitious, hey?" he laughed, 
 letting out the sheet an inch. 
 
 " If I were a man, I would be," she replied unhesi- 
 tatingly. 
 
 " Ah I And if you were a man's wife, what then ? " 
 "I would be more ambitious still— for him," she 
 answered, nodding her head sagely. ** But the man 
 I would marry would require no urging." 
 
 The breeze was rapidly strengthening. Having 
 passed a headland, the sweep of the bay was before 
 them. The plaintive cry of seagulls hovering near 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 129 
 
 the fisherman's huts was the only sound of life. A 
 native boatman, collecting nets on the far side of the 
 bay, was the sole human being to be seen. 
 
 "What a very determined young person !" exclaimed 
 Desmond. " You look so deliciously serious over it all, 
 too. I haven't seen you looking serious for many a 
 day. I shouldn't give it up, though, if I were you^ 
 If I hadn't forgotten how to flirt, I might say how 
 — well — how — Down with your helm!" 
 
 With a suddenness which neither of them had 
 imagined possible, a squall, cutting downwards from 
 the rocks above, struck the light craft and threw her 
 almost on her beam ends. Cicely, unaccustomed to 
 the vagaries of those waters, was too late. She had, 
 in fact, been so interested in the conversation, that 
 she was looking anywhere buti at the sail. With a 
 cry of genuine alarm, Desmond sprang to the sheet, 
 which, at the critical moment, as so often happens, 
 jambed in the cleat. In sudden panic. Cicely let go 
 the tiller altogether, but it was already too late to 
 avert the catastrophe. Before they could begin even 
 to think, the boat was filling with water over the 
 leeward gunwale. 
 
 The next moment both Desmond and Cicely found 
 themselves in the water, and the boat lying like a dere- 
 lict toy on its side. 
 
 ''Are you all right?" gasped Desmond in fear, 
 slipping his hand under Cicely's shoulder as she 
 clung to the boat. " For heaven's sake, don't let go 
 the boat." 
 
 " No, I shall hold on all right. Don't be afraid 
 for me," she replied, shaking the salt water out of 
 her hair. " I can swim quite well." 
 
 " All right then, I will trust you, but don't attempt 
 I 
 
130 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 to swim, whatever you do," he urged. "You are 
 sure you can hold on?" 
 
 " Quite. It is all my fault that we are here, and I 
 am so sorry." 
 
 " It was that confounded sheet that jambed— it 
 wasn't your fault at all," he cried, pulling himself 
 round to the stern of the boat. '' Hang on tight 
 until I climb up on the bottom; then I will pull you 
 up after me. There is no danger, and the water is 
 as warm as new milk." 
 
 To climb up and straddle the bottom of the boat 
 took very little time, but Desmond seemed to be in 
 a particular hurry all the same. 
 
 "Now then, quick!" he shouted, catching Cicely 
 by both wrists. *' Up you come!" 
 
 "Thank Heaven!" he breathed, as the girl 
 balanced her lissom figure beside him and removed 
 her topee. 
 
 " But whv so concerned? " she laughed. *' A little 
 wetting won't do me any harm!" 
 
 " No, but the jaws of a shark might," he answered, 
 pointing to a black fin sailing away to leeward. " This 
 place swarms with sharks." 
 
 "Good gracious! How nice of you not to have 
 said a word to frighten me!" she exclaimed, looking 
 up through her wet hair with a grateful smile. Then, 
 ruefully inspecting her sodden frock: "What an 
 awful object I look!" 
 
 " A little like a seductive mermaid," answered Des- 
 mond, divesting himself of his jacket. " The point 
 at present is, how are we to get back ? " 
 
 Cicely shaded her eyes with her hand and scanned 
 the shore-line diligently. Beneath the shelter of a 
 bluff, where they had now drifted, the water was as 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 131 
 
 calm and clear as crystal. There was no necessity for 
 haste, but, unless somebody came to the rescue, it 
 was quite possible for them to sit on where they were 
 until pitchy darkness enveloped the land. 
 
 "Well," said Cicely, folding her hands demurely, 
 ** we must possess our souls in patience as best we can. 
 By the way, what were you saying when that squall 
 hit us?" 
 
 " H'ml Wasn't it something about your unusual 
 attitude of seriousness?" he queried, lugubriously 
 inspecting the sodden cigarettes in his case. 
 
 "Or something about flirting?" she ventured, 
 meditatively removing a shoe full of water. 
 
 " It may have been that," he answered slowly. 
 " There was a time when I thought you preferred flirt- 
 ing to anything else on earth. I have changed my 
 opinion." 
 
 " Oh I You will make me give up that delectable 
 fling in spite of all my inclinations, if you put me on 
 a pedestal," she laughed mischievously. " I assure 
 you I don't feel my wings even beginning to sprout 
 yet." 
 
 ** Well," he sighed, with an air of relief, " I am 
 ever so thankful that you don't need them yet. That 
 shark frightened me terribly." 
 
 The wind had dropped with the sun. There is no 
 twilight in the East, the daylight coming to an end 
 as suddenly as the flicker of a dying lamp. Desmond 
 began to look anxiously towards shore. 
 
 "Oh, there they arel'" cried Cicely, waving a 
 bedraggled handkerchief. " Just as we were getting 
 on so nicely with our discussion, too I " 
 
 " Who — where? " asked Desmond, looking in the 
 wrong direction. 
 
132 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 *' Why, Uncle Gerald and Mr. Mallory, of 
 course. They are just getting into a boat far up the 
 harbour." 
 
 "Thank goodness!" declared Desmond. "All's 
 well that ends well." 
 
 With many shouts of encouragement from Mallory 
 — as if the rescued ones were on the point of drowning 
 at that very moment — the boat drew alongside the 
 derelict. 
 
 The tale of their adventure was soon told, and, 
 Cicely and Desmond transferring themselves to the 
 boat, the overturned craft was left where she was until 
 her native owner could come out after her. 
 
 Before they reached land the gold and crimson sky- 
 line had faded throug-h deepest purple into a star- 
 flecked curtain of darkness. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 The morning was very hot, and the road dusty, but 
 the car, speeding along at a rate of thirty miles an 
 hour, made its own breeze. Gordon knew every inch 
 of the road, and the sixty-nine miles from Trincoma- 
 lee to Anuradhapura was over dead-level and unin- 
 teresting country. 
 
 In spite of her boating mishap of the day before, 
 Cicely stated that she never felt better in her life, but 
 seemed to think that an edifying lecture to Mallory 
 would do her good as she sat beside him in the 
 tonneau. 
 
 Steering close to the great artificial tank which sup- 
 plies the native modern town of Anuradhapura with 
 its water, Gordon wound through the roads of the 
 dwelling quarter, passed the ruined monastery of the 
 thousand pillars, and, crossing a bund between two 
 tanks, dashed into the drive of a Rest House, which, 
 by comparison with the small ones they had as yet 
 visited, seemed like a large hotel. 
 
 It was particularly hot at that time of day, but, 
 beneath punkahs, luncheon was found to be quite an 
 agreeable event, in spite of the heat. The daily 
 supply of ice was, apparently, not due to arrive until 
 the advent of a train an hour later, but, deciding that 
 delay would but enhance the joy of life, they waited 
 patiently in anticipation. 
 
 133 
 
134 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 " This place is much too uncomfortably hot to play 
 about in in the middle of the day," said Gordon. *' I 
 am going off to hunt up one of the government 
 officials who is a friend of mine. I will be back in 
 plenty of time to play cicerone. In the meantime I 
 advise you to study Cave's book on the * Ruined 
 Cities of Ceylon/ which I have brought with me." 
 
 "Oh, but Uncle Gerald, we would so much rather 
 hear you tell us about things," said Cicely. ''You 
 do it so nicely, too." 
 
 " You are a lazy, wheedling girl," laughed Gordon. 
 " All I know myself of the History of Anuradhapura 
 I have learned from Cave's books." 
 
 " How nice! " cried Cicely. " That is better than 
 trusting your memory, isn't it? I am quite sure that 
 I shall listen most attentively. Besides, Mr. Mallory 
 must read the book ; and we can't all read at once, can 
 we?" 
 
 "Oh, must I?" exclaimed Mallory. "I don't 
 feel at all strong to-day." 
 
 "Oh, all right, you lazy people," answered Gordon, 
 " I will tell you what I know, but it isn't much. 
 The whole of this sacred city occupies a site which 
 was once the royal gardens of the Cingalese king, 
 Tissa. Somewhere about a hundred years, or less, 
 after the founding of the Buddhist religion by Gau- 
 tama, that is in the third century B.C., Asoka, who 
 at that time ruled most of India, sent his son, 
 Mahinda, to Ceylon to convert Tissa, who, by the 
 way, was of the same race as himself. History relates 
 that Mahinda met Tissa out hunting at a place about 
 eight miles from here. He converted Tissa, who 
 thereupon gave orders to his wives and followers that 
 they would henceforth consider themselves Buddhists. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 135 
 
 This was about the year 307 B.C. Before that time 
 the Cingalese were of the Brahman faith. At the 
 place where Mahinda met Tissa there is a great rock, 
 which rises up for a thousand feet above the plain. 
 Granite steps — over a thousand of them — lead to the 
 top, where there is a dagaba. The place is called 
 Mihintale. If you are not absolutely wearied to death 
 by dagabas before we get through, I'll run you out 
 in the motor, and we can climb the steps." 
 
 ''Help!" groaned Mallory. 
 
 " You will certainly have to go, Mr. iNIallory, even 
 if we don't," said Cicely. " Your father will expect 
 it of you. It is the stern duty of Uncle Gerald to 
 stand in loco parentis/' 
 
 " I don't know about that," answered Gordon. " I 
 have a rapidly-growing idea that one girl is quite 
 enough for me to manage. In any case, I must be 
 off in a moment, so listen I This King Tissa was 
 apparently a pushing fellow. When he had made up 
 his mind to a thing he got along with it at full speed. 
 When Mahinda had convinced him, he called together 
 all his big men, and, with no end of a gala procession, 
 and much ceremony, he started off to mark the boun- 
 daries of the ground which he had decided to dedicate 
 to Buddha. With a golden plough, he furrowed the 
 boundary lines with his own hands, cutting off a space 
 of twenty square miles. In this place he then immedi- 
 ately settled the sites of various temples, monasteries, 
 &c. These are the things we are going to see. Now, 
 I'm off! I'll be back before tea time." 
 
 "Thank you so much," cried Cicely. "You 
 really do tell it so nicely. We will be very good 
 until you return." 
 
 A couple of hours later, Gordon found the girls 
 
136 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 just leaving their bedrooms. Desmond was reading a 
 novel on the verandah, and Mallory was comfortably 
 asleep in a long armchair. 
 
 " Look here, you fellows," cried Gordon. '* We're 
 in luck. I have been to look up a man who is very 
 keen on shooting. He has located a water hole in 
 the jungle, about ten miles out, where there are recent 
 marks of panther. The whole country is so dried up 
 at present that a good water hole ought to be worth 
 its weight in gold. After a lot of trouble his coolies 
 have found the spot, and now — poor wretch ! — he has 
 suddenly been called away on duty and cannot visit 
 the place for a week. He has very kindly offered me 
 his coolies, and given me leave to get what sport I 
 can. I had hoped to get a shot, or two, at something 
 here, but this is a windfall which may give us lots of 
 sport." 
 
 " By Jove," cried Mallory excitedly, ** that sounds 
 good. I hope I may go too? " 
 
 " When will you go? " asked Desmond. 
 
 " Oh, to-night. We will arrange to stop out all 
 night. The coolies have built a sitting-out place in 
 a convenient tree. That will do for two of us, and I 
 have already left word for them to make another. 
 We'll get under way about seven o'clock, after what 
 must be a very early dinner. I'll order dinner now." 
 
 Suddenly the notes of an American coon dance 
 from a piano broke upon their ears. With one accord 
 they turned and ran down stairs. Cicely, arrayed in 
 white, with a large straw hat trimmed with yellow 
 roses, was gaily hammering upon the piano. 
 
 " We are quite ready, Mr. Gordon," said Margaret 
 from the doorway. " Come along, Cicely." 
 
 Gordon led the way with Margaret. The road from 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 1^7 
 
 the Rest House ran almost directly into the midst of 
 the ruins. Here and there, standing out like white 
 sentinels amidst surrounding trees, they saw various 
 groups of stone pillars. 
 
 *' Stonehenge! " ejaculated Desmond. 
 
 " No," answered Gordon. " But you will see that 
 most of these pillars are beautifully carved, which 
 those at Stonehenge are not. We will cross the road 
 and have a look first of all at the Thuparama dagaha. 
 It is the one in best preservation, and was also the 
 first one built by Tissa." 
 
 A great, white, bell-shaped structure, standing in 
 an open glade, surrounded by a few palm trees, rose 
 up before them. The principal approach to it was up 
 a flight of broad stone steps flanked by tall carved 
 pillars of stone. In the neighbourhood were many 
 more stone pillars, and the entrance to the stairway 
 was guarded by two stones shaped like tombstones. 
 Upon these latter were carved the figures of what 
 looked like Cingalese dancing women. 
 
 '' All these dagabas are pretty much alike in their 
 general idea," said Gordon. " If you see one perfect 
 one like this and a couple of ruined ones, you have 
 really seen them all. One of them is as high as St. 
 Paul's, as I told you before, and it has a base circum- 
 ference of over eleven hundred feet. This one, here, 
 only stands sixty feet in height. Tissa built it to 
 hold a relic of Buddha, the collar bone, which he man- 
 aged to get Asoka to give him. There are heaps of 
 fairy tales concerning the miracles, &c., which the 
 bone performed on arrival in Ceylon, and there was 
 an enormous procession to convey the thing up from 
 the coast. If you want to learn details I am sure that 
 Mallory will gladly read them for you." 
 
138 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 " But how did all these wonderful places get into 
 such a ruined state, if the religion of the Cingalese 
 is still the same?" asked Margaret. 
 
 " The Tamils held sway for many years and seized 
 Anuradhapura," explained Gordon. "The place 
 then went to bits, but afterwards a new Cingalese chief 
 rose up and drove forth the usurpers. The Cingalese 
 are still restoring certain dagabas, as you will see 
 when we wander about a bit. Look at those stones at 
 the entrance, called ' guard stones.' Between them 
 you see a half-moon-shaped pavement stone — called 
 a moon stone." 
 
 " It is beautifully carved, too," exclaimed Cicely. 
 " Look at the animals — bulls — horses — dogs — tigers. 
 It looks to me quite as good as European carving. I 
 wonder how they learned it, if they were so unedu- 
 cated. Why, these must be two thousand years old." 
 
 '* Quite," agreed Gordon. " How they learned the 
 art has always puzzled me also. Of course, the 
 Egyptians were well to the front in those days, but I 
 believe that these dagabas are older than anything 
 they can now show even in India. This country, of 
 course, had nothing to do with Egypt. The work 
 must have been done purely by local lalDOur." 
 
 "The carving upon the capitals of those pillars is 
 decidedly remarkable," cried Desmond. "It looks 
 like first-rate modern stone-cutting. What were they 
 for? Do you know? " 
 
 " Nobodv knows. Probably they were supports for 
 a roof of some kind covering the entrance way. The 
 other pillars round about the place were no doubt 
 portions of priests' buildings and such-like." 
 
 Walking up the stairway, they came upon a paved 
 platform, upon which the dagaba was built. This 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 139. 
 
 surrounded the whole structure. There was no en- 
 trance to the latter, which appeared to be nothing but 
 a mass of bricks built in the form of a dome, with a 
 short spire on top, covered with cement, and whitened. 
 There was no inside to it, as far as could be seen. 
 It was obviously a monument raised as a tangible act 
 of reverence. The lower foundations of the dome 
 were built in terraces, and upon these, in the larger 
 dagabas, could be found images of Buddha and kings 
 of note. 
 
 They walked about the platform, admiring the pro- 
 portions of the dagaba, and wondering at the life of its 
 builders. Returning to the ground, Gordon pointed 
 out a curious mass of stone about seven feet long, 
 hollowed out into a round basin in the middle. 
 
 " That was probably used by the priests as a dyeing 
 vat. You have noticed the peculiar yellow robes they 
 wear. Those were dyed in this vessel, and wrung out 
 to dry upon the end of the stone slab." 
 
 A sudden shout arose from Mallory. He had been 
 standing behind them, digging up pebbles with his 
 stick. '• Look out I " he cried. *' A snake ! " 
 
 A malicious hissing sound caught their ears, and 
 Gordon turned quickly. Within a few feet of Mallory 
 there arose from the grass the head of a cobra. The 
 beast's hood was expanded, a quarter of his body 
 AA as erect, and his fangs shot out venomously. 
 
 Gordon did not hestitate for an instant. Kefore 
 the party had time to think of danger, he strode for- 
 ward, and, seizing Mallory's stick, cut the snake across 
 the neck with all his strength. The impact of the 
 blow threw the beast a dozen feet through the air, 
 and when they reached it it was quite dead. 
 
 Mallory stretched it out and measured it carefully. 
 
140 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 ''Four feet seven," he said. "Is it a dangerous 
 kind?" 
 
 *' Much more dangerous than a coil of rope at all 
 events," chuckled Desmond. 
 
 "H'm!" grunted Mallory, blushing. 
 
 *' If it had caught you on an exposed part of your 
 body you would have died for a certainty," replied 
 Gordon quietly. *' Cobras love stony, warm places 
 like this. I expect he has a mate living somewhere 
 near, for whom, however, we will not bother to wait. 
 We must hurry, anyway. I want to show you 
 another dagaba, which, although ruined, is of a much 
 more pretentious character than this one. I expect by 
 then we shall have done enough for to-day. It is 
 called the Riuimveli dagaba. There it is in the dis- 
 tance." 
 
 He pointed to what looked like a conical hill covered 
 with scrub jungle. The base of the structure was of 
 uncovered bricks, and the top must have been a couple 
 of hundred feet from the ground. On drawing 
 nearer, it was found that the lower parts were only 
 partially excavated. Enough, however, was shewing 
 to illustrate the generous scale upon which it was 
 built. In the days of its newness it must have been a 
 magnificent sight. 
 
 Walking up the steps of approach between the usual 
 rows of stone pillars, Gordon led the way to a stone 
 platform which surrounded the whole dagaba. 
 "This is about a hundred feet wide," he safd. 
 " Elephants used to come up by the way we came and 
 march in procession round here." 
 
 " I wonder if Barnum, the circus man, was a Budd- 
 hist in a former existence? " gurgled Mallory. 
 
 The first part of the dagaba, as they examined it 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 141 
 
 from where they stCMDd, was seen to consist of practi- 
 cally a wall of carved elephants, which were meant to 
 represent a circle of these animals holding up the next 
 platform, or what might aptly be described as the first 
 terrace of the dagaba. 
 
 ** There are four hundred of these elephants holding 
 up a platform which is five hundred feet in diameter," 
 continued Gordon. " You will notice that their heads 
 are pierced with holes. In their best days it is said 
 that those holes contained real ivory tusks. The 
 elephants are nine feet high, and were covered with 
 white enamel. The height of the shrine itself, which, 
 like all the others, is constructed of solid brick, is 
 two hundred and seventy feet, and the diameter of 
 its base is the same." 
 
 " It is a wonderful structure," remarked Desmond. 
 "When it was at its best it must have been very 
 imposing. What are those great figures over there?" 
 
 ** The statues of a Cingalese king and three 
 Buddhas, which I mentioned before. They were dug 
 up near here, and stuck up where you now see them. 
 They are said to have had precious stones for eyes 
 at one time, and are made out of dolomite." 
 
 Round about on the, great platform lay innumer- 
 able remains of carved stonework — elephants' heads — 
 portions of carved pillars — ruined altar stones — and 
 even Buddhas, and a miniature dagaba remained in- 
 tact in the middle of the platform. 
 
 " Hundreds of monks were in attendance here at 
 one time, and it is considered that the remains of 
 their buildings must be buried all about here," added 
 Gordon. 
 
 " I have seen quite enough to convince me that the 
 ancient Cingalese were not afraid of work," stated Mai- 
 
142 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 lory, mopping his perspiring face. " It is a wonder- 
 ful place, but do you know that it is six o'clock? " 
 
 " But there is no hurry, is there? " asked Margaret. 
 
 " Rather," cried Mallory. ** We are going shoot- 
 ing at seven/* 
 
 "Shooting in the dark? Where?" exclaimed 
 Cicely in surprise. 
 
 *' We intend to try for a panther," said Desmond. 
 " It means sitting up in trees perhaps all night, so we 
 must start early. You can get plenty of ruins to- 
 morrow, Meg." 
 
 " Oh, how I should like to go," cried Cicely. ** Can't 
 you take us too, Uncle Gerald ? It would be so nice 
 of you." 
 
 Cicely looked up at Gordon with a bewitching 
 appeal that would have melted a stone Buddha, but he 
 slowly shook his head. 
 
 " Now, there is no use in shaking your head like 
 that. I told you some time ago that it was good for 
 girls to have what they like, and I am sure you have 
 found that to be true. Don't you think you ought to 
 spoil us sometimes? " she asked, naively. 
 
 " I am afraid this is not a good opportunity for 
 spoiling," laughed Gordon. *' In any case, we have 
 only room for four." 
 
 "Oh, but I wouldn't care to go," said Margaret. 
 " I would much prefer to go to bed." 
 
 The faintest shade of disappointment appeared in 
 Gordon's face. Cicely blindly read it as a change of 
 front. "Come along, uncle," she cried, linking her 
 arm in his, " I will be ready as soon as you are; and 
 I won't be the least little bit of a nuisance" 
 
 Desmond laughed indulgently. " You had better 
 give in with a good grace, Gordon," he said. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON i43 
 
 Cicely threw a grateful glance at Desmond behind 
 her uncle's back. 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Cleeve," she called. "I'll sit 
 on your tree. You, I am sure, will look after me and 
 see that I do nothing wrong." 
 
 On the w^ back Mallory suddenly thrust his arm 
 through Desmond's, and drew him behind the others. 
 
 "Look here, Cleeve," he stammered, "you have 
 known Miss Rosmead longer than I. Have you 
 noticed any change in her lately? " 
 
 Desmond glanced at Mallory's profile. The latter, 
 with downcast eyes and bent head, was moodily, out 
 of step, and appeared to be in fierce throes of 
 melancholy. 
 
 "No, I don't think so," he answered slowly. 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Oh, only that she snubs me at every turn," 
 grumbled Jack. " She used to be as charming as 
 any girl could be, and now she is never in the same 
 mood for half an hour. Sometimes she seems to for- 
 get herself, and is all smiles — then she unexpectedly 
 turns upon me and rends me." 
 
 "Oh?" 
 
 " You and she seem friendly enough. I thought 
 you might know some reason." 
 
 "Humph!" grunted Desmond doubtfully. 
 
 " I cannot think what I can have done. I have 
 tried to get some explanation out of her, but she cuts 
 me short," groaned Mallory. 
 
 Desmond glanced at the downcast head, and hesi- 
 tated for a moment before he spoke. 
 
 " Perhaps — I only say, perhaps — you have tried to 
 flirt too much," he ventured. 
 
 ''Flirt? I? Good heavens, man, I have meant 
 
144 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 every word I've said to her," ejaculated Mallory. 
 
 ''Humph!" 
 
 "For heaven's sake say something! Can't you 
 help a fellow? " cried Mallory passionately. 
 
 " It depends somewhat upon what you want to say, 
 I should think. How can I help you? Am I the 
 custodian of Miss Rosmead's thoughts? " 
 
 Mallory slowly lit a cigarette and slung his topee 
 by his chin strap over his arm. For a few moments 
 there was silence. They had reached the entrance to 
 the drive, and crossed the public road. 
 
 " What I want to say is simple enough. I — er — 
 want to marry her." 
 
 For some inexplicable reason Desmond halted 
 suddenly, stock still, on the footpath. His expression 
 was invisible in the darkness, but for a moment it is 
 certain that he dared not trust his voice to speak. Al- 
 though he had expected this for some time, there had 
 always been the possibility of a mistake in his beliefs. 
 That an engagement between Cicely and Mallory 
 would be a suitable event he could not deny. If Jack 
 spoke the truth — as there seemed no reason to doubt — 
 his father was in affluent circumstances, and Jack was 
 his only son. What more could the girl's best friends 
 desire for her? Why should his heart have suddenly 
 elected to lose a beat? Why should the earth have 
 for a moment seemed to float nebulously before his 
 eyes? He pressed his teeth together, and, calling 
 himself an ass, turned quietly towards Mallory. 
 
 " My dear boy," said he simply, "if it is that way 
 with you, why don't you ask her? " 
 
 " I daren't," groaned Mallory. 
 
 " Oh ! Faint heart never yet won — " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I know all that. But she won't give 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 145 
 
 me a decent chance, and besides — " He threw away 
 his cigarette despondently. " Look here, old fellow, 
 I wish you would help me a bit." 
 ''Help you? How?" 
 
 ** Well, you can give me a good character, don't 
 you know. You could speak a good word for me. I 
 know she lilies you, and values your opinion." 
 
 Desmond walked for quite a hundred yards in 
 silence. *' I — er — will if I can," he said at last, weigh- 
 ing his words. "" But," he added beneath his breath, 
 ** the question is, can I? " 
 
 They had already reached the Rest House entrance. 
 The ladies had apparently gone to their rooms. Gor- 
 don was sitting alone upon the verandah indulging in 
 an ante-prandial gin and bitters. 
 
 ** Hurry up, you two!" cried the latter. ** Have a 
 drink?"' 
 
 ** You'll promise?" whispered Mallory, hurriedly. 
 Desmond's eyes sought the distant world of stars. 
 A pair of soft, bewitching blue eyes seemed to look 
 back upon him from out of the depths above. A 
 phantom of heaven was drifting from his sight foi 
 ever. With a grim smile he brought Iiis senses to 
 earth. 
 
 ** Yes," he said, *' I promise to give you your 
 chance." 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 It was quite an hour after dark before they reached 
 the spot where they were to leave the motor car. 
 Gordon had borrowed a third rifle, so that each man 
 might have one. The native shikari was anxiously 
 awaiting them. He stated that only that very 
 morning he had seen the marks of both panther and 
 bear at the side of the pool. Like most of his kind, 
 the panthers were (as always), in his opinion, 
 undoubtedly of great size. 
 
 They started off without delay in single file. The 
 path struck at once into the very heart of the virgin 
 forest. Within a minute all was darkness ; — there was 
 no moon, and beneath the thick foliage the stars were 
 almost invisible. Gordon came last, following Cicely. 
 The latter, clad in blue serge and a cloth hat, professed 
 to be ready for anything. 
 
 Gordon had been talking to the shikari. Apparently 
 the waterhole was not more than a mile and 
 a half from the rendezvous. The native, at a half 
 run, led the way. The scrub on either side was very 
 dense, with large trees, but now and again a small 
 natural clearing of a few yards in diameter gave them 
 a glimpse of the heavens. 
 
 ^ •• Panthers are not easily frightened," said Gordon, 
 ''but when we once get into our hiding places we 
 should keep as quiet as we reasonablv can. You can 
 
 146 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON i47 
 
 sometimes throw sticks at a panther and he won't 
 move, but then, on the other hand, he may sHnk away 
 at the merest sound." 
 
 Cicely's senses were keenly alert to her surround- 
 ings. The environment of such an adventure to those 
 unaccustomed to the life of a jungle was in itself 
 sufficient to throw them into a state of suppressed 
 excitement. The very fact that at any moment some 
 wild denizen of the forest might be glaring at them 
 through the bushes was enough to add zest to a walk 
 which in broad daylight might be colourless. 
 
 In silence they moved swiftly down a slight incline. 
 Presently the canopy above opened out, and beneath 
 the light of the stars they saw, a few yards ahead, the 
 glassy surface of water. It was quite a small pool, but 
 it was the only water they had seen. 
 
 The guide halted, and pointed to a great tree on his 
 left, in the branches of which there appeared to be a 
 sort of leafy bower. Then, speaking a few words in 
 Tamil, he himself swarmed up another tree. 
 
 *' Here you are, Cleeve," whispered Gordon. '' Up 
 you go, and I'll lift Cicely up after you. Keep your 
 eye on her." 
 
 The climb to the nearest branch was not difficult, 
 Gordon gave Desmond a ** leg-up," and handed him 
 his rifle. The latter, leaning down, could just reach 
 Cicely's hands. A healthy, full-grown English girl 
 is no mean weight, but Desmond was equal to it. In 
 another moment Cicely was sitting beside him. 
 
 " Now then," he whispered, " one more climb and 
 we are there." 
 
 Behind the shelter of leafy branches the shikari had 
 rigged up a regular seat. It was rather a tight fit 
 for two, but, once settled into place, the commanding 
 
i4g CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 view of the open glade and the pool below w^as 
 perfect. 
 
 Desmond immediately loaded his rifle. Then, 
 laying it across his knees, he slipped down by Cicely's 
 side and peered through the leafy entanglement. 
 
 Parallel with them, he could see a similar viachan 
 about ten yards on his left, where Gordon and 
 Mallory had ensconced themselves. 
 
 *' We are to have the first shot," whispered 
 Desmond. " If a second is needed, it will come from 
 the other machan. If a panther does turn up, would 
 you like it? " 
 "Like what?" 
 
 ** The first shot. It isn't difficult. There is a piece 
 of white wool tied to the sight, so that you can easily 
 take aim in the dark," explained Desmond. 
 
 " Oh, but," replied Cicely, trembling with excite- 
 ment, '* I mustn't. I should miss, and that wouldl 
 spoil your sport. It is awfully good of you, but — " 
 
 *' Nonsense ! I know you would like to. Look, I'll 
 rest the rifle across this branch. \Vhen the time comes, 
 all you have to do is to follow what I say. I'll judge 
 the time, and you can shoot." 
 
 The minutes dragged very slowly. From where 
 they sat, perched side by side upon a narrow seat made 
 from the cover of a box, they could see the stars 
 reflected in the blackness of the pool, but all else about 
 them w^as in dense shadow. For the first time in her 
 life Cicely realised what is meant by a ** silence that 
 can be felt." Now and again, as a twig cracked 
 overhead, or a sudden rustling of leaves in the night 
 breeze broke the suspense, the girl would give a little 
 quiver of excitement, but she didn't shift her position 
 or speak. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 149 
 
 What seemed like half an hour, but what was really 
 not more than half that time, was passed in this eerie 
 silence without a word from either of them. Each 
 minute was more difficult to bear than the last. With 
 eyes and ears and nerves at their acutest tension, the 
 strain momentarily grew more unbearable. At last, 
 when Cicely was thinkmg that anything— even falling 
 off her perch — w^ould be easier to bear, Desmond's 
 voice broke the spell. 
 
 *' There is, I believe, no real necessity for keeping 
 so very quiet," he whispered. '* Besides, we may 
 have to sit here for hours." 
 
 '* Oh, I am so glad — I mean, that we may speak," 
 sighed Cicely. " I don't believe I could have lasted 
 another minute." 
 
 ** It is rather trying when one isn't used to it. 
 And, in any case, I have something to say to you." 
 
 He shifted his position slightly. Sitting so close to 
 her, as under the circumstances w^as necessary, he 
 could almost feel each breath she took. The near 
 presence of the girl was telling upon his nerves in a 
 manner that w^as every moment unfitting him the 
 more for what he had set himself to say. 
 
 " Oh, dear," whispered Cicely, noting the tone of 
 his voice, ** not another scolding I hope. I have been 
 very good lately — really. You know I have." 
 
 " Yes, I know," he whispered in a monotone. *' In 
 a sense, however, it isn't unlike a scolding. It is on 
 behalf of Jack Mallory." 
 
 •' But, I haven't—" 
 
 " I know. That appears to be the trouble. Mallory 
 complains that you are so unkind to him that he thinks 
 it necessary to solicit my help." 
 
 '* Oh, does he? " she said, scornfully. *' I don't 
 
150 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 think much of a man who cannot say things for 
 himself. I really didn't think Mr. Mallory such a 
 coward." 
 
 " H'm, I don't think it is that," explained 
 Desmond. ** It looks to me rather as if his nervous- 
 ness was due to sincerity. He is a good fellow. He 
 is—" 
 
 Cicely laughed very softly. 
 
 " You are very amusing," she whispered. " And 
 so I have been treating poor Mr. Mallory so badly that 
 he has had to cry for help ! Am I to flirt with him 
 then — or what do you advise? " 
 
 For quite two minutes Desmond didn't move or 
 speak. He could actually feel her breath upon his 
 cheek as she waited for his answer. His pulses were 
 beating in sudden tumult. He had given his promise 
 to Mallory. Honour held him bound to that. With 
 all his strength he strove to utter his words with calm 
 indifference. 
 
 " No, not flirt," he murmured. " He asks for more 
 than that." 
 
 " Oh I . . . And you are helping him ? " 
 
 "I said I would help to give him his chance with 
 you — nothing more." 
 
 It was too dark for Cicely to read his face, but for 
 all that she glanced searchingly at the dim profile so 
 close to her. He did not return her look, but in the 
 droop of his head she seemed to find an answer to her 
 unasked question. Her eyes, which had a moment 
 before grown very serious, suddenly danced with 
 merry laughter. 
 
 " Oh, dear," she murmured, half to herself, " men 
 are curious people. First one must not flirt, and then 
 one must. And— " 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 151 
 
 " H-u-s-h ! " whispered Desmond. 
 
 A peculiar grunting noise, followed by the breaking 
 of brushwood and the squelching sound of feet in mud, 
 arose from the left of the pool. Instinctively Cicely 
 raised the rifle and peered through the branches. A 
 moment later, a black ungainly mass appeared at the 
 edge of the water. As to what it was Cicely had no 
 idea, but, pointing the rifle expectantly, she waited. 
 
 "Don't shoot! " whispered Desmond suddenly. ** It 
 is only a wild pig. Gordon warned) me that some 
 might turn up. It is no good to us, and if we fired 
 we might frighten larger game." 
 
 The pig, in peace, drank noisily at the muddy edge 
 of the water, rooted about amongst the scrub, and 
 then disappeared as suddenly as he had come. The 
 hoot of an owl was heard in the distance. A wood 
 pigeon, disturbed by some phantom of the night, 
 rustled on a tree top. Desmond was just ab )ut to 
 speak when his ears caught the sharp sound of 
 breaking twigs. Automatically he pressed Cicely's 
 hand and waited. 
 
 A moment later the dim outline of some animal 
 thrust aside the surrounding brushwood. At first its 
 nature was undiscernible. Then, as it advanced boldly 
 to the water, the first reflection of the rising moon shot 
 from behind a hidden cloud. The beast drank. Then, 
 raising its head, it glanced casually upwards. Cicely 
 could see the yellowish green of its eyes not twenty 
 yards from where she was hidden She had never seen 
 a panther before, but there was no mistaking this cat- 
 like tawny beast, mottled with black spots. 
 
 In an instant her muscles were quivering as if with 
 ague. The moment had arrived= Could she perform 
 her part ? 
 
152 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 " Now then ! " whispered Desmond quietly. " Rest 
 the rifle carefully! Don't hurry ! Take a long aim at 
 just about his shoulder." 
 
 " All right. Only hold me, please, or I'm sure I 
 shall fall," she breathed. 
 
 As she spoke she was taking aim, the muzzle of the 
 rifle protruding a foot beyond the leafy cover. The 
 panther was still practically in the same position. He 
 appeared to be in no hurry to finish his drink. 
 
 Desmond leaned forward, and, with his left hand, 
 held the barrel of the rifle firmly against the bough. 
 His other arm he slipped about Cicely's waist. 
 
 His protecting arm seemed to steady her 
 magnetically. She nerved herself to a special effort. 
 A long aim, assisted by a few whispered encourage- 
 ments from Desmond, and she was ready. The 
 panther again most opportunely raised his head and 
 glanced at the sky. 
 
 '* Now ! " murmured Desmond* 
 
 Cicely pulled the trigger I There was a splash of 
 water at the animal's feet. The latter sprang lightly 
 upwards, and then, quivering, stood, with raised head, 
 watching for he knew not what. 
 
 " Missed! " whispered Desmond. 
 
 A second later a flash of fire emanated from the 
 second viachan on the left, and a rifle shot rang out. 
 
 The panther sprang wildly forward and fell into the 
 water. In a moment he was lashing out, and kicking 
 up the mud in a fierce frenzy of pain and fury. 
 
 *'The second barrel! " hissed Desmond. ''Quick ! " 
 Cicely did not hesitate for one second. Again her 
 rifle rang out! 
 
 There was one last convulsive spring from 
 the panther, and then the lithe yellow carcass 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 153 
 
 lay, half-covered by watery foam and mud, inert, and 
 apparently lifeless, beneath the moonlight. 
 
 For a moment neither Desmond nor Cicely moved. 
 Desmond's arm was still about the girl's waist, and he 
 could feel her heart beating madly. Her breath 
 fanned his cheek, and one hand seized his 
 spasmodically. 
 
 A shout from Gordon broke the spell. The native 
 shikari, who had been well out of danger up a tree, 
 slipped to the ground and ran to the pool. 
 
 *'Hah I " cried Gordon. '* That last shot gave him 
 the coup de grace. The honours are yours, 
 Desmond." 
 
 *'To Miss Rosmead belongs the glory," called 
 Desmond cheerily. ** Shall we get down ? " he added 
 to Cicely, slowly releasing her and taking the rifle. 
 " I suppose so," she answered dreamily. 
 *' Come then, I will lower you first," he sighed. 
 Desmond's nerves, as a rule, were not such as to be 
 unstrung by so mild an adventure as had just taken 
 place, but, explain it as he would, it is certain that he 
 was strangely perturbed. The mere shooting of the 
 beast afforded him little explanation. The seconds, 
 however, during which he had practically held Cicely's 
 yielding figure in his arms, and her eyes had 
 looked to him for help, seemed mapped upon his heart 
 as moments which he could never possibly forget. 
 His thoughts were strangely wandering. Jack 
 Mallory and his affairs were as things of long ago. 
 
 Mechanically he dropped to the ground. Cicely 
 had waited for him. The others were already examin- 
 ing the dead panther by the aid of an electric torch. 
 
 '* By Jupiter," cried Mallory. ** My shot must be 
 the one that broke his leg. The second on? entered 
 
154 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 his chest and killed him. Well done, Miss Rosmead! 
 YouVe a~ripper! " 
 
 '' Did you really do it, Cicely? " asked Gordon. 
 
 ** I pulled the trigger, but Mr. Cleeve helped me,'* 
 she replied modestly. 
 
 ** Oh, and so you are a clever girl after all," laughed 
 Gordon. " I thought you were only bragging when 
 you said you could do plenty of clever things besides 
 make your own frocks." 
 
 The shikari had already begun to drag the animal 
 from the water. They watched him tie the beast's feet 
 together and select a pole to sling the carcass from. 
 Mallory was full of excited comment, and plied Cicely 
 with questions of her feelings at various moments of 
 the adventure. The girl, however, was unusually 
 reticent. She answered in monosyllables and seemed 
 tired. Mallory, much to his disgust, found Desmond 
 not much better. 
 
 Under the shikarVs directions, the men shouldered 
 the pole and prepared to rejoin the motor. As Gordon 
 pointed out, it would be almost daylight by the time 
 they got back to the Rest House, so there was no time 
 to wait for further possibilities of sport. 
 
 The progress was slow, but, as the moon had risen, 
 the path was now easier to follow. Peter was found 
 snoring beside the car like a bull-dog. The panther 
 was a splendid specimen, and his body, fastened by the 
 straps, soon hung limply across the luggage rack. 
 
 Gordon opened a bottle of soda water, and extracted 
 a whisky flask from the tonneau. 
 
 " Here you are. Cicely! Just you take a mouthful 
 of this. I expect you need it," he said. 
 
 Cicely obediently did as she was bidden, and the 
 others, opening more soda water, followed suit. Then 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 155 
 
 Gordon took the steering wheel, and Jack Mallory 
 deftly slipped into the tonneau beside Cicely, leaving 
 the seat t3y the driver for Desmond. 
 
 It was a perfect night, or rather early morning, and 
 the rush through the air was very refreshing. 
 
 Cicely, leaning back in her corner, closed her eyes. 
 She seemed to have several things to think out, but 
 upon no one of them could she concentrate her 
 thoughts. She was not in the least sleepy. 
 Desmond's unexpected championship of Jack 
 Mallory 's cause repeatedly claimed her thoughts. 
 Desmond's own attitude towards her was even more 
 difficult of understanding. The methods of men are 
 invariably clumsy, but their objects are not so 
 invariably obvious. 
 
 For a time Mallory watched Cicely's apparently 
 sleeping figure in silence. Then, as she opened her 
 eyes and shifted her position, he moved nearer to 
 her. 
 
 *' Are you very tired? " he asked. 
 
 *' Yes, rather," she replied, again closing her eyes. 
 
 " Too tired to talk a little? " inquired Jack humbly. 
 
 ** Yes, rather," she repeated. 
 
 Mallory 's face expressed restless indecision. He 
 shifted uneasily, and made as if to speak ; then sighed 
 deeply and retreated again to his corner. 
 
 It was not yet break of day when they reached the 
 Rest House. Cicely sprang to the ground and waited 
 for a moment to watch the unloading of the panther. 
 Presently Desmond stood beside her on the verandah. 
 His face was very grave, and he seemed to avoid her 
 eyes instinctively. 
 
 " You must be very fired," fie said, almost tenderly. 
 "Why don't you go to bed? " 
 
156 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 " And so I must be very nice to Mr. Mallory in 
 future — is that it? " she whispered irrelevantly. 
 
 He looked distantly to the lightening horizon, andl 
 seemed for a moment to forget his surroundings. 
 
 " He would like it," he said at last. 
 
 "But I am asking you, not him," she persisted. 
 " I value your advice." 
 
 "Well, / refuse to say another word," he answered, 
 almost fiercely. 
 
 A suspicion of mischievous amusement puckered 
 the corners of her mouth, which, had he been looking, 
 might have served to warn him. 
 
 "But I thought you had promised him?" she 
 asked, sweetly. 
 
 " Yes, fool that I was, I did," he admitted. " But 
 I have said all that I intend to say, and never again 
 will I interfere in other people's affairs." 
 
 "Oh?" she laughed. "Then that includes me 
 also — of course. So even if I should be tempted, you 
 wouldn't—" 
 
 What subtlety of mischief she was de^/ising for his 
 undoing he was not at that time destined to learn, for 
 an urgent summons from Gordon for help caused him 
 to abruptly join the motor. When next he had time 
 to think, Cicely, her eyes dancing with merriment, 
 was mounting the stairs to her room. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Until tiffin time, Margaret had the verandah to 
 herself. She did not care to wander alone amongst 
 the ruins, and so snatched the opportunity to write 
 belated letters. 
 
 The gong for tiffin brought the others, one by one, 
 into life again. Each detail of the previous night's 
 adventure was repeated for her benefit by the late 
 occupants of both the rnachans, and Cicely again 
 came in for compliments upon the success of her 
 novitiate as a sportswoman. 
 
 Upstairs, after luncheon, Gordon wii.s again called 
 upon to disgorge his knowledge of what he intended 
 to show them that afternoon, 
 
 "It is all very fine," he argued, " to make me 
 talk like this, but it is dry work, and, besides, it is 
 all in the books." 
 
 " Yes, but you can't think how interesting you were 
 yesterday, Uncle Gerald," wheedled Cicely. ** You 
 are ever so much better than any book." 
 
 *' Humph!" grunted Gordon, lighting a cigar, 
 " the indolence of a girls' school must be really 
 terrible." 
 
 ** You know, uncle, you are wasting an awful lot 
 of energy in argument. You'll be frightfully dry 
 before you even begin." 
 
 "Well then, somewhere about the year 164 B.C. 
 — as far as I can remember — the then reigning 
 Cingalese king, Dutthagamini — " 
 
 157 
 
158 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 " Help! " interrupted Mallory. 
 
 '' Made up his mind to recover Anuradhapura from 
 the Tamil marauders who had come from India. 
 Their king, Elara, was challenged by Dutthagamini 
 to single combat. They fought on elephants, and 
 Elara \s elephant was overthrown and the king him- 
 self killed. His body was cremated upon the spot, 
 and a mound still marks his resting-place there. The i 
 Cingalese then re-occupied the city, and began, with I 
 wonderful energy, to restore the shrines, &c., and to 
 build various monasteries and palaces. In some cases 
 they laid foundations of stone interleaved with plates 
 of iron and copper. The remains of one of the first 
 of these new structures — ' The Brazen Palace ' — w^e 
 will have a look at when it gets a bit cooler." 
 ''Thank you. Uncle Gerald," said Cicely demurely. 
 
 " What a lot you will have to write home to your 
 father, Mr. Mallory," remarked Margaret. 
 
 " M'yes," murmured Jack. " Isn't it time to start 
 yet, Gordon? " 
 
 "All right," answered Gordon, rising. "It is 
 still quite hot, so you girls must wear topees.'' 
 
 Turning to the right, Gordon led the way by the 
 road across the bund between the two water tanks, 
 and there was no mistaking the mass of masonry 
 which now met their eyes. 
 
 Leaving the road, they wandered between the long 
 rows of stone pillars, and Gordon pointed out where 
 the palace portion of the building had been located. 
 
 There were," he said, "sixteen hundred of these 
 pillars. I don't know how many remain, but a ^reat 
 many, as you see. The floor is said to have been con- 
 structed of marble, and the building was nine storeys 
 nigli. There were one hundred rooms on each storey. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 159 
 
 As years went on, various storeys seem to have been 
 cut off the top, as we know that at one time it was left 
 with only five. The roof was covered with brazen 
 tiles— hence the name. The many rooms were 
 apparently occupied by monks, and in the middle was 
 the gilt hall of the king. The description of this 
 palace is unbelievable. Solomon's temple wouldn't 
 appear to have been in it at all ! The pillars in the 
 hall were golden, and festoons of pearls formed the 
 ornaments. In the middle was an ivory throne. On 
 one side of the throne was the moon in silver, on the 
 other the sun in gold, and above it the stars in 
 pearls. The walls were hung with gems representing 
 flowers and fruit, and the place was furnished with 
 valuable couches and chairs. A golden ladle was 
 used at the doorway for the water required for 
 washing the feet and hands of the priests. But there 
 is nothing much left to see now. If one wishes to 
 become impressed, one must let one's imagination 
 soar backwards for a couple of thousand years." 
 
 " I should like to have seen those gems, 
 wouldn't you, Meg?" asked Cicely. 
 
 ** I wonder where they all are now?" said 
 Margaret. " Most of them, I suppose, are still above 
 ground in various corners of the earth. How 
 intensely interesting it would be to be able to follow 
 the peregrinations of even one of those pearls which 
 formed the stars of the ivory throne." 
 
 " Speaking of pearls. Miss Rosmead, reminds one 
 of something else, doesn't it?" remarked Mallory. 
 *' How are you getting on towards them? " 
 
 ''That question can have only one answer," 
 replied Cicely. "Can't it, Uncle Gerald?" 
 
 " I don't know quite," answered Gordon, laughing. 
 
i6o CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 " You seem to be keeping yourself pretty well in 
 hand, but I have noticed that behind a demurely 
 obedient manner there may lie traps for uncles. 
 Come and inspect the sacred ho-iree ! You can see 
 its top branches across the road there." 
 
 Cicely sauntered slowly ahead of the others with 
 Jack Mallory at her heels. She began to hum an air 
 from Gilbert and Sullivan, then gaily sang the words 
 to Mallory : " Things are not always what they seem ; 
 skimmed milk masquerades as cream." 
 
 '* What do you mean by that? " inquired Jack. 
 
 '* I wonder," she murmured evasively. ** Do you 
 think that the reverse is common ? Do you think, 
 for instance, that cream ever tries to look like skimmed 
 milk?" 
 
 Mallory glanced at her thoughtful face in perplexity. 
 He wasn't dense as a rule, but for the life of him he 
 couldn't see a loophole of explanation. Cicely 
 appeared to be looking at Desmond, who, smoking 
 hiaf pipe as usual, had passed a few yards on their 
 left. 
 
 "Now then, you globe-trotters!" cried Gordon 
 facetiously. ''Follow the man from Cook's!" 
 
 He stood at the entrance to a walled enclosure, 
 inside of which roamed vendors of flowers, candles, 
 and other tawdry accompaniments of heathen worship. 
 A young priest, garbed in the usual saffron robes, 
 came forward to offer himself as guide. They crossed 
 the courtyard, in which many great fig trees grew, 
 and climbed a stone stairway leading to a small 
 temple. Surrounded by a railing, grew an ordinary- 
 looking ancient specimen of the Ficus Indicus. The 
 priest pkicked a couple of leaves, and offered them to 
 Margaret. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON i6i 
 
 ** This tree,** explained Gordon, ** is reputed to be 
 well over two thousand years old. History relates 
 that when Mahinda converted Tissa, a great many 
 Cingalese women came forward to offer themselves as 
 priestesses or nuns, but Mahinda said that he him- 
 self was unable to instal them as such. It must be 
 done, he said, by a woman. So he sent to India for 
 his sister, Sanghamitta, who was the prioress of a 
 nunnery," 
 
 ** Please note the necessity for a woman's help," 
 remarked Cicely primly. 
 
 "Don't interrupt teacher!" said Desmond, 
 smiling. " It isn't done in the best schools." 
 
 " Tissa sent one of his ministers to conduct the 
 lady here," continued Gordon. " At the same time 
 he asked King Asoka, her father, to send with her a 
 cutting of the famous fig tree under which Gautama 
 had been accustomed to meditate. The story of the 
 departure for the Ganges of this cutting, which was 
 enclosed in a golden vase filled with oil, its journey 
 to the sea coast of Ceylon, and its subsequent 
 triumphal progress from the coast to this spot — not 
 to mention the miracles it performed upon the way — 
 is too long and Alladinish for me to remember, or 
 you to believe. This, however, is the result of the 
 imported cutting right enough, I expect." 
 
 ** I expect those Tamil invaders cut it down for 
 firewood, really, and that the Cingalese, when they 
 returned, planted another fig tree," stated Desmond. 
 
 **No, I don't think so," Gordon said. "The 
 Hindoos venerate the same tree, so I expect they looked 
 after this one all right." 
 
 *' Next story, please!" demanded Mallory, 
 flippantly. " Now that I am worked up to it, I can 
 
 L 
 
i62 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 stand a lot. Besides, I simply must write to my 
 father to-night, and I need copy." 
 
 " We will just take a look at the big Buddha down 
 below, and then we shall have to cut across country 
 for half a mile or so. There's another dagaba which 
 my conscience demands that I shall inflict upon you. 
 There are, of course, heaps of little temples all over 
 the place, and probably many more still buried, but 
 we must skip the minor things." 
 
 The yellow-robed priest led the way back to the 
 courtyard. Below the elevated shrine which they had 
 just left was found a door leading to a large room, in 
 which the image of an enormous yellow Buddha, 
 quite twelve feet high, reached to the ceiling. Round 
 about its base were many burning candles, and offer- 
 ings of jasmine and oleander flowers. Several 
 women, upon their knees, with clasped hands, were 
 praying silently. 
 
 "This is the women's special Buddha," explained 
 Gordon. " Only women pray here." 
 
 "Ah, at last," laughed Margaret, 'Vwe find our 
 sex's rights. I thought that the poor despised things 
 had none." 
 
 "Oh, I think they get on all right even here," 
 answered Gordon. " Cingalese women don't do 
 themselves at all badly." 
 
 "Showing that brains will count anywhere," 
 remarked Cicely. ' 
 
 " Or charm," added Desmond. 
 
 " Why not both? " cried Cicely merrily. 
 
 Gordon led the way across country. Passing the 
 Government Agent's bungalow and the church, they 
 picked up a long road which ran between various 
 small bungalows, and emerged upon waste land 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 163 
 
 covered with portions of ruined sculpture of all kinds. 
 In parts, the jungle had completely overgrown the 
 granite stairways and pillars, but, rising up above the 
 tree tops, there stood out against the blueness of the 
 heavens what appeared to be a small hill, covered with 
 trees and scrub, and surmounted by a decapitated 
 brick factory chimney. 
 
 *'That is the Ahhayagiriya dagaha,'' said Gordon. 
 'The one which is as high as St. Paul's. In fact, it 
 is fifty feet higher— four hundred and five feet. The 
 diameter of the dome is three hundred and sixty feet." 
 
 *' Thanks! I apologise," interrupted Mallory, 
 taking out a note-book, ''Please wait until I write 
 this down for father. He is a nailer for figures." 
 
 " Here is a carving of a seven-headed cobra, which 
 is beautifully done," remarked Desmond, kicking a 
 stone with his foot. "You had better sketch this, 
 Mallory." 
 
 " Would you like a gin and bitters? " murmured 
 Mallory. " My brain has collapsed utterly." 
 
 "Oh, do look at those sunset tints!" exclaimed 
 Margaret. " That golden-crimsony sort of vapour 
 shading into violet is too wonderful! However 
 imposing these dagabas may have been in King 
 Tissa's time, we are quite sure that sunsets then could 
 have been no better than this one." 
 
 " Let us wander back by the big tank, and see what 
 it is like across the water," said Mallory. 
 
 " The road past the tank—" Desmond began. 
 
 "Leads to the hotel by a short way," finished 
 Mallory. 
 
 " And thence to gin and bitters, I suppose you 
 mean?" intervened Cicely, with scorn. 
 
 Mallory chuckled brazenly. ''Perhaps,'' he 
 
i64 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 answered. " In any case, the tank at sunset must be 
 perfectly ripping. Come along, Miss Rosmead." 
 
 The road ran parallel to the great himd of a tank 
 which was several miles in circumference. The walk 
 beneath the trees was delightfully cool and refreshing, 
 and the Rest House was less than a quarter of a mile 
 beyond. 
 
 Mallory was obviously not at all interested in 
 sunsets. He strode ahead in silence down the foot- 
 path, and, on reaching the Rest House, threw himself 
 into an armchair and called for his favourite evening 
 appetizer. 
 
 The air was very still and hot. Margaret watched 
 the darkness creep over the heavens, and sighed 
 happily. All the earth seemed at peace, and even 
 those that lived therein. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 Jack Mallory sat at a small writing-table on the 
 upper verandah in the throes of letter writing. Cicely, 
 dressed in an evening frock of pale blue crepe de 
 chine, slowly sauntered across from the piano. It was 
 half an hour after dinner. She had been fitfully 
 playing the "Merry Widow" waltz, but, with the 
 excuse that it was too hot for even the exertion of that, 
 she had shut the piano. 
 
 Desmond was smoking at the far end of the 
 balcony. Gordon and' Margaret were immersed in 
 a game of picquet. The punkahs swished sleepily 
 overhead. 
 
 Cicely glanced with apparent casualness at 
 Desmond's immovable figure. As if by the influence 
 of telepathy, the latter turned and smiled as he met 
 the girl's look. She shook her head with an air of 
 petulance. Her flushed cheeks, her half-parted lips, 
 and the sweet seriousness within her eyes as she drew 
 nearer to Mallory did not fail to attract Desmond'si 
 attention. With half a glance, he could see that some- 
 thing unusual was troubling her, and that it concerned 
 Mallory. A sense of delicacy drove him still further 
 away towards the seclusion of the far verandah. 
 
 Without ceremony, Cicely seated herself at the side 
 of Mallory 's table. 
 
 In surprise, Mallory threw down his pen. The 
 unexpectedness of her gracious attitude found him 
 
 165 
 
i66 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 for the moment speechless. But his eyes instantly 
 glowed with delight as he turned to welcome her. 
 
 " What is it? " he asked at random. 
 
 " Do go on with your writing. I am sure you must 
 have heaps and heaps to write about. If you haven't, 
 I will help you," she said. 
 
 " Oh, bother writing! " cried he. " It's too hot to 
 write." 
 
 Leaning his elbows on the table, he gave himself up 
 to unconcealed admiration of the dainty figure beside 
 him. 
 
 Cicely was looking deliciously pretty. 
 
 *' What a ripping dress ! " he said. 
 
 " Oh, do you like it? " she enquired indifferently. 
 
 " Rather. It suits you so well, and — " 
 
 " I am so glad you think so, because I want you to 
 like me to-night," she said. 
 
 Mallory's eyes flashed wonder. This new mood of 
 demure graciousness was beyond his comprehension. 
 
 ** You see," she continued, ''I am afraid I have 
 been — well — not too pleasant to you lately. At all 
 events, that is what Mr. Cleeve says." A mischievous 
 twinkle began to dance within her eyes. " You were 
 so badly used by me, I hear, that you thought it best 
 to ask Mr. Cleeve to intercede for you. Isn't that 
 so?" 
 
 '*Yes, I did," he replied. '* You have been 
 snubbing me so much, that I asked Cleeve to speak a 
 word as to my character, etc. Men know men so 
 much better than women do, that I thought you would 
 possibly value Cleeve's opinion." 
 
 '* Oh! And so you think a girl is not capable of 
 forming a fair estimate for herself of a man's 
 character," inquired Cicely. '' In my case you are 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 167 
 
 quite wrong. I always know when I like a 
 man." 
 
 Mallory leaned a shade nearer to her. The 
 expression of his face was not difficult to read. The 
 devouring gaze that he lavished upon the girl at 
 his side was only too plainly translatable. Cicely 
 instinctively moved her chair a little farther off. 
 
 '* And I have always been able to understand you 
 quite easily," she added. 
 
 " Do you mean that, in spite of all your snubbing, 
 you really do like me " stammered Jack. 
 
 Cicely turned a pair of astonished eyes upon his 
 flushed face, and laughed gently. 
 
 " Why, of course, you foolish boy," she answered. 
 *' Surely you know that." 
 
 For an instant Mallory's face fell. Then, glancing 
 quickly at the picquet players, he reached across and 
 seized Cicely's hand. 
 
 " But, Cicely, listen!" he whispered hoarsely. 
 
 " Oh, it is nothing to be so serious about, is it? " 
 she interrupted hastily. " We are friends again, 
 n^est ce pas? " 
 
 Slipping her hand from beneath his, she slowly rose 
 to her feet. 
 
 Mallory impulsively rose also. 
 
 "But I am afraid that it has long ago got beyond 
 the stage of friendship with me," he began. 
 
 " Oh, well, Mr. Mallory," she answered, stifling a 
 well-feigned yawn, *' I am sorry that you do not wish 
 to be friends. I thought you would like it." 
 
 " Oh, but I do," he whispered agonizingly. " You 
 understand what I mean quite well. Do listen for one 
 moment. What I want to say is serious. I must 
 speak to you." 
 
i68 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 "Oh, please don't be serious to-night," she 
 pleaded. ** You don't know how tired I am. I really 
 must go to bed." She turned and held out her hand, 
 smiling sweetly. " We are friends, aren't we? " 
 
 Mallory groaned with impotence, and, dropping her 
 hand, sank back into his chair. 
 
 '* Yes, I suppose so," he said lugubriously. *' Good 
 night." 
 
 Cicely's departure reminded the others of the late- 
 ness of the hour, and that morning must see them early 
 astir, so they were not long in following her example. 
 
 The car was at the door next morning, snorting 
 impatiently, long before anybody but Gordon and 
 Desmond was ready. As the girls appeared upon 
 the scene Desmond arrived from the direction of the 
 kitchens, chuckling with amusement. 
 
 " I went for a short walk towards the town," he 
 said. ** There is no end of a noise of drums going on 
 down there, and the place is decorated with little flags 
 on long poles." 
 
 " Oh, beating tovi-toms,'' explained Gordon. 
 ''They always make that poisonous noise whenever 
 there is a festival of any kind. They are kettle drums. 
 The natives will pound upon them all night and all 
 day with hardly any cessation, and I won't allow them 
 on my estate unless they ask permission. When any 
 big event is on the tapis I grant the permission, and 
 then clear out myself for a day at the Hill Club at 
 Nuwara Eliya." 
 
 " Yes, I saw some of the drums," said Desmond, 
 "and gathered that something special was going on. 
 I have just been to interview one of the waiters here 
 about it. He says it is a big religious festival which 
 will go on for several days. He) explained that it 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 169 
 
 would be a bad time, as many men would get drunk 
 and dissipate for days in consequence — ' Same like 
 Master's Good Friday,' he added." 
 
 "What a day to chose as a simile!*' cried 
 Margaret. 
 
 *' That is why I am amused," answered Desmond. 
 
 " Do you lazy people know," asked Gordon, ** that 
 we have to get to Jaffna to-day ? I may mention that 
 Jaffna is at the extreme north of the island, and^ 
 although the island Is small, still, we've got to go 
 about a hundred and twenty miles before dark. If we 
 get off at once, we can run in and inspect a little rock 
 temple that I wish to show you, and also get a glance 
 at Mihintale as we pass." 
 
 *' What/ That place with the beastly flight of a 
 thousand steps? " gasped Mallory. 
 
 *' Yes. But we shan't have time to climb up. I 
 have just got a wire from a friend of mine who lives 
 in the fort at Jaffna. He is a bachelor government 
 official, and has a nice large house to which he has 
 invited the lot of us. He says he is meeting us at a 
 little Rest House about fifty miles from here, and 
 expects us to tiffin." 
 
 It was still early morning, and the air was com- 
 paratively cool. The car slipped rapidly past the 
 remains of The Brazen Palace, through the native 
 town, and within a few minutes was in the open 
 country. Presently Gordon pulled up in a roadway. 
 On their right was a footpath, a few yards long, 
 leading between two small tanks towards a rock, upon 
 the side of which was a temple approached by a short 
 flight of steps. 
 
 An old priest and a young one came briskly 
 forward, — the former carried an enormous key of 
 
170 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 nearly a foot in length. The ground about the rock 
 was sandy, and in it had been freshly traced, with a 
 stick, a criss-cross pattern such as might delight a 
 child. 
 
 Gordon spoke a few words in Cingalese. The old 
 priest smiled and pointed to the sand. 
 
 " That is drawn," he said in his own language, " as 
 an adornment to the surroundings of the temple. We 
 honour Buddha by making the place beautiful. Come 
 and see my temple! " 
 
 The old man climbed the stairs, and with his great 
 key unlocked a door. Inside was a tiny room. 
 Opposite the door stood a large Buddha, gorgeous in 
 fresh paint and decorations. About its base was a 
 collection of little buddhas of every conceivable size 
 and variety, amongst which reposed a tray heaped 
 high with silver rupees, bracelets, rings, earrings, 
 and other articles of value. 
 
 *' Good gracious! " exclaimed Cicely. *' What on 
 earth will he do with them all ? " 
 
 The old priest smiled urbanely, his clean-shaven 
 bronze face puckering into a hundred creases. At 
 Gordon's question, he pointed to the rows of small 
 huddhas, and smiled. 
 
 '' The silver offerings are melted down into those," 
 he said. *' When the tray is full enough, we shall 
 make another." 
 
 Mallory was examining a visitors' book which lay 
 upon a little table behind them. The priest turned and 
 pointed to the names in the book. Amongst them 
 was that of the Crown Princess of Germany. With 
 much pride, he then brought forth some photographs 
 which he had collected. There were various priests 
 amongst them, including himself, but the piece de 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 171 
 
 resistance was a large nhoto of the young princess, to 
 which she had affixed her autograph. 
 
 The old man bade them ' good-bye ' with reluctance. 
 He liked talking and shewing his treasures, but 
 accepted, with thankfulness, a donation of a few rupees 
 for his temple. 
 
 Cicely, for reasons of her own, now elected to occupy 
 the front seat. Mallory, in consequence, thought it 
 was high time that he was allowed to drive the car 
 again. His request, however, being met with 
 unanimous refusal, he was forced to retire in gloom to 
 the tonneau. 
 
 A few miles farther on, Gordon turned off the main 
 road. Straight ahead appeared the hill of Mihintale, 
 around which, stretching as far as the eye could reach, 
 were level rice fields and jungle. 
 
 " This is the place I told you about," said Gordon; 
 ** where Mahinda first met King Tissa. Mahinda 
 died here eventually, and is buried, not far ofT, in a 
 small dagaba, made oT masonry instead of the usual 
 bricks." 
 
 *' Another injustice to women ! " guffawed Mallory. 
 "What's on top of the hill? " 
 
 ** A tank, cut out of the solid rock, which is called 
 the Snake Bathing Pool. There is a large five-headed 
 cobra cut out of an overhanging rock which is on 
 one side of the pool. This cobra was supposed to 
 have curative powers over those who bathed, and 
 nobody who killed anytning was allowed near the 
 place." 
 
 " I can quite understand now why Buddhists object 
 to killing animals," said Margare^'t. " One might, 
 according to their belief, be killing one's own 
 relations," 
 
172 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 " I think I should like to be a woman in the future 
 existence," remarked Mallory. '* I would have great 
 fun out of the men. With my previous know- 
 ledge of the ways of men, I would lead them the 
 deuce of a life— provided, that is, that I was a pretty 
 woman." 
 
 '* Oh," said Cicely, catching his eyes with meaning, 
 " fhen you consider that it is a fair and proper thing 
 for a woman to play the deuce, as you call it, with 
 men, do you? " 
 
 Mallory's face fell. Cicely laughed lightly. 
 
 "Of course, it depends on the circumstances," he 
 stammered. 
 
 Gordon and Margaret were already waiting at the 
 car, so Desmond joined the other two. The sun was 
 shining out of a perfectly cloudless sky, and 
 apparently there had been no rain for months. The 
 jungle fairly crackled with dryness, and the ground 
 was as hard as a brick. 
 
 Cicely glanced across at Desmond. Within her 
 eyes was a look of challenge which to Mallory was 
 beyond understanding. 
 
 " And do you also think, Mr. Cleeve," she asked, 
 " that a woman should play with a man under certain 
 circumstances? " 
 
 " I am afraid that, rightly or wrongly, a pretty 
 woman invariably does play the deuce, as Mallory so 
 elegantly puts it, with a man under any 
 circumstances," he replied slowly. 
 
 "Oh," laughed Cicely, "but I am sure there are 
 heaps of men whom no woman could influence." 
 
 " I myself haven't come across them yet," replied 
 he simply. 
 
 " You'll get no tiffin if you don't hurry. We have 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 173 
 
 over forty miles to do yet before we reach our halting 
 place," called Gordon. 
 
 " Fm not one of them," murmured Mallory. 
 
 *' Pouf ! Youl Who ever thought you were? " 
 cried Cicely. " But even if you are easily overcome 
 by women's wiles, I think you are beautifully 
 resilient," she added sweetly. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 The road to the north ran almost level. An 
 occasional small village was passed, but after the 
 first twenty miles or so, hardly a sign of habitation met 
 the eye. Now and again a bird would fly across the 
 road, or a few chattering monkeys would grimace 
 amongst the overhead branches, but no other signs of 
 life were visible. The region of dagabas and ruined 
 palaces was a thing of the past. The land that they 
 were rapidly approaching was, with each mile, 
 approximating to that of India. 
 
 Gordon let out the brakes and reserved his attention 
 for the accelerator. The syren screeched through the 
 jungle in long blasts of agony. Presently the railway 
 line appeared on the left, and a mile-post marked the 
 seventieth mile from Jaffna. 
 
 " We ought to get lunch in about twenty minutes at 
 this rate," said Desmond. " We are doing forty 
 easily." 
 
 **Good!" ejaculated Gordon. ** I hope young 
 Martin has turned up all right. He is an ingenuous 
 young man who ought to fall in with your ideas of life, 
 Mallory. You will finH him an excellent fellow, who 
 drifts with delightful casualness through the troubles 
 of this wicked world. It was extremely sporting of 
 him to offer to put up such a formidable party." He 
 laughed softly. *' He isn't averse to ladies' society, 
 
 174 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 175 
 
 however, and as Jaffna, I believe, possesses practically 
 no feminine charms whatever, I think that he is 
 probably looking forward to seeing us. He little 
 knows what sort of a young woman Heaven has given 
 me for a niece." 
 
 " I think Heaven has been remarkably considerate— 
 has, in fact, pampered you," asserted Cicely blithely. 
 " Is he nice looking? " 
 
 " Who? " asked Gordon, peering steadily down the 
 road. 
 
 " Mr. Martin, of course." 
 
 ''Not bad. Tall and well-built, and delightfully 
 cheery," answered Gordon absent-mindedly 
 
 '' Humph ! " grunted Mallory. 
 
 The figure of a man suddenly appeared stalking 
 down the road ahead, and a moment later the low Rest 
 House building shot into sight. 
 
 '' There he is now," cried Gordon. '' Hooray! " 
 
 The pace gradually slowed down, and in another 
 minute Gordon pulled the car to a standstill. A tall, 
 fair, young man of about twenty-three years of age, 
 with a round, clean-shaven face, waved his hand 
 joyously. 
 
 '' Good fellow! " cried Gordon. *' I'm jolly glad to 
 see you. I hope you will be able to come along with 
 us after tiffin. It will be a squash in the tonneau,. 
 but you won't mind that, I'm sure. This is my niece, 
 Miss Rosmead; i\Iiss Cleeve, Mr. Cleeve, and Mr. 
 Mallory are behind." 
 
 Martin glanced sEyly at Cicely, who smiled 
 encouragement. A suspicion of a Blush rose to his 
 cheeks as he bowed politely, and turned to open the 
 door. 
 
 " I hope you are all hungry," he said, " because I 
 
176 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 have worried the Rest House keeper grey ever since I 
 turned up this morning. I think you'll like Jaffna. 
 We can play tennis, and there is plenty of sailing and 
 fishing." 
 
 "It is very kind of you indeed to have us, Mr. 
 Martin," said Margaret. " We are certain to like it.'* 
 
 Martin's comprehensive smile seemed infectious.' 
 Margaret found herself laughing at nothing, and the 
 others followed suit. The Rest House cook was 
 already on the run from the back premises. The 
 spontaneous gaiety and humour of their new acquaint- 
 ance was decidedly exhilarating. Corks soon began 
 to pop, and despite the heat and flies, everybody was 
 in the highest spirits. Even Jack Mallory, whO' had 
 been very quiet all the morning, let himself go once 
 more, and regaled them with stories of an Irish Militia 
 camp which threw them into roars of laughter. 
 
 ** A funny incident came up before me a few days 
 ago at Jaffna," said Martin. "In my official 
 capacity, I was called upon to listen to the story of a 
 Burgher girl who wished to complain of the 
 unwelcome attentions of a man of her own class. Why 
 she came to me I cannot say, as the whole thing was a 
 storm abou't nothing. The lower classes of Burghers, 
 as you have probably heard, are only half educated in 
 English. The consequence is that they are notorious 
 for the amusing w^ay in which they express themselves. 
 This girl blushed (as best she could with a walnut- 
 juice skin) as she stood before me, and I had to try 
 and put her at her ease. * You must regard me,' I 
 said, as an official, and not as a man." 
 
 "Jupiter!" exclaimed Gordon. "And may I ask 
 what you did with your face during your examination ? 
 As the confidant of a young woman in the troubles 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 177 
 
 of love, you must have afforded a delightful 
 spectacle." 
 
 '' I controlled my face with remarkable severity," 
 replied Martin, grinning. " I made her repeat in 
 detail what had happened. * He put his arm about 
 my waist,' she said, * and whispered.' * What did he 
 whisper?' I demanded. She giggled. * He said — 
 Almira, I have a feeling for you ; you must give place 
 for that.' * Well, and what did you say? ' I asked. 
 ** I said — Joseph, I am a poor girl, but I can still earn 
 enough rupees at the mission to keep the dog from the 
 manger. ' " 
 
 '* What on earth did she mean? " cried Mallory. 
 
 *' She meant, of course, ' the wolf from the door,' 
 which was near enough for a Burgher." 
 
 "Reminds me," said Gordon, "of a Burgher at 
 a Colombo hotel. He wished to impress the 
 dining-room with his European tastes. In a loud 
 voice he summoned the waiter. 'Heigh, man,' he 
 cried, ' roast beef and no mint sauce I How dare 
 you?'" 
 
 Desmond chuckled. " One's sense of humour out 
 here need not die for want of nourishment." 
 
 "Not a bit of it," laughed Martin. "Even the 
 stolid Tamil can produce episodes of his own idea of 
 humour. He wouldn't call it humour, but that is the 
 way it appeals to me. I came across a case lately of a 
 coolie on a tea estate, who was regularly had by a 
 confidence trick man of his own caste. The manager 
 of the estate encourages his women pluckers to save 
 their money by putting it into jewellery. That is a 
 well-known way, of course, for Tamil women to bank 
 their savings. Instead of their rupees lying in the 
 bank, they carry them in the form of earrings and 
 
 M 
 
178 CICELY m CEYLON 
 
 bracelets. The women on this estate were full of 
 jewellery, which the estate paid for and charged to 
 them. One day an innocent stranger came along, 
 and, meeting a coolie of the estate on the public road, 
 entered into conversation with him. The stranger 
 related that he had dreamt a dream which he felt con- 
 vinced was true. Although he had never heard of 
 this estate before, he had been told in this dream that 
 under a certain tea bush was buried a case of gold. 
 After some preliminary palaver he agreed to enter into 
 a partnership with the coolie, in return for which the 
 latter would conduct him as a guest to his hut, and, 
 being conversant with the geography of the estate, 
 would assist in unearthing the treasure. Later on, 
 apparentlv, it was revealed to the dreamer that a charm 
 of gold and silver must be produced before certain 
 incantations relative to the position of the tea bush: 
 could become effective. The coolie produced his 
 wife's jewellery. The stranger, holding the jewellery, 
 led him at night to the highest point of the estate. 
 There, under a certain bush, they dug with their hands 
 until they realised that they ought to have brought a 
 hoe. * I will return for a hoe,' said the confidence 
 man, * whilst you stop here and watch the tea bush — 
 otherwise, amidst all these bushes, we may not again 
 find the bush! ' The innocent coolie did as directed. 
 At daylight he was found still guarding the bush. 
 Where his partner was by that time nobody yet 
 knows." 
 
 " Ripping I " exclaimed Mallory. " It was a more 
 elaborate scheme than the three-card trick, but the 
 results were as good." 
 
 " Time to go," said Gordon. " If you will honour 
 me, Miss Cleeve, by sitting in front, we will pack the 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 179 
 
 youth — and beauty — higgledy-piggledy into the 
 tonneau. We still have sixty miles before us, and I 
 want to cross Elephant Pass by daylight." 
 
 It was a tight squeeze in the tonneau^ but they 
 managed it somehow. Cicely, sitting between 
 Mallory and Martin, was sublimely oblivious of her 
 surroundings. She talked to Desmond, who was on 
 Mallory 's left, as if the latter was a member of the 
 spirit world. Mallory, who had seized the seat nearest 
 Cicely with marked avidity, became momentarily more 
 and more subdued. 
 
 Desmond could see but occasional glimpses of 
 Cicely's face, but in Ker voice there was a note of 
 wickedness which he did not fail to catch. Martin's 
 shy attitude would have amused Gordon not a little, 
 could he have seen it. The comprehensiveness of the 
 latter's susceptible heart was only equalled by that of 
 his habitual smile. Gordon, however, kept his 
 thoughts to him'self. Nevertheless, during the last 
 few days, not having been blind to Jack Mallory's 
 attentions, he chuckled inwardly as he wondered what 
 would happen when two hearts that might soon beat 
 as one should realize each other's rivalry. 
 
 But Gordon's mirth seemed premature— certainly as 
 regards any advance made by Martin. Cicely, from 
 the start, had diagnosed her prospective Host. She 
 liked him at the first glance, but her experience of the 
 world, as deducted from association with Mallory, had 
 armed her as with a coat of steel. She had no 
 intention of flirting with Martin. 
 
 ** I say. Miss Rosmead," grumbled Mallory, pre- 
 sently. '* I am not an illusion, you know. You might 
 speak to me sometimes. Hang it all, you can't help 
 seeing me. I'm big enough.** 
 
i8o CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 ''Oh, I see you all right; why shouldn't I? I 
 suppose you meant an hallucination," replied Cicely 
 haughtily. " An illusion is something that one knows 
 one sees." 
 
 " Oh, it is all the same. You can call me a delusion 
 if you like, only, for goodness sake, say something." 
 
 ** I'll wager that not one of you can correctly define 
 the difference between delusion, hallucination, and 
 illusion," said Desmond. 
 
 **Go on, Mr. Mallory," said Cicely, severely. 
 
 *' I give it up, straight off," groaned Mallory. '' All 
 I know is that I myself am a stern reality, and spend 
 my time in being snubbed." 
 
 " I know," declared Martin. " If you look at me, 
 and mistake me for the devil with horns and a tail and 
 all the etceteras, that would be an illusion. If you 
 saw the devil sitting beside you here, when nobody 
 was here at all, that would be an hallucination. If 
 you, Miss Rosmead, thought that you yourself were 
 a devil, that would be a most obvious delusion. That's 
 what the dictionary says, anyway." 
 
 ''Then Mallory 's cobra at Dambulla was an 
 illusion," said Cicely innocently. 
 
 "That's it— rub it in!" grunted Mallory. 
 
 " On general lines the dictionary may be quite; 
 right," remarked Gordon over his shoulder, "but, 
 concerning delusions, your applications, Martin, 
 appear to me to be doubtfully correct." 
 
 " Oh, and I am a devil then, am I? What next 
 must a dutiful niece put up with, I wonder?" 
 cried Cicely. "I'll pay you out for that, Uncle 
 Gerald." 
 
 •" We know," said Desmond, " that devils are con- 
 stantly concealed by the most charming exteriors, but 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON i8i 
 
 I believe that it is customary for angels to often hide 
 themselves as well." 
 
 Cicely's eyes gleamed wickedly as she shot a glance 
 at Desmond ; they challenged him to battle. 
 
 ** Does that mean that I must either be a devil, 
 or look like one? " she inquired, severely. 
 
 For a moment Desmond did not answer, but Mal- 
 lory laughed boisterously. Gordon and Margaret 
 were intent upon their own conversation. 
 
 ^' Well?" demanded Cicely. 
 
 " You look what you are," he whispered. '' What 
 that may be I leave to your woman's intuition to 
 discover." 
 
 '' Oh," she murmured, " that sounds as if you meant 
 to be nice." 
 
 '' What are you two wrangling about now? " cried 
 Mallory. 
 
 *' Only concerning what constitutes a charming 
 girl," answered Desmond quietly. '' And for once 
 Miss Rosmead and I quite agree." 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 The great red orb of the sun was very near the watery 
 edge of the world as they passed over the isthmus of 
 Elephant's Pass. The waters of the lagoon on either 
 side spread out in glassy calmness to the horizon, and 
 islands of cocoanut palms and palmyras appeared in 
 the evening light like mirages in the desert. A few 
 fishermen, wading waist-high, were casting their nets 
 with dexterous sweeps of their arms, and drawing in 
 multitudes of glistening little fish resembling white- 
 bait. The smell of the air, wafted across some miles 
 of lagoon, seemed, after the heat of the jungle, to 
 breathe purity and elation. 
 
 ** Jaffna seems rather a biggish place," remarked 
 Desmond. 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Martin. *' There are about forty- 
 five thousand natives, a police barracks, and a jail 
 inside the fort. It is a great district for tobacco 
 growing. There are large fields of tobacco beyond 
 the town, and the famous Jaffna cheroots are made 
 here." He smiled humorously. " You had better 
 try them, Mallory. I personally am not strong 
 enough." 
 
 Presently the low-lying native houses of the town, 
 half concealed by tall palms, slipped into view. The 
 car ran noiselessly between fences, above which only 
 the roofs of the bungalows were visible. No children 
 or wandering animals competed for place on the road- 
 
 182 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 183 
 
 way, which was almost deserted. On either side it was 
 seen that the compounds were cut off from public gaze 
 by neatly matted fences of palmyra leaves. Here and 
 there a small door was cut in the fence, through which 
 the owner of the hut and his entourage could find an 
 entrance. 
 
 The view across the lagoon in the evening stillness 
 was strangely peaceful ; fishing boats lay idly at 
 anchor after the day's work, a few sea-gulls flittjed 
 across the sands. Facing this sea road were some 
 scattered European bungalows, occupied by certain 
 officials. 
 
 Martin wished to visit a shop ; so again the car 
 turned inland. A street of white-faced cement build- 
 ings represented the business quarter of the town. 
 Upon the fronts of several of these were displayed 
 the work of native artists in bold colouring and 
 originality of outline — princes and fierce warriors, 
 riding on gaily caparisoned horses, affording most 
 interesting studies of native art. 
 
 Martin pointed out a large emporium where 
 European goods of many varieties could be sampled. 
 There the car pulled up, until a few luxuries of the 
 menu, consequent upon the influx of unaccustomed 
 feminine visitors, could be ordered by their host. The 
 European advertisements upon the front walls of the 
 shop kept their attention fully occupied during his 
 absence. The previous year's Christmas posters held 
 the most prominent place. Santa Claus, eight feet 
 high, arrayed in fur coat and snow boots, looked) 
 benignly across a hot street of staring, half-naked 
 natives. 
 
 "How very weird that seems, doesn't it?" said 
 Margaret. " I wonder what strange dreams floated 
 
i84 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 through the sleep of the little native children here 
 when they first gazed upon those wonderful posters? 
 Does Santa Claus find any counterpart, I wonder, in 
 either Mahommedan, Buddhist, or Hindu lore? " 
 
 Martin, followed by an obsequious Mahommedan 
 shopman, re-appeared, armed with a large tin of 
 chocolates. 
 
 " Now then," he cried, cheerily, ** if you will kindly 
 overlook the many deficiencies of a wretched bachelor's 
 menage, I think I may say that I am ready to face 
 my responsibilities." 
 
 Straight ahead, upon their left, was the police 
 barracks, and beyond that was the entrance to the 
 fort. 
 
 Gordon slowed the car. A broad expanse of grass- 
 grown plain and a moat surrounded the grey walls of 
 the fortress. 
 
 " The moonlight upon thq moat is very beautiful 
 from the ramparts," said Martin. 
 
 "Can we go up there after dinner to-night?" 
 Mallory asked. 
 
 *' Certainly. It ought to be delightful about nine 
 o'clock," replied their host, with enthusiasm. " It is 
 a most romantic spot." 
 
 "Are you very romantic, then, Mr. Martin?" 
 asked Cicely demurely. 
 
 "Humph! Gordon always says so. There isn't 
 much chance up here, even if one wanted it. It is the 
 dullest hole in Ceylon. You mustn't listen to a word 
 your uncle says. Miss Rosmead." 
 
 A drawbridge crossing the moat led to enormous 
 wooden gates studded with iron spikes, and the car 
 slipped across b'eneath a stone portico, upon the left 
 of which was a guard-room. A native policeman 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 185 
 
 saluted respectfully, but no sign of military occupa- 
 tion caught the eye. Pyramidal heaps of ancient 
 cannon-balls of ail sizes, and a small cannon or two, 
 faced the entrance. 
 
 ''Those spikes in the gates," said Martin, "were 
 
 for the purpose of defence against elephants. In 
 
 times of siege they prevented the elephants from 
 
 battering in the door with their heads. You will see 
 
 ' 1680 ' cut in the stone over the gate." 
 
 "Charles the Second's reign," remarked Mallory 
 promptly. 
 
 "Good gracious!" exclaimed Cicely. "Really, 
 Mr. Mallory, your superior knowledge is quite 
 embarrassing." 
 
 "The fort was originally built by the Portuguese 
 about that year," laughed Martin. "Early in the 
 next century the Dutch besieged the place by land, 
 and cut off all chance of reinforcements coming by sea 
 from Goa. It took them a year to starve out the 
 Portuguese, but they got this place in the end. They 
 then pulled down the fort, and built another after the 
 fashion of Prince Maurice of Nassau— whoever he was. 
 We took it from the Dutch, and now it is deserted 
 even by our troops.*' 
 
 " Well done ! " exclaimed Gordon. " I find myself 
 confronted by a rival— another man from Cook's I " 
 
 Martin laughed. " I have only just learnt it all 
 myself. The Dutch church inside is the best thing to 
 see." 
 
 "I think this an intensely romantic spot, Mr. 
 
 Martin, and it is very nice of you to take so much 
 
 trouble for us," said Margaret. "Mr. Gordon is 
 
 jealous of your descriptive powers." 
 
 Meanwhile, the car had entered the fort. A large 
 
i86 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 open square, covered with green turf, fronted them.. 
 Houses of minor officials occupied two sides of the 
 square, whilst upon the side facing the entrance gate 
 were to be seen the large stone houses at one time 
 occupied by officers of the Dutch and English garri- 
 sons. On the right of the line, a long low stone 
 building, with an extraordinarily spacious verandah, 
 at once caught their attention. 
 
 " I hope that palace belongs to you, Martin," called 
 Gordon. 
 
 ''I'm afraid not," replied their host. "That is 
 called the King's house. It is only used by big- 
 wigs when they come interfering with our comfort and 
 peace of mind on inspection duty. The Governor 
 and Chief Justice live there for a few days once in a 
 blue moon." 
 
 The road on the right passed a couple of tennis 
 courts, next to which a square church rose high above 
 the ramparts. Turning sharply to the left, past the 
 King's house, Gordon pulled up the car before the 
 entrance to a house separated from the road by an 
 attempt at a garden. 
 
 " By Jove, Martin, this is a palace! " cried Gordon. 
 
 " It looks very nice and cool, and I am very 
 hungry," added Cicely. 
 
 '* There are beautiful great stone baths that you 
 can actually swim in," said Martin, jumping to the 
 ground. ** I have heaps of rooms, too. These 
 Dutchmen evidentlv liked doing themselves well." 
 
 A couple of Tamil boys hurried from the bungalow 
 and began to help Peter unload the car. 
 
 " Dinner ready, boy? " asked Martin anxiously. 
 
 " Yes, master." 
 
 " Plenty of turtle soup? " 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 1B7 
 
 "Yes, master, Two turtles have got." 
 
 "Ye gods!" exclaimed Mallory. "We are not 
 expected to have our Baths in turtle soupi, are we? " 
 
 ** You can if you like," answered Martin, grinning. 
 " They catch heaps of them here. They are collected 
 by the fishermen during the week, and kept on their 
 backs in a hut on the beach. On Sundays they kill 
 them." 
 
 " Do the poor things have to lie there on their backs 
 for, perhaps, a whole week? Isn't that very cruel ? " 
 asked Margaret, sauntering up the path. 
 
 "The police once came to the conclusion that it 
 was; but the Colombo authority on natural history 
 apparently did not agree, so the same rule continues," 
 explained Martin, leading the way into the bungalow. 
 
 It was already dark within. The door opened direct 
 into a drawing-room, furnished with several long cane 
 chairs and plenty of comfortable arm chairs. The 
 stone-paved floor was covered with a thick rug. There 
 was a commodious writing-desk, and many small 
 tables, laden with books, filled odd corners. A crim- 
 son-shaded standard lamp glowed welcomingly. The 
 room was large and of unusual height. 
 
 "What a splendid room!" exclaimed Margaret. 
 " The Dutch certainly seemed to have liked plenty of 
 space." 
 
 "Yes, all the older bungalows of that time, built! 
 in the hot parts of the island, were very lofty and airy. 
 Modern buildings are, by comparison, poor affairs," 
 said Gordon. " I fancy that government in those 
 days was more easity worked — or, what was more 
 likely, the natives more easily robbed. I don't think 
 that either the Portuguese or Dutch were liable to 
 overdue consideration of the likes and dislikes of the 
 
i88 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 natives. In any case, it would seem that money was 
 plentiful and labour probably cheap." 
 
 The dining-room, opening out of the other room, 
 was equally large and lofty. The l^edrooms, 
 approached from the verandah, had been built on 
 the same generous scale. Margaret and Cicely w^ere 
 given the largest apartment to themselves, and the 
 men found beds in the smaller rooms. Off the large 
 room was a stone-paved bathroom which contained, 
 as Martin had said, an enormous stone bath. Steps 
 led to the bottom of the bath, which was fed with 
 water by a trough running from a pump outside, and 
 in a small courtyard, abutting upon the wall of the 
 fort, an ancient well supplied unlimited water. The 
 soft evening breeze from the lagoon blew refreshingly 
 through the house. 
 
 Martin's guests were delighted with the novelty of 
 their new quarters. They had been on the move so 
 long that the prospect of a week's peace in this 
 secluded corner of the world appealed to them most 
 alluringly. It is possible to comparatively hide one's 
 self in an English village, but the nearness of 
 trammelled civilization must be there an ever-present 
 thought. Here, there was no city for hundreds of 
 miles. The history of this place, also, in which they 
 suddenly found themselves, had laid hold upon Cicely 
 and Margaret with an urgent appeal to their sense 
 of sympathy. An old-world atmosphere permeated 
 every nook and cranny. What histories might these 
 walls reveal, could they but speak ! What throbbing 
 hearts may have struggled in vain to sleep within 
 these rooms I What tales of love, of tragedy, per- 
 haps, and even of death, may have been enacted on 
 the spot where they now stood! 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 189 
 
 ** I think, Meg.,'* said Cicely, with excitement 
 beaming from her eyes, " that this old house is per- 
 fectly fascinating. I intend to explore every corner of 
 it. I hope it isn't full of ghosts, but I fear tlie worst. 
 Is your bed big enough for two, dear? " 
 
 ** It is too hot for two, anyway,'' answered 
 Margaret, laughing. "Oh, dear, I do hope that no 
 ghost will w^ant to share my bed with me." 
 
 The sound of a gong reverberating through the 
 building caused Cicely to suddenly spring to her 
 feet. 
 
 " Oh, how that frightened me ! " she gasped. "I 
 suppose it only means dinner after all." 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 Dinner proved to be all that had been expected of it. 
 In such an out-of-the-world place the delicacies of a 
 modern hotel could hardly be expected, but if well 
 made turtle soup, and fish whose freshness was 
 certified for by the fact that it had only that morning 
 been gaily swimming in the lagoon, is of any special 
 value, then their young host had no cause for shame. 
 
 *' It there any ghost slory connected with this house, 
 Mr. Martin? " asked Cicely during dessert. 
 
 " I haven't heard of any, and I can truthfully state 
 that my sleep, so far, has never been disturbed by 
 spirits from another world." 
 
 ** Or this world either, I hope," cried Gordon, 
 facetiously. ** In my young days we drank water! " 
 
 " I am quite sure that the spirit of some Portuguese 
 or Dutch maiden haunts the place," said Desmond. 
 '* With a history such as this fort has, it would be 
 insulting to the place to believe otherwise. For 
 instance, I am quite prepared to-night to find that 
 the spirit of a Dutch officer with a bright red dagger 
 wound in his heart will rise from the well, and, stalk- 
 ing across my room, stand in melancholic grief over 
 my sleeping figure, in the belief that I am the body 
 of his long-lost sweetheart. It stands to reason that 
 it should be so." 
 
 " Oh," whispered Cicely, '* I do hope he doesn't 
 come and stand over me ! " 
 
 " I assure you. Miss Rosmead," said their host, 
 
 190 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 191 
 
 with misdirected earnestness, " you need fear nothing. 
 Mr. Cleeve is a — er — dangerous alarmist. Please 
 forget his flights of imagination, and come up to the 
 ramparts to see the moonHght on the moat. Will 
 you?" 
 
 '* Oh, yes, please. I should like to immensely." 
 
 In another few minutes the whole party wandered 
 forth into the moonlit square, and, escorted by Martin, 
 crossed to a flight of steps leading to one of the 
 bastions. A broad promenade ran along the top, from 
 which they could look over a low parapet into the 
 moat, fifty feet below. Turning to the left, their host 
 escorted them towards 3\ small bungalow built upon 
 the level of the ramparts themselves. As they 
 approached, the sound of a piano floated across the 
 warm, still air. The doors of the house were wide 
 open, and upon the verandah were several arm-chairs 
 inviting repose. 
 
 " What an ideal place in which to dream dreams! " 
 murmured Margaret. 
 
 **Shs-h!" whispered Martin. "Sit down and 
 listen. He's quite capable of playing for an hour, 
 if left alone. And he plays jolly well, too." 
 
 "Chopin's Nocturne in F minor," said Margaret. 
 ** Let us sit on the wall, Mr. Gordon, and drink it in 
 — the music, and the night, and all." 
 
 Looking down upon the dead glassiness of the 
 moat, and beyond to where the waters of the lagoon 
 shimmered in the moonlight, the scene seemed' 
 redolent of the romance of ages. The very spirits of 
 departed Dutch officers, their wives and sweethearts, 
 sat about on every side. Beside the tree at thein 
 elbows the spirit forms of a man and a maid whispered 
 sweet nothings beneath its leafy shade. It needed no 
 
192 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 imagination to see them. Amidst such an environ- 
 ment their absence would have been much stranger 
 than their presence. The girl, in high ruff and 
 farthingale, was shyly bending her head, her corn- 
 flower blue eyes half closed, whilst, leaning over her, 
 a tall soldier in brown jerkin whispered softly into her 
 ear. 
 
 The musician paused for a moment, and Martin 
 slipped through the open door. Presently, the seduc- 
 tive notes of Beethoven's " Moonlight Sonata " 
 drifted out into the shadows. Mallory, half asleep 
 in an arm-chair, closed his eyes. 
 
 Cicely rose languidly from her chair beneath the 
 portico, stretched her supple figure with indolent 
 grace, and stepped across towards a gun embrasure, 
 where still lay a rusty spiked cannon. Meditatively, 
 she steadied herself with her hand against the gun, 
 and peered into the moat. Desmond slowly dropped 
 from his seat upon the wall and moved towards her. 
 Her slim, white figure, silhouetted against the stone 
 wall, looked like some fairy nymph which m-ght 
 vanish away at the first disenchanting breath of earth. 
 
 Desmond's footstep, gentle though it was, aroused 
 her from her reverie. She glanced up quickly and 
 met his gaze. Her eyes, soft and limpid in the moon- 
 light, her half-parted lips, the poise of her head, her 
 whole attitude, half-expectant and appealing for 
 sympathy, touched a chord within his heart which 
 drew him involuntarily nearer to her. 
 
 For a moment neither spoke. Then Cicely, break- 
 ing into a self-conscious ripple of laughter, again 
 looked down into the depths of the moat. 
 
 "What a place to weave romances about!" she 
 exclaimed. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 193 
 
 **Yes," he agreed. "It is very difficult for me 
 to realise that three months ago I was enveloped by 
 the musty atmosphere of Lincoln's Inn. The glamour 
 of the East is certainly no myth. I have yielded to 
 its potency without one protesting wriggle, and I 
 don't care how tightly it holds me." 
 
 '' And so have I," she murmured contentedly. 
 
 Some birds rustled in the branches of the tree ; a 
 hazy cloud drifted across the moon ; the piano ceased ; 
 a lizard dropped from the wall with a dull thud ; a 
 frog in the moat croaked jubilantly. Martin's 
 voice resounded across the verandah, and the world 
 of reality again asserted itself. 
 
 Cicely's eyes twinkled suspiciously. 
 
 '* But I notice that you are still practising law even 
 out here," she added. 
 
 '* Practising law? " 
 
 " Yes. You are advocating on behalf of Mr.! 
 Mallory." 
 
 "Ah! At all events, I hope you have given up» 
 snubbing him. He is a very good fellow. He — er— - 
 comes, I believe of a very good family. He — er — 
 his father appears to be rich. He — " 
 
 " Good gracious, what a lot of things," cried Cicely. 
 
 But may I ask what all this has to do with me? I 
 have been quite nice to him lately, and we are now 
 acknowledged friends. One must not give him too 
 much. He is rather inclined to want too much." 
 She nodded her head sagely. " Boys are apt to be 
 like that." 
 
 "Ah! That is where he thinks his shoe' 
 finches. Is it really too much that he asks, Miss 
 ^osmead? " 
 
 For quite half a minute Cicely examined the bricks 
 
 N 
 
194 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 of the wall-top. Then she shot one fleeting glance 
 at Desmond's downcast face, and her own face flushed 
 hotly. All signs of mirth had left her. Her glance, 
 grave and troubled, again sought the moat. 
 
 " Do you mean," she asked, wearily, *' that you 
 would wi'sh me to marry Mr. Mallory — should he 
 ask me? " 
 
 Desmond lit a cigarette and inhaled its smoke very 
 slowly. 
 
 "It is not for me to say that," he replied. " As 
 Mallory was accustomed on the ship to regard Meg 
 as your chaperone — and as I am her brother — I sup- 
 pose he had some idea that you might listen to my 
 opinion of him." He paused, drew a deep 
 inhalation, and added: "And so — er — I spoke for 
 him." 
 
 " Oh, I — see," drawled Cicely. " You were acting 
 in a professional capacity. You hold what I believe 
 is called a brief for Mr. Mallory. Is that it? " She 
 laughed merrily. " Have I still got to listen to your 
 address to the jury, or is it all over now ? " 
 
 " Yes. I only promised to speak once. I fulfilled 
 that promise at Anura'dhapura. The remainder must 
 lie with him — and you." 
 
 " Well then, I suppose I may congratulate you' 
 upon the eloquent way in which you have conducted, 
 the case. You did it very nicely." 
 
 Suddenly he turned and met her mischievous, 
 laughing eyes. His own were strangely grave, and; 
 his lips twitched nervously. 
 
 ** And you will do — " he began. 
 Cicely shook her head. " I'll think it over," she 
 replied. 
 "Ah." 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 195 
 
 " But, you know," she continued, " I must warn 
 you that I still rather like that other programme 
 which you said was approved of." Her mouth 
 quivered, and from beneath her lashes flashed a 
 coquettish glance of devilment. '' I am still thinking 
 of what you called a * fling.' It sounds, somehow, 
 rather nice. How does one begin, please? " 
 
 Desmond smoked on in silence. 
 
 '' Do help a little," she cried. 
 
 '* I don't think you are likely to find a beginning 
 difficult," he replied, smiling. 
 
 '' But I shall need a little teaching, if I am to be 
 a success. You'll tell me when you see me going 
 wrong, won't you? " she pleaded. 
 
 ''Humph!" 
 
 The noise of sudden laughter from the bungalow 
 reached them. Above the other voices could be heard 
 that of Mallory. Involuntarily, Cicely paused to 
 listen. Mallory was evidently telling an Irish story. 
 The finale was half drowned by an explosion of 
 laughter. " And the old lady said that with her one 
 tooth she'd back herself to stab a pickled onion, against 
 time, with anybody. — " 
 
 A moment later the three men were seen coming 
 from the bungalow. Mallory paused on the verandah 
 and looked comprehensively about him. 
 
 ''Quick," whispered Cicely. "Here comes Mr. 
 Mallory." 
 
 " What am I to be quick about? " 
 
 " Your promise to tell me if you see me going 
 wrong." 
 
 " I won't." 
 
 " You must! It is the duty of a chaperon to do 
 these things." 
 
196 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 '' I retire from the post forthwith," he repHed. 
 
 *' Your resignation is not accepted," she answered. 
 " Your serious duties are perhaps only beginning. I 
 know I shall need heaps and heaps of help." 
 
 Mallory strode across the grass. ''Oh, here you 
 are! Mr. Scott is a very good fellow. He has been 
 telling all sorts of good stories. He wants you all 
 to come in and have something to drink." 
 
 '* All right," replied Desmond. " But I expect it 
 is getting very late, isn't it? " 
 
 " I feel as if it was about time to lay me down to 
 sleep," said Cicely. **I hope all those ghosts are 
 safely tucked away in their wells and places for the 
 night." 
 
 '* Cicely," called Margaret, " come and allow me to 
 introduce Mr. Scott. I am afraid we have been very 
 rude in not pres^enting ourselves until now." 
 
 With a backward, challenging glance at Desmond, 
 Cicely ran lightly across the grass. Mr. Scoft was 
 politely offering the use of his piano to Margaret dur- 
 ing the time of her visit, and his services in any 
 other capacity in which he could be useful. 
 
 He was a dark young man, with a clever face and 
 a pleasing manner. He insisted upon their all par- 
 taking of his hospitality, which they were obliged to 
 do. It was, therefore, quite an hour later before 
 Martin's sleepy guests reached their rooms. They 
 had been through a long day, and beds had been 
 never more welcome. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 Jaffna is not noted for its coolness. But then again, 
 it is seldom that there is not a sea breeze to keep the 
 air moving. The ramparts, certainly in the early 
 morning, were delightfully fresh after the heat of the 
 night. 
 
 Despite their fears of ghosts, Cicely and Margaret 
 had slept like humming-tops. Martin, smoking a 
 cigarette on the verandah, was patiently awaiting 
 them. Although it was only seven o'clock, the early 
 breakfast of eggs and tea was already on the table 
 in the dining-room. Desmond was the first to appear, 
 but Mallory's voice was still rising in discordant song 
 from the neighbourhood of his bath-room as the girls 
 emerged from their quarters. 
 
 Martin's smiling face and cheery manner were 
 extraordinarily infectious ; Margaret watched him, and 
 wondered how soon she would be the recipient of the 
 confidences which she could already see lurking in 
 his eyes. 
 
 ** Who is coming to see the Dutch church? " asked 
 Gordon, entering the room. 
 
 " I'll capture the keys from the old man who looks 
 after the King's House," replied Martin, ''and we'll 
 all go together." 
 
 The church, being only a stone's throw from the 
 bungalow, could be seen from the verandah, and their 
 host told them what he knew of it as they walked 
 
 197 
 
198 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 across. It was a square-built edifice, constructed in 
 the form of a Geneva cross, with a gabled roof. 
 
 ''The Dutch built the church," said Martin, "in 
 lieu of the Portuguese one of ' Our Lady of 
 Miracles,' which went to ruins. Of course the old 
 Portuguese church was Roman Catholic ; this one is 
 Protestant." 
 
 Entering the great doorway, they were at once 
 struck by the excellent proportions of the building, 
 which was almost empty. There were no pews or 
 chairs, but on, the left of the entrance was a small 
 alcove in which reposed a beautiful bronze bell. 
 
 "That," explained Martin, "is the only remnant 
 of ' Our Lady of ^Miracles.' That and a few 
 memorial stones, which are now in the floor of the 
 nave, were removed here from the old ruins." 
 
 They read with reverence the inscriptions upon the 
 rows of stones, wondering what the people who rested 
 there had been like. They appeared to be all officials, 
 but amongst the Dutch ones was one small stone of 
 pathetic interest — to the memory of the seventeen- 
 year old wife of the predicant, or Dutch padre. 
 
 " One can quite imagine the Dutch soldiers and 
 their wives," said Margaret, "after listening to 
 a lengthy discourse Trom some Lutheran divine, 
 hastening up the stairs to promenade upon the ram- 
 parts, and gossip away an hour before going home." 
 
 " More probably the young ones darted off, leaving 
 the old vrows to go home and see that the Sunday 
 dinner was in readiness," remarked Desmond. 
 
 " There are also some records of the Ceylon Rifles," 
 said Martin, pointing to the north wall of the nave. 
 " One can see by the dates that they were quartered 
 here in the forties of last century. The regiment is 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 199 
 
 now disbanded, and when one compares it with that 
 of the Dutch occupation, its history does not interest 
 one one Httle bit." 
 
 ** Let us walk along the ramparts now, like our 
 Dutch predecessors," said Margaret. ** We can 
 imagine ourselves to be VanSy of modest apparel but 
 proud hearts." 
 
 " Come along," cried Martin. " We'll walk round 
 the whole wall, and imagine ourselves Dutch or 
 Portuguese as you like." 
 
 As he spoke, Martin le'd the way up the stone steps 
 to the ramparts, from which broad walk could be seen 
 the whole moat, with the open country beyond, 
 stretching in every direction. 
 
 Sauntering slowly towards the far side, they came 
 upon a glorious view of the lagoon, spreading before 
 them in all its shimmering morning brilliancy. At 
 its eastern entrance, some ten miles as the crow flies, 
 a round, grey fortress rose out of the very middle of 
 the sea. 
 
 **That little fort," explained Martin, climbing on 
 top of the wall, "was once an outpost guarding the 
 entrance to the lagoon It is on a minute Island. The 
 Portuguese, who built it, seemed to be rather good at 
 soldiering, but the Dutch captured it, all the same. 
 And when the latter got into it, they prevented any 
 ships coming from Goa with troops to relieve the 
 besieged Portuguese in this fort here." 
 "Rather nippy, hey?" cried Mallory. 
 *' I will take you for a sail out there to-morrow," 
 said Martin. " We can have tiffin at the Rest House 
 on the island of Kayts, which you see to the left, and 
 sail back with the afternoon breeze." 
 
 ** I am sure we are back in the sixteenth century 
 
200 CICELY IN CEYLDN 
 
 again," remarked Margaret, looking about the ram- 
 parts, where there were many ancient cannons. Most 
 of these had been carefully spiked, and were stuck, 
 muzzle down, in the gravel. Still, despite their practi- 
 cal uselessness, they did not fail to witness to a past 
 glory such as the ancient fort was never likely to 
 see again. 
 
 Mallory had been inducing Cicely to explore every 
 far corner and retreat. So long as she allowed him 
 to shadow her, he was in the seventh heaven of con- 
 tent. But, try as he would, she' would listen to no 
 attempts to lead the conversation into personal 
 channels. The present, with its entrancing points of 
 interest, completely satisfied her desires. 
 
 '' I cannot imagine a more delightful trip than this,'* 
 he said, enthusiastically. " When I left home I ex- 
 pected to have a lonely time, but it has all turned out 
 so differently." He sighed deeply. " In fact, I 
 daren't think of the time when it will all come to an 
 end." 
 
 " I suppose you will be off to Japan after this? " 
 questioned Cicely, with apparent indifference. " I 
 should like to see Japan. You are a lucky young 
 man. I expect you'll meet lots of nice people, too." 
 
 '' Don't!" whispered Mallory, with a groan. 
 
 Cicely's rounded eyes expressed unbounded 
 astonishment; then she broke into rippling laughter. 
 
 ** Good gracious! What have I said now?" she 
 asked, innocently. 
 
 " Daren't think of it," he moaned. " I simply 
 cannot go East while you go West." He paused, his 
 eyes filled with longing. '' I can't do it. Cicely. 
 Unless you positively drive me away, where you go 
 I must go," 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 201 
 
 "Oh, dear!" she groaned, pathetically. "That 
 seems to throw a dreadful lot of responsibility upon 
 poor me." 
 
 "Come to tijfinV interrupted Gordon suddenly. 
 " Do you know, young Cicely, that this is mail day 
 at Jaffna? We have promised to play tennis with 
 Mr, Martin this afternoon, but you have all your 
 English letters to write first, so you had better collect 
 what you are pleased to call your brains immediately 
 after tiffin, and write down your least wicked items 
 of news." 
 
 "Brains, indeed!" cried Cicely. "That is 
 immensely rude. Ever since I was a little 
 child and read about the babes in the wood, I have had 
 a very poor opinion of uncles. At this present 
 moment I see no reason to alter my original ideas." 
 
 "Fortunately," retorted Gordon, laughing, "no- 
 body's opinion is infallible, not even that of a girl." 
 
 " Oh! " exclaimed Cicely, stamping her foot, " If 
 I told you what I really thought of you, it would be 
 so dreadful that I dare not tell you. I will therefore 
 refrain ; but I am thinking it all the same— so there ! " 
 
 "Don't pay any attention to him, Miss Cicely," 
 said Desmond. " He is a brute ! Permit me to escort 
 you back to the bungalow. I do not know if such a 
 course is according to precedent, but if it is, I should 
 advise you to cut such a chaperon off without even the 
 usual shilling." 
 
 The girl ran lightly down a stone stairway, and 
 Desmond followed. 
 
 " I think your advice very good, Mr. Cleeve," she 
 replied. "Please note— to all whom it may concern 
 — that there is a vacancy for a chaperon in 
 the entourage of a perfectly charming young woman. 
 
202 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 Applicants must be gCK)d-tempered and — well— not too 
 dreadfully conscientious regarding duty." 
 
 Desmond chuckled softly, and his eyes met Cicely's 
 in amused understanding. 
 
 " Any applicants? " she asked. 
 
 Desmond smiled, and filled his pipe. 
 
 '' Must he have good references from a previous 
 employer? " he asked. 
 
 " No — um, yes, I thmk so," she answered, doubt- 
 fully. 
 
 " Ah ! Then I fear I can think of nobody suitable. 
 The only one I have in mind failed miserably in his 
 last place." 
 
 Cicely's lips twitched provokingly. "Do you 
 happen to know why?" she inquired. "Per- 
 haps, poor man, he was given to imaginings. I have 
 always noticed that a chaperon who sees things thatj 
 do not exist, and is blind to those that do, is never — " 
 she glanced upwards with a roguish lift of her 
 eyebrows, — " well — quite satisfactory." 
 
 "Poor Gordon!" exclaimed Desmond, solemnly. 
 " No wonder he has failed." 
 
 Cicely again suddenly lifted her eyes and searched 
 Desmond's countenance. His gaze, however, re- 
 mained steadily fixed upon the entrance gate of their 
 host's bungalow, and his face didn't move a muscle. 
 
 " Uncle Gerald has nothing to do with my remarks 
 whatever," she said, frowning. " Men are dreadfully 
 stupid. I am so glad I was not born a man." 
 
 "So am I," agreed Desmond. 
 
 " Oh ! " The petulant look upon her face gave way 
 before a wave of delicate pink. "Why?" she 
 ^demanded. 
 
 Desmond suddenly halted on the doorstep. Martin 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 203 
 
 was already inside, calling for tiffin, and the others 
 were sauntering from the sundial across the grass 
 towards the bungalow. 
 
 "Because," whispered Desmond softly, "I would 
 rather that you were your own self than anything else 
 in Heaven or earth." 
 
 •'Oh!" she gasped. "H'm! Who is flirting 
 now, I should like to know? " She laughed merrily. 
 "You do it very nicely, too. Do you know, I am 
 beginning to think that you must have had a good 
 deal of practice at one time and another." 
 
 "Well," he answered, recovering himself, "what- 
 ever may have been my wicked past, I feel that I still 
 have lots to learn. By comparison, I feel my 
 ignorance terribly." 
 
 "Never mind!" whispered Cicely. "I will teach 
 you to hold your own. Isn't that good of me ? " 
 
 " If you two w^ant any tiffin, you had better come in 
 out of the sun," interrupted Margaret from the 
 verandah. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 In spite of the tropical heat, the tennis proved 
 decidedly exciting. After five o'clock the air grew 
 somewhat cooler, but to those who had never before 
 played the game in tBe tropics the perspiration to 
 which their bodies soon became reduced was a revela- 
 tion to them. The courts of rolled earth were also 
 new to them. Mallory, who was accustomed to carry 
 all before him on grass courts in Ireland, found him- 
 self not only quickly reduced to a condition of body 
 resembling wet pulp, but was equally reduced in self- 
 esteem by being just one second too late for a service 
 which rose off the hard ground with unbelievable- 
 rapidity. 
 
 Scott and Martin, having declared themselves 
 the defenders of Jaffna's laurels, challenged all com- 
 binations, and won easily. Then Gordon and Cicely, 
 as a family, challenged the Cleeves. This was a hot 
 match in more senses than one. Mallory, as self- 
 constituted umpire and critic, sat on the bacTc of a 
 chair making his comments between Gargantuan 
 draughts of whisky and soda. 
 
 Beneath a giant tree the servants had placed a 
 table laden with many fluids, alcoholic and otherwise. 
 The night breeze had not yet arisen, and thQ earth 
 still gave forth a heat as from newly-baked bricks. 
 The light was rapidly failing, but at last, after 
 Herculean efforts, Gordon and Cicely proved 
 triumphant. 
 
 204 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 205 
 
 "You look quite hot, Miss Rosmead," said Mal- 
 lory, facetiously. 
 
 "Hot? Of course I look hot," cried Cicely, 
 indignantly, mopping her streaming face with a most 
 ineffective handkerchief. " I'm boiling. I never 
 knew before that one could become so hot — and live. 
 I feel that flames may shoot forth at any moment from 
 my body. Please bring me a drink, someone — some- 
 thing very large indeed, please." 
 
 "Oh, dear," gasped Margaret, "I think I must 
 have lost quite half my weight." 
 
 Cicely accepted an enormous tumbler filled to the 
 brim with lime squash, and sank into a chair. 
 
 " There,'* she cried, presently. " I have 
 temporarily satisfied a thirst that has never before been 
 equalled." 
 
 The gentle night breeze rustling the tree tops proved 
 very refreshing when it arose, as they idled for half 
 an hour in luxurious ease in the gathering dusk. 
 The soft tropical night seemed to envelop their souls 
 as well as bodies with its enchanting repose and a 
 sense of indolent irresponsibility. 
 
 Cicely siglied happily, and accepted a second lime 
 squash with no apology. Margaret followed suit. 
 According to Mallory, the value of such a glorious 
 thirst was the weight of its quenchable fluid in gold. 
 
 That evening they all dined with Mr. Scott. The 
 presence of ladies^wfthin the fort was such an unusual 
 occurrence that he had pleaded to be allowed to help 
 entertain them. It was also through him that Martin 
 had obtained the loan of a commodious lateen-sailed 
 boat for their voyage to the mouth of the lagoon on 
 the morrow. 
 
 It was early when they sought their beds that night. 
 
2o6 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 The unusual exertion of tennis was telling upon them.; 
 Cicely had become so sleepy at ten o'clock that no 
 moonlight effects, or even the fear of ghosts, could 
 have kept her awake one half hour longer. 
 
 But the shadow upon the sundial was only at six 
 o'clock the next morning when they were again seated 
 at the breakfast table. Even with a fresh and favour- 
 able breeze, it would take them nearly three hours to 
 navigate the winding channel of the lagoon to the 
 village on the island where luncheon w^ould await 
 them. If the breeze failed, they might get no luncheon 
 at all. 
 
 An hour later, they stood upon the beach by the 
 turtle house. Boats laden with fish were unloading 
 their spoil as they waited for the boatmen to prepare 
 the boat. 
 
 An eager throng of natives wandered hither and 
 thither amongst the flapping fish as they were cast 
 upon the shingle. There and then began the 
 bartering for the sale of the catch. And curious fish 
 they were, too ! Never before, outside of a museum 
 collection, had the visitors seen such animals. Two 
 young sharks of three to four feet in length, half a 
 dozen great ugly ray fish, and half a boat-loadi of a 
 large, scaly form of perch, were spread out for inspec- 
 tion and sale. Amongst these, eight turtles 
 of various sizes reposed unhappily upon their backs. 
 Desmond turned over a couple, who, in slow and 
 solemn fashion, lost no time in heading for the water. 
 These were, however, easily caught, and again joined 
 their pow^erless brethren in captivity. Martin ordered 
 a couple of them to be sent to the fort, and then 
 preceded the party to the little pier where the boat 
 was waiting. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 207 
 
 There was quite a stiff breeze as they embarked. 
 Desmond wished to take the helm, but their host 
 preached patience. A line of white posts, protruding 
 from the water, marked the limitations of the channel, 
 which could be seen winding tortuously in both 
 directions as far as the eye could reach. On either 
 side of this channel, which was not more than twenty 
 yards in width, the shallowness of the water could be 
 gauged by the occasional sight of a man wading. 
 Here and there a boy in a native dug-out canoe 
 anchored to a stake sat fishing in the shallows. Sea- 
 wards, the great lateen sails of large boats, laden to 
 the water's edge with cargo, were dotted against the 
 horizon. 
 
 After watching for a time the evolutions of the old 
 Tamil skipper of their craft, and noting the sudden- 
 ness with which the shallows merged into the depths 
 of the channel, Desmond claimed the tiller. She was 
 a large boat, accommodating the whole party with 
 comfort in her stern sheets. 
 
 Mallory, basking in the shade of the small awning, 
 spread himself upon one of the thwarts, and Cicely 
 was beaming with delight as the boat heeled; 
 over to the breeze and rushed through the water. 
 Presently she slipped up to the little forward 
 deck, and, lying prone with her chin upon her hands, 
 watched the wavelets dancing in the sunlight as the 
 bows cleft the clear blue water. 
 
 They reached the landing-stage at the island an 
 hour before noon. Transhipping into a row boat, 
 they at once aimed for the little fortress. A couple of 
 native brigantines, the sterns of which rose high above 
 the water like some Spanish galleon of old, floated 
 idly at their anchorage. 
 
2o8 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 ** Those little native vessels have probably come 
 from India," said Gordon. " I myself should be 
 very sorry to travel in one of them even so far as 
 that." 
 
 " I imagine," said Desmond, " that Columbus's 
 vessel when he crossed the Atlantic Could not have 
 been an atom larger than one of those. Think of it! 
 How would you like to go through the Bay of Biscay 
 in that one there, Meg? " 
 
 *' Ugh ! The very thought of it makes me shudder," 
 she replied. " When we return, w^e must really get 
 off at Marseilles." 
 
 '* That time, I hope, is so far distant that you need 
 not settle details yet — need you?" murmured 
 Gordon. 
 
 " I am only too ready to forget it," she replied. 
 *' Life here seems one long peaceful dream." 
 
 Except for a native caretaker, the minute island 
 upon which the fort was built was deserted. There 
 was a stone landing jetty, near which a door opened 
 through the wall. The bottom of the enclosure w^as 
 occupied by deserted barrack rooms, but there was a 
 flight of stone steps leading to the ramparts above, 
 up which raced Cicely. Mallory followed. 
 
 *'Gee whiz!" exclaimed the latter. ''I thought 
 Jaffna was hoT, but this place is like a real live oven. 
 I am glad I was not a Dutch soldier a couple of 
 hundred years ago." 
 
 " According to Buddhists, you may be one later 
 on," cried Cicely. 
 
 " Or a Dutch w^oman," added Mallory, laughing. 
 
 '' Never I Not even a Dutch one," replied Cicely, 
 scornfully. 
 The sun, beating do'wn with noonday perpendicu- 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 209 
 
 larity upon the stone walls and buildings, had heated 
 the place until it really seemed uninhabitable. No 
 doubt the little garrison of the time of its occupation 
 spent much of their leisure ashore. The trees of the 
 village and the roofs of palmyra-thatched huts visible 
 within a mile of the battlements seemed, by contrast, 
 peculiarly inviting. Seawards, there was an unin- 
 terrupted view of the channel and open water. A gun 
 or two on such battlements could do much against 
 wooden ships. 
 
 *' I have had enough of this," exclaimed Margaret. 
 ** I'll wait in the boat until you others are ready.*' 
 
 ** What excftement it must have been trying to 
 pepper an enemy's ship from here," said Mallory. 
 
 '* Humph I And trying to dodge cannon balls from 
 the said ship in a space of twenty yards square I" 
 exclaimed Gordon. 
 
 "Who's for tiffin?" asked Martin, wiping his 
 perspiring forehead. 
 
 ** Everybody, I should think," replied Gordon. 
 **At all events, I will risk contradiction by saying 
 so." 
 
 ** I, for one, am quite ready," cried Desmond. ** I 
 do not know if I am representing Shadrach, Meshach, 
 or Abednego, but that in a former state I was one or 
 the other, I have, during the last few seconds, not 
 ceased to doubt." 
 
 In' another few moments they were all in the boat 
 again, and the crew were bending to their oars. The 
 village, consisting of a police post and a handful of 
 bungalows, was soon reached. The Rest House 
 manager, having been warned, was in readiness for 
 them. A Government official and his friends did not 
 arrive every day at Kayts. The lunch, mostly tinned, 
 o 
 
210 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 was not luxurious, but they were all hungry, and so 
 forgave much. 
 
 "The Rest House keeper has little chance of 
 exercising his clumsy powers, I fear," said Martin, 
 " but he is a decent fellow, and painfully polite. The 
 inhabitants here are very crude. One of them, some 
 little time ago, was so desperately interested in the 
 funeral of the late King Edward that he ventured to 
 beg me to lend him some of the English illustrated 
 papers. On returning them, he wrote me a letter of 
 thanks which was so quaint that I learned it by heart. 
 It ran like this : — 
 
 * Dearest Sir, 
 
 ' I earnestly beg to return the papers you 
 have kindly obliged me yesterday. For such an 
 affection in me God may bless you and bring you 
 every success and much oblige. 
 
 * Yours sincerely, 
 
 ' P. Adam Saibo.' " 
 
 "One laughs, naturally," said ^Margaret, "but 
 could you, Mr. Martin, write even such an appropriate 
 letter as this in Tamil? " 
 
 " No, I must acknowledge that I couldn't," replied 
 ]\Iartin. " I am quite prepared to admit that 
 Europeans make just as great mistakes as the wretched 
 natives. I heard a story only the other day, 
 which, I fear, has amused us ribald bachelors 
 immensely. A young lady, just arrived by the mail 
 boat from home, went to stay with a married friend 
 in Colombo. On her first night she was very late for 
 dinner. The other guests had arrived, and her hostess 
 was becoming anxious. At last the girl appeared from 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 211 
 
 her room in a very ruffled state of mind. Her hostess 
 inquired as to what had happened to delay her. 
 'Oh,' she replied, ' I am so sorry, but, you see, I 
 asked your maid to help me dress, and she was so 
 frightfully stupid, in putting my stockings on inside 
 out, that I am late.^ ' But,' replied her hostess, 
 'I do not understand; I have no maid.' 'Who, 
 then,' asked the girl, ' was that creature with a top 
 knot and comb?' * Oh,' shouted her hostess, 
 almost in hysterics, ' that was our Cingalese second 
 man servants! ' " 
 
 Mallory's burst of laughter, intermingling with an 
 attempt to swallow a generous draught of Pilsener beer, 
 threw him into such a choking condition that he fled 
 to the verandah. By the time he had recovered, the 
 others were returning to the boat. 
 
 Catching the evening breeze, they sailed back at a 
 spanking pace, reaching the landing-place before 
 sunset. 
 
 Cicely, for some reason best known to herself, led 
 Martin away from the others on the way back to the 
 fort, and entered into earnest conversation. 
 
 " I believe he is quite as superstitious as anybody," 
 she whispered finally, "and if you can manage 
 it, I am sure he will be quite as frightened as any 
 girl." 
 
 " Leave it to me," murmured Martin, chuckling. 
 " I will go off to the chemist's straight away." 
 " I'll go with you," said Cicely. 
 ''Splendid!" cried Martin, his eyes beaming, 
 " Come along up this side street." 
 
 When they entered the fort half an hour later, 
 Martin carried a parcel, and they were still gurgling 
 with confidential laughter. Their faces, how^ever. 
 
212 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 had so perfectly assumed their normal expressions by 
 the time they reached the bungalow, that their joke 
 — whatever it was — passed absolutely unnoticed. 
 
 It was shortly after midnight when Cicely, 
 chaperoned by Margaret, slipped softly through the 
 door of her bedroom, and tip-toed along the verandah 
 until they met Martin opposite the open window of 
 Mallory's room. 
 
 "Look!" whispered Martin, tragically, catching 
 Cicely by the arm and pointing through the window. 
 
 Cicely and Margaret, hand in hand, crept up to the 
 window and peered into the darkness as directed. 
 In the shadows of that side of the bungalow it was, 
 despite the moonlight outside, absolutely dark. 
 
 " Oh ! " gasped Cicely aloud. '' How dreadful ! " 
 
 "Good gracious!" ejaculated Margaret, drawing 
 back in fear. " What is it? " 
 
 "A ghost!" breathed Martin, suppressing his 
 laughter. 
 
 Margaret, taking courage, again approached the 
 window. The dim outline of Mallory's sleeping 
 figure, in his bed, could be seen at the far end of the 
 room, whilst at the near end, propped against the wall 
 near the door, stood an image horrible enough in 
 appearance to frighten the wits out of anyone with a 
 grain of superstition. A white sheet draped what 
 should be the body of the ghost, and the head consisted 
 of what appeared to be a skull marked out in blue 
 phosphorescence. 
 
 " Oh, how ghastly! " whispered Margaret. 
 
 " Mr, Martin did the head with a piece of black 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 213 
 
 cardboard and some phosphorus," gurgled Cicely. 
 " It was jolly clever of him." 
 
 *' Shall I begin? " whispered Martin. " You must 
 be ready to flee as soon as the fun is over. He must 
 not see us." 
 
 " I think we ought not to be here at all," protested 
 Margaret. 
 
 " Oh, yes, please," begged Cicely. '' I wouldn't 
 miss it for anything." 
 
 A moment later, Martin, slinking along towards the 
 bedroom door, threw a length of rusty chain heavily 
 on the floor, with a clatter enough to wake any sleeper 
 that ever breathed. 
 
 *'The ghostly shackles that the poor uneasy spirit 
 carries!" explained Cicely into Margaret's horrified 
 ear. 
 
 What Margaret wished to answer was never known, 
 for the chain had hardly fallen when the figure of Jack 
 Mallory was seen to sit up in bed and glare, spelji- 
 bound, at the awful apparition leering opposite him. 
 The wretched victim, however, half-asleep, did not 
 waste much time in speculation. With a yell that 
 awoke the rest of the household into terrified trembling, 
 he sprang from his bed and fled away from the ghost 
 towards his bathroom. 
 
 Cicely, dragging Margaret, was just on the point 
 of rapidly retreating to her room, when there was a 
 crash, and a noise like a torrent of water, followed by 
 another yell from Mallory. 
 
 In a moment the whole household was in an uproar. 
 Martin himself shewed what appeared to be remark- 
 able coolness. Dragging the draped image out into 
 the open, he dexterously thrust it through his own 
 bedroom window and under his bed. Then, running 
 
214 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 back to the girls, he began, as Gordon and Desmond 
 reached the scene, to Inquire of the servants what had 
 occurred. 
 
 " What was that second crash? " whispered Cicely, 
 ** I do hope nothing serious has really happened? " 
 
 " It was only a kerosene-oil tin, full of water, which 
 I rigged up over his Fathroom door to help to cool 
 him if he ran out that way— which I was sure he 
 would," breathed Martin. 
 
 "Oh, dear! Poor Mr. Mallory!" murmured 
 Margaret. " He must be drenched to the skin." 
 
 The next instant Mallory, unearthed from the bath- 
 room by Desmond, stood on the verandah and 
 attempted to answer questions, the correct replies to 
 which were a sealed book to him. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Mallory, Vv^hat have you been doing?" 
 cried Cicely in well-feigned surprise. 
 
 " I saw " — he stammered impotently. 
 
 " Not a ghost? " inquired Cicely quickly. 
 
 " I thought I saw—" 
 
 "Look here, old chap," laughed Desmond, "you 
 have evidently been having nightmare, and you 
 have frightened us all half out of our senses. 
 How did you get so w^et? Have you been in your 
 bath?" 
 
 " I'm off to bed," cried Cicely with unusual haste. 
 "Come, Margaret! Mr. Mallory has been seeing 
 ghosts. I hope I shan't yell like that if I see any. 
 Good night. 
 
 In a few minutes, Martin, having lit a lamp and 
 helped Mallory into dry pyjamas, had quieted the 
 household. The mystery, however, was by no means 
 cleared up to Mallory's satisfaction, and he absolutely 
 declined to return to his bed until Martin had dropped 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 215 
 
 a broad hint as to the nature of the apparition which 
 had frightened him. 
 
 The household assembled at breakfast some hours 
 later, as if nothing had happened. Mallory, who 'M 
 broad daylight was beginning to think that he had 
 behaved like a coward, blushed scarlet as he met 
 Cicely's kind inquiries after his health. 
 
 '' Don't pay any attention to them, Mr. IMallory," 
 said Margaret. " they would all have been frightened 
 at the same thing, I am quite sure." 
 
 *' Well, I suppose T may as well acknowledge that 
 I was frightened," admitted Mallory, with remarkable 
 good temper. " I think I might have been let off that 
 shower bath, though." 
 
 "So do I," whispered Cicely. "And I will be 
 unusually nice to you all day to make up for it. We 
 were brutes, weren't we? " 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 Cicely sat at the piano softly playing the " Salut 
 d' Amour " waltz. Mallory, leaning over the back of 
 the instrument, pensively watched her. The girl had 
 apparently forgotten his presence. 
 
 They had returned at dark from a game of tennis, 
 filled with a consciousness of having earned their 
 dinner^ and being quite ready for it too. After dinner, 
 Martin had pleaded for music. Cicely and Mallory 
 had run on ahead, and invaded Mr. Scott's drawing- 
 room like a mild whirlwind. 
 
 Margaret, escorted by Martin and Scott, was sitting 
 upon a dismounted cannon, listening to the views of 
 the former upon the chronic loneliness of bachelor- 
 hood in the Tropics, and Jaffna Fort in particular. 
 Margaret was proving very sympathetic, and Martin 
 grew proportionately discursive. Desmond and 
 Gordon smoked in silence, listening to the strains of 
 the dreamy waltz drifting out into the silence of the 
 night. 
 
 Desmond had been very silent all day. Since his 
 remarks to Cicely of the previous morning, he had 
 avoided the girl as much as politeness would allow. 
 To himself he described his conduct as having been 
 nothing less than that of indefensible flirting. To 
 advocate Mallory's cause at one moment, and then to 
 practically lose his own head at the next was con- 
 temptuous, if not actually dishonourable. If he was 
 
 216 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 217 
 
 to be liable to that sort of thing, the more he kept 
 out of Cicely's way the better. He might end by 
 being a fool, but he would see that he did not become 
 a knave as well. To pay a compliment such as he 
 had done was, of course, nothing. So argued 
 common-sense. '' But," intervened conscience, again 
 refusing to slumber— " had he meant nothing more 
 than an ordinary compliment, such as might be paid 
 to any pretty girl? " Whatever he had meant, he 
 promised himself that until Mallory had taken his 
 chance, his conscience should have nothing to reproach 
 him with. The girl's open confidence in the value of 
 his opinions, her charming attempts to draw him out 
 of himself and share the charm of her youthful 
 gaiety with his dull soul, was leading him to live upon 
 her presence to a degree that was daily increasing. 
 To mistake her untrammelled friendliness for any 
 deeper feeling Avould be but ridiculous conceit, not 
 to be harboured by a sane man for an instant. That 
 there was, therefore, any renunciation in his attempts 
 to further Mallory's cause he steadfastly refused to 
 believe. 
 
 The shaded lamp threw a mellowed light upon the 
 whiteness of Cicely's neck and rounded arms as her 
 fingers gently caressed the keys. Her face, half in 
 shadow, seemed unusually thoughtful. Ever and 
 again, as she glanced slowly upwards to meet Mal- 
 lory's steady gaze, and again bent to the keyboard, 
 her face assumed a look of troubled indecision. Lately, 
 Jack Mallory had shown disturbing symptoms. 
 
 For a few moments she played without either of 
 them speaking. From outside could be heard the low 
 hum of conversation. The waltz finished, Cicely 
 sighed softly, and began to play " Braga's Serenade." 
 
2i8 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 *' You look perfectly splendid to-night," whispered 
 Mallory, suddenly. 
 
 Without answering at once, she looked critically 
 upwards at his beaming face, and then laughed 
 provokingly. 
 
 *' Which is best — splendid or ripping, I wonder? " 
 she safd. " Let me see — the last time you honoured 
 me with your eloquent admiration, I think I w^as 
 ' ripping,' wasn't I ? Have you ever considered that 
 some day some girl will imagine your compliments to 
 be in earnest? " 
 
 " Earnest? Why, of course I am in earnest. You 
 not only look ripping, but I know that you are — er — a 
 perfect ripper too. If I could only express my 
 thoughts properly I could say much more. In earnest? 
 Why, I am thinking of nobody else but you from 
 morning till night." 
 
 From beneath Cicely's lashes, a glance, not strictly 
 devoid of coquetry, met his ardent eyes. 
 
 " And what about from night till morning? " she 
 asked, demurely. 
 
 *' It, is just the same, at any time," he stammered. 
 
 Cicely slowly shook her head. For a few moments, 
 with her eyes upon the piano, she continued to play. 
 
 " Do you know," she said, presently, "I am 
 actually beginning to think that you are deceiving 
 yourself into believing that you really like me 
 seriously. You don't really mean half you say, of 
 course, nor do you — " 
 
 " I mean a great deal more than I say," he 
 interrupted, huskily. '' I— er— " 
 
 " You think you do — particularly at the moment," 
 admitted Cicely. '* To-day you think it is I. I 
 wonder who it will be to-morrow? " 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 219 
 
 ** There can be no change to-morrow, Cicely," 
 he asserted, vehemently. " It must, for always, be as 
 to-day, and as it was yesterday, and all the days. You 
 must believe me. I swear I Eave never before — " 
 
 ''But I am sure you will again," she intervened, 
 quietly. ''When that time comes I shall be very 
 much interested. I hope she will be a nice girl. You 
 know, you have promised to be a friend of mine 
 always; haven't you? Well, that means that you 
 must confide in me. You can't think how nice a 
 confidante I can be. When you meet the girl that is 
 to be 'for keeps' you'll tell me all about her, I'm 
 sure. Now, don't say you didn't promise, because 
 you did." 
 
 " Yes— I suppose I did. That is, in a way I did," 
 he stammered in confusion. *' But I didn't mean 
 what you did." 
 
 " Oh? " she cried, raising her eyebrows interroga- 
 tively. " You can't mean that, after all, you do not 
 wish to be friends? " 
 
 Mallory extracted a yellow Fraginapani blossom 
 from a vase and pulled it to pieces. " I have heaps 
 of friends," he answered. "But none of them are 
 like you." 
 
 "That's rather nice; I'm glad of that. I should 
 like to be No. i friend." 
 
 For a few moments Mallory remained strangely 
 silent. Cicely raised her eyes at last in wonder. He 
 stepped nearer the front of the piano and leant over 
 her. Instinctively she read his purpose. Suddenly 
 her fingers crashed upon the keys and the opening 
 bars of a rollicking American two-step dance filled 
 the room. 
 
 But Jack Mallory had now got the bit between his 
 
220 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 teeth. He could see nothing but that within a foot of 
 him was Cicely's supple young figure, and that was 
 all the world to him. Oblivious of the open door and 
 of those whom the sudden stoppage of the piano might 
 attract, he leaned across and seized her hands. 
 
 *" Ah, but it isn't friendship! It is love that I 
 want," he cried. 
 
 Across the girl's flushed face there spread a wave of 
 half fear, half sadness. In her glance was a pathetic 
 appeal that even he could not mistake. Her voice, 
 soft and pleading, stayed him. 
 
 " Oh, don't. Please don't, Mr. Mallory. You 
 mustn't spoil it all. I like you so much, that I don't 
 wish to lose you like this. Please understand." 
 
 A light step sounded on the verandah. Mallory 
 involuntarily dropped Cicely's hands. A second later 
 Margaret's laughing voice broke the stillness. 
 
 *' Good gracious. Cicely! If you propose desecrat- 
 ing such a peaceful scene as this by that sort of rowdy 
 music, I really must claim the piano." 
 
 " I wish you could often desecrate it in the same 
 way. Miss Rosmead," called Martin over Margaret's 
 shoulder. " That would be glorious to dance to. 
 We don't get such things as dances in this benighted 
 spot." 
 
 " Oh," cried Cicely, leaving the piano, and walking 
 outside, " You must come to Nuwera Eliya for 
 February week, Mr. Martin. We are all going. I'll 
 dance with you there, and try to make it up to you 
 for all your want of gaiety here, if you will ask 
 me." 
 
 "Oh!" grunted Mallory, beneath his breath. 
 
 *' You mustn't be too nice to him. Miss Rosmead," 
 said Scott. " You can't imagine how depressed he 
 
aCELY IN CEYLON 221 
 
 will be after you have gone. If you spoil him now, he 
 will be all the worse during the usual reaction." 
 
 ''He is talking rubbish, Miss Rosmead,*' 
 stammered Martin. 
 
 " You remember the misanthropic small boy who 
 said that he was going into the garden to eat worms 
 because nobody loved him." continued Scott, unheed- 
 ing. "Well, that is sure to be Martin's condition 
 when you have all gone. I sTiall have to feed him on 
 hairy caterpillars. Fortunately, they are cheap here." 
 
 Margaret laughed softly, and, slipping her arm 
 through Cicely's, wandered back to the wafl of the 
 ramparts. Gordon and Desmond, who had been 
 sitting upon the wall discussing politics, made room 
 for them. 
 
 Cicely suddenly became silent. She listened idly 
 I to the desultory conversation, but her thoughts were 
 her own. She could not be happy regarding Mallory. 
 That she had hurt him seriously she couldn't believe. 
 But to hurt him at all made her uncommonly 
 miserable. She had warned him as best she could. 
 i In that her conscience was clear. But her tender 
 heart couldn't rest there. To make him happy again 
 would have to be her object. She glanced upwards at 
 the starry heavens and sighed. Even the peaceful old- 
 world of Jaffna could be all awry sometimes. 
 
 The waters of the moat flickered in the night breeze ; 
 a water rat swam across to a clump of rushes ; a couple 
 of crows shifted their positions in the tree top. A 
 light, here and there, in some native dwelling of the 
 town accentuated the dark outlines of the palmyra 
 groves. The roof of the Dutch church rose above the 
 ramparts within a few yards of where they sat. From 
 the lagoon there floated landwards a soft, cool breeze. 
 
222 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 Above all was the deep purple of a tropical sky that 
 seemed to exhibit a fresh myriad of stars with every 
 tick of the clock. 
 
 As they sauntered down the steps and back to 
 Martin's bungalow, Cicely detached herself from Mar- 
 garet and walked silently beside Desmond. The latter 
 had been watching the poise of her head and her down- 
 cast face for some time. He could see at a glance 
 that there was something troubling her. He knew 
 that she would speak when she was ready. He was 
 in no hurry. During the past weeks he had become 
 accustomed to read her moods, and he was gifted with 
 that sympathy which knows the value of silence in 
 season. 
 
 They were half across the square before she looked 
 up at him. 
 
 *'Well?" he questioned. ''You are very 
 thoughtful." 
 
 ** Yes. I am not at all happy," she replied, slowly. 
 " Mr. Mallory has been troublesome. I am afraid I 
 have hurt him." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " He wants more than I can give him, and he won't 
 understand." 
 
 Desmond looked down at her bent head and bare 
 white shoulders. For some moments he seemed to be 
 studying her minutely. His lips were firmly set. 
 Several times he seemed to be on the point of speak- 
 ing, and then to change his mind. 
 
 "You don't think I should say things I cannot 
 mean, do you? " continued Cicely, at last. 
 
 ** You should speak the truth at any cost. You are 
 not the sort of girl not to know what that truth is." 
 Desmond again relapsed into silence, but it was 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 223 
 
 obvious by the movements of his lips that he had not 
 finished. 
 
 Cicely glanced upwards expectantly. 
 
 '* Perhaps you will — er — think more of Mr. Mallory 
 as you get to know him better." 
 
 '* Not in that way," asserted Cicely, shaking her 
 head, decidedly. 
 
 " Humph ! In any case I don't think that a young 
 girl should ever consent to marry a man unless she 
 thinks that he is the only man in the world for her. 
 He may not be so, but she should, at the time, think 
 so. Otherwise, later on, she may meet such a man, 
 and then it will be too late. If a girl is not young, 
 and has never found such a man, then I think that, 
 perhaps, she may be forgiven if she cares to accept 
 somebody from off a lesser pedestal." His voice 
 grew very earnest. " I would be the very last to urge 
 Jack Mallory's claims unless you could feel like that 
 towards him." 
 
 Cicely stopped at the gate and leaned back 
 reflectively against the railings. She raised her hands 
 behind her head and sighed deeply. 
 
 Desmond turned away almost petulantly, and looked 
 forth into the night. 
 
 '* If not Mallory, then some other man will come," 
 he murmured. " You must wait. I expect there is 
 such a man somewhere." 
 
 Cicely dropped her hands and traced a pattern on 
 the ground with the toe of her slipper. 
 
 '' Yes, I expect there is," she said, softly, to herself. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 In fishing and sailing on the lagoon, and in visiting} 
 the native portions of the town, two more days were 
 passed in semi-idleness. They saw Jaffna cigars 
 being rolled, and even smoked them. There was, in 
 fact, nothing more to see in Jaffna, but the spell of its 
 tropical inertia held them in such an irresponsible 
 trance that they were loth to leave. At last, however, 
 despite much bemoaning on the part of their host, the 
 day for departure actually arrived. 
 
 They started very soon after day-break. Practically 
 the only way back was by the same road through 
 Anuradhapura and Trincomalee, and as Gordon 
 wished, if fortune favoured them, to reach the latter 
 place that night, there was no time for delay. 
 
 For some days Mallory had been steeped in gloom. 
 But it would have to be a very serious blow indeed 
 that would keep him in the same state of mind for 
 many days on end. The joyousness of his boisterous 
 spirit was such that an amusing or exciting incident 
 of the road seldom failed to involuntarily elevate him 
 from the depths. Cicely had been silently noting his 
 condition. She was troubled at first, but as the days 
 following upon his outbreak in Scott's bungalow 
 passed, the puckered lines of thought between her 
 eyes grew momentarily fewer. She could not read 
 what was in his mind, but it was easy to see that his 
 
 224 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 225 
 
 journey was in no way being spoiled by the recent 
 episode of failure. Of the fact that Mallory's 
 optimistic temperament urged him on to future 
 attempts upon Cicely's heart, and thereby raised his 
 hopes once more into the highest altitudes, the girl 
 was ignorant, but that he was rapidly recovering his 
 happiness was enough to satisfy her troubled 
 conscience. 
 
 ]\Iallory occupied the seat by the driver all the way 
 to Anuradhapura. The journey was hot and 
 monotonous, and they were very glad, at length, to 
 find themselves seated at tea in the hotel. The sug- 
 gestion of Gordon that they should revisit some of the 
 dagabas was met by such a succession of groans from 
 Mallory, and even by a smiling protest from Margaret, 
 that the original programme was adhered to, and the 
 car started off at once upon the long road of seventy 
 miles to Trincomalee. 
 
 They were all more than ready for their dinner by 
 the time Trinco' Rest House was reached. It was 
 quite dark, and the meal had been ready for some time. 
 Tamby greeted them effusively, and Mallory drank his 
 health in the largest whisky and soda obtainable. 
 There was no moon, and in any case they were much 
 too tired to leave the bungalow that night, so shortly 
 after dinner they one and all drifted off to bed. 
 
 The early morning again saw them under way. The 
 glassy calmness of the harbour, and the temptations of 
 fishing and sailing which the place held out to them 
 as they walked forth into the first flush of sunlight were 
 so alluring, that they longed to loiter on in indolent 
 happiness. Gordon, however, refused to be tempted. 
 The role of a cicerone is notoriously that of master 
 rather than servant. The " man from Cook's " must 
 p 
 
226 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 not be thwarted. Gordon had to be back on his estate 
 on a certain day. He had also accepted an invitation 
 for the whole party to dine with the officers at their 
 mess at Diyatalawa Camp for the next evening. So, 
 with laughing complaints concerning their lately- 
 acquired Eastern habits of sloth, he hustled the party 
 into the car and rushed through the deserted roads of 
 Trincomalee at top speed. 
 
 '' We are now on the road which leads by the coast- 
 line to Batticaloa," explained Gordon. ** We will 
 have an early tiffin there, tea at Mahaoya, and reach 
 the Rest House at Badula to-night. I don't suppose 
 one of you have looked at the map." 
 
 '* Of course not," cried Cicely. " You really do 
 tell it so nicely, Uncle Gerald, that to listen to you is 
 ever so much better than looking at any map. When 
 you tell us about things that we are to visit, I can 
 almost see the whole thing in front of me as you 
 speak." 
 
 " When I was a little girl," answered Gordon, " it 
 was always considered very wrong to try to pull one's 
 uncle's leg." 
 
 " Oh, was it! " cried Cicely. " I am glad I didn't 
 live in those prehistoric days. How dreadfully dull 
 it must have been for girls with uncles! " 
 
 "Ugh!" groaned Gordon. ''What sins have I 
 committed that I should be burdened with such a 
 niece? In some former Buddhistic existence I must 
 have been dreadfully wicked, I fear, for I am quite 
 sure that no offences of my present life could possibly 
 meet the case." 
 
 The road was passing through a beautiful vista of 
 park-like jungle. Tree-fringed tanks spread out 
 before them. The bantering conversation died a 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 227 
 
 natural death as every moment brought forth increas- 
 ing beauties of forest and lake. 
 
 Motor cars were evidently no strangers at the place. 
 Gordon ran the car to the bank of a river and stopped. 
 Across the water could be seen a large raft. A whistle 
 from Peter aroused the ferrymen from their siesta. 
 They set to work deliberately to haul upon a rope, and 
 the raft slowly crossed over. It was quite easy to run 
 the car aboard, and with half a dozen coolies wading 
 in the water and pulling the craft by the long rope, the 
 other side was reached and the journey resumed. 
 Several of these ferries were crossed that morning. 
 
 Batticaloa was found to be a picturesque little place. 
 Except, however, for the presence of a few sailing 
 ships in the open roadstead, and the weekly arrival 
 of the touring steamer, which conveys trippers round 
 the island, it is a deserted spot. The large native 
 bazaar fringes a long lagoon, running parallel with the 
 coast line. Through the one street of uninteresting 
 native shops Gordon steered the car slowly. 
 
 They delayed half an hour for tea at the Rest House 
 at Mahaoya, in the heart of the jungle country. The 
 aspect later in the day, became more open, until tea 
 and paddy fields began to take the place of wilderness. 
 
 The western heavens were still suffused with the 
 dying crimsons and violets and the golden sheen of 
 unearthly glories as the car ran into the valley of 
 Badula, but in the East, over the tea-hills, the sky-line 
 was already (but for the presence of a twinkling star 
 or two) in densest purple. Since leaving Batticaloa, 
 the road had risen some two thousand feet. 
 
 Badula, as being in early history a large centre of the 
 Cingalee Kingdom, possesses a sentimental interest, 
 but otherwise it presents no features to tempt the 
 
228 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 traveller to dally within its precincts. Gordon had 
 elected to spend a night at the Rest House, as the road 
 to the military camp at Diyatalawa was bad and all 
 uphill. 
 
 It was a dull evening. Everybody was physically 
 and mentally tired. Mallory was temporarily 
 enveloped by a fit of depression. Desmond was still 
 strangely silent. Margaret and Gordon, after dinner, 
 disappeared towards the far end of the verandah. 
 Cicely, heaving a sigh indicative of boredom and the 
 eccentricities of the other sex in general, gave in to the 
 inevitable, and composed herself to sleep in a long 
 arm-chair. 
 
 The club, a couple of shops, a few government 
 buildings, and a small race-course comprised practic- 
 ally the whole of Badula. As there was no special 
 planters' meeting or call for a festive occasion that 
 night, the planters, whose bungalows could be seen 
 dotted sparsely about on the surrounding hills, had 
 evidently no intention of emerging from their strong- 
 holds. The club was consequently deserted, and bed 
 afforded the only escape from unprofitable thought. 
 
 Badula possesses one interesting feature, and this 
 Gordon took them to see before breakfast in the morn- 
 ing. In the disused European cemetery is a tree 
 which has grown about the tombstone of a female 
 relative of a civil servant, the stone being entirely 
 embedded in the great trunk of the tree as in a complete 
 frame. 
 
 "It has a strangely protective appearance," said 
 Margaret, *' as if Nature was determined that no 
 devastating hand of time should possibly desecrate the 
 memorial erected to a gentle heart, who, for all we 
 know, may have tended the tree in its infancy." 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 229 
 
 ** The tree certainly looks," added Desmond, " as if 
 it intends to hang on until the last trump shall shake 
 it loose." 
 
 The car met them at the cemetery gate. There was 
 no necessity for hurry, but as there was equally no 
 object in loitering in Badula, they decided to depart 
 immediately after breakfast. 
 
 The distance from Badula to the camp was only 
 about twenty-five miles, but the road was rough. 
 Winding steadily uphill, several tea-factories and 
 estates were passed on the left, where lay the valley. 
 Before them, as they slowly ascended, rose the mighty 
 hills of tea and open patna land. For two thousand 
 feet the road climbed unintermittently, then, suddenly 
 turning a corner, it shot forwards and reached the 
 summit of the pass. 
 
 *' Bandera wella! " ejaculated Gordon. *' This is 
 the terminus of the railway line from Colombo." 
 
 The view which now spread out as far as the eyd 
 could reach was of a variety that, as yet, they had not 
 seen in Ceylon. A valley, interspersed with bright 
 green patches of rice fields and occasional clumps of 
 trees concealing clusters of native huts, formed the 
 centre of the picture. In the valley, a couple of miles 
 from the village of Banderawella, whose few scattered 
 houses, railway station, and Rest House now sur- 
 rounded them, could be seen the roofs of huts, some 
 white and some red, separated like the black sheep 
 from the white. 
 
 *' There you are ! " said Gordon. " There's the old 
 Boer Camp. During the war there were several 
 thousand Boer prisoners here. The red huts were 
 occupied by the British regiments on guard, and in 
 those white tin ones lived the Boers they guarded. 
 
230 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 The whole camp was surrounded by barbed wire 
 entanglements and sentries, but the wretched prisoners 
 had little chance of escaping, in any case. To wander 
 about these uninhabited hills, miles and miles from a 
 decent sea-port, in an attempt to escape, would have 
 been a hopeless venture. Some of them did try to 
 wander at first, but after a time they learned the futility 
 of it, and gave their paroles not to escape. A reward 
 was offered for the capture of any escaping Boer, but 
 there was little money earned in that way by watchful 
 planters or natives. There was a planter, over on the 
 hill there above the camp, who caught one, and, after 
 that, he seems to have become possessed with the lust 
 of capture and consequent profit. History relates that, 
 one morning, he met two Boers wandering on his 
 estate. Smelling plunder at once, he, with subtle 
 promptitude, invited them to breakfast. They 
 accepted the invitation with hungry alacrity. Whilst 
 they were filling themselves with the best of good 
 viands, he sent for the military police. When the 
 latter arrived, he handed over the Boers and demanded 
 the advertised rewards, whereupon his guests non- 
 chalantly produced their legitimate passes entitling 
 them to be exactly where they were." 
 
 " Sucks! " ejaculated Mallory. 
 
 "A vulgar word!" exclaimed Cicely, "but, I 
 admit, expressive on this one occasion only." 
 
 *' From the hill, where you see the British huts, 
 electric searchlights could be turned on to the Boer 
 lines at night, and, in fact, the whole district could be 
 kept almost as light as day," continued Gordon. 
 " The prisoners were very quiet on the whole, but they 
 had one or two serious outbreaks which required some 
 force to quell. Those roads, which you can see cut in 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 231 
 
 the sides of the hills, were made by them. They were 
 paid for their labour by means of tickets with which 
 they could buy things at the regimental canteen in the 
 camp. They were never allowed money, as, of course, 
 that might help them to escape. They were so well 
 fed and looked after that when peace was eventually 
 declared they couldn't, for some time, be induced to 
 believe that the war was at an end. Their friends 
 wrote to them from South Africa, but still they refused 
 to believe, and they wouldn't take the oath of 
 allegiance, which was necessary before they could 
 return to South Africa. We got rid of them all at last, 
 but there is still one old irreconcilable who has never 
 taken the oath, and who loafs about Nuwera Eliya to 
 this day as a self-constituted exile. This country 
 looks extraordinarily like parts of the Natal veldt. All 
 those conical bare hills rising up, each one so very like 
 its neighbour, between us and Nuwera Eliya, are very 
 like African kopjes. Our people couldn't have 
 chosen a more home-like environment for the exiled 
 prisoners than this if the^ had hunted the world 
 over." 
 
 ** I am glad they were kind to the poor things," said 
 Margaret. 
 
 " Kind! I should think they were," cried Gordon. 
 " The Boers got everything they wanted. The con- 
 tractors for food were paid, it would seem, almost any 
 price they cared to ask for supplies. Unfortunately, we 
 are now all sufferers in consequence, because the pur- 
 veyors, up-country, have done their best to keep to the 
 Boer prices ever since." 
 
 The car slipped slowly down the incline by a road 
 which wound about the side of a hill. The coolness 
 of the air after the heat of the low country was delight- 
 
232 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 fully invigorating. Lazy, fleecy clouds floated 
 eastwards. 
 
 The road from the Diyatalawa railway station 
 dropped rapidly into the- camp. Passing lines of 
 white huts, Gordon pointed to these as the Naval 
 barracks. Blue-jackets, beaming with cheery contenf, 
 were engaged in a cricket match. A company of 
 Indian native Infantry marching back from the field 
 looked with interest at the motor. 
 
 " This is a perfect heaven for sailors," said Gordon. 
 " They are sent here in batches from Colombo as they 
 return each year from the Persian Gulf. Imagine 
 being cooped up in a little gunboat for, perhaps, five 
 months, in the climate of the gulf, without once getting 
 ashore, waiting to catch gun-runners ! There is a 
 little military Rest House here which a Sapper friend 
 of mine has put at your disposal for the night, Miss 
 Cleeve. We men can easily get some sort of accom- 
 modation in the officers' quarters on the hill." 
 
 He pulled up the car as he spoke. A small hut, sur- 
 rounded by a garden, formed the Rest House. It only 
 contained one bedroom, but there was a living-room 
 where tiffin was already waiting for all. The Sapper 
 officer. Captain Seymour, was on duty at the moment, 
 but had left word for them not to wait for him. When 
 at length he arrived to welcome them in person, he 
 brought the news that there was to be a little tennis 
 tournament in their honour that afternoon, at the regi- 
 mental mess, and he hoped they would have tea with 
 him in his hut before they started. 
 
 After lunch, Gordon induced the party to walk to 
 the Boer cemetery. The day was so cool and fresh 
 that it seemed a pity to waste it in after-luncheon sleep, 
 so, without delay, Seymour led the way down the 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 233 
 
 straight road, which ran between the British huts 
 on the one side and the empty Boer ones on the 
 other. 
 
 The cemetery, neatly fenced and shaded by trees, 
 was on the outskirts of the camp. The silent record 
 which it afforded of those who for a couple of long 
 years had lived close by was strangely pathetic. As 
 the visitors entered its little gate they could see, in 
 imagination, the funeral gun-carriage before them, 
 which so many times must have rumbled across the 
 threshold of that village of exiled dead. 
 
 Four symmetrical rows of white wooden crosses 
 occupied the one side of the cemetery. These were all 
 alike, except that, here and there, the wood was 
 replaced by a marble cross. These latter, as could easily 
 be seen, had been privately paid for from South Africa 
 at the end of the war. The names upon them were 
 mostly Dutch, but suddenly Captain Seymour came to 
 a halt before a marble cross, and read aloud a Scotch 
 name. 
 
 "Aged only seventeen, and Scotch!" he said, 
 laconically. 
 
 '* Yes," added Gordon, '* A friend of mine here met 
 the boy and recognised him. The wretched lad had 
 not communicated with his people, who lived in 
 Scotland. He was apparently very reticent as regards 
 how he happened to be fighting for the Boers. He 
 died of enteric fever." 
 
 '' Poor boy! " murmured Margaret. *' I suppose 
 he had run aw^ay from home, and was led on to fight 
 by the others." 
 
 Silently they continued their w^ay between the rows 
 of neatly-kept graves. There were over a hundred of 
 them. Each cross bore the name of the deceased, the 
 
234 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 name of his African locality, his birth date, and death 
 date. 
 
 "By Jove!" muttered Desmond, "the poor 
 beggars must have had a very depressing time when 
 this enteric outbreak overtook them. Just look at the 
 dates ! Why, there was a funeral every day, and some- 
 times two at once. Here is Christmas eve, Christmas 
 day, and Boxing day, each with its death. Although 
 their people were killing our friends and relatives in 
 South Africa at the same moment, the sight of these 
 records to me is none the less pathetic." 
 
 Crossing the central path, Gordon pointed to the 
 opposite side of the cemetery enclosure. Almost an 
 equal number of graves to those of the Boers faced 
 them. But the crosses and tombstones were not the 
 same, and the records upon them were in fuller detail. 
 
 "There lie those who died during their guardian- 
 ship of the Boers, and since. You will see several 
 regiments represented, and also a few naval graves — 
 also some officers." 
 
 "Who's for the return journey?" cried Mallory. 
 "I've had enough of this." 
 
 Cicely looked up at Mallory's depressed countenance 
 and smiled slightly. 
 
 " I had thought, Mr. Mallory," she said, with 
 delightful innocence, " that at present you rather pre- 
 ferred melancholy to anything else. You have been 
 dreadfully dull lately." 
 
 Mallory's face expressed surprise. This frontal 
 attack, after what had happened, was more than he 
 could understand. He had imagined that Cicely 
 would on no account dream of referring to his disap- 
 pointment. That she had smilingly done so required 
 some thought for elucidation. Was she asking him 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 235 
 
 to return to his allegiance to her? Before, however, 
 he could quicken his wits sufficiently to formulate a 
 suitable answer, the girl had joined Desmond and was 
 already half-way to the gate. Mallory shook his head 
 indecisively and followed, deep in reflection. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 Desmond stood in admiration before a picture which 
 hung upon the wall of Captain Seymour's little 
 bachelor sitting-room. Upon the verandah tea was 
 being dispensed by Margaret, the others having dis- 
 posed themselves in what chairs the hut afforded. 
 The view from the verandah embraced the whole camp. 
 Upon the hill, where the hospital and the officers' mess 
 stood, they could see the preparations already in pro- 
 gress for tennis. The sun was beginning to throw 
 lengthening shadows over the hill tops. The sounds 
 of activity from the camp at their feet arose like a hum 
 of bees upon the rarefied atmosphere. 
 
 For some moments Desmond studied the picture on 
 the wall intently. It was a coloured copy of a paint- 
 ing recently exhibited in the Paris Salon. The 
 exquisite face of a young girl, her head thrown back 
 and her luxuriant dark hair loose about her forehead, 
 looked out from the paper. Her large eyes, shaded by 
 thick lashes, were half shut, and her chin was lifted 
 towards the face of a man, the top of whose head was 
 alone visible. There was not the faintest suspicion of 
 voluptuousness in the attitude. Nothing could be seen 
 of the girl but the face, and it portrayed the yielding 
 to a first kiss. 
 
 Presently Cicely stood at his elbow. 
 
 "Don't you want any tea, oh chaperon?*' she 
 asked, flippantly. 
 
 236 
 

 CICELY IN CEYLON 237 
 
 ** Do you like that? " enquired Desmond, ignoring 
 her question. 
 
 ''That picture?*' 
 
 ''Yes, the face of the girl?" 
 
 Cicely put her head on one side and studied the 
 picture critically. 
 
 "Yes, rather," she admitted. " She has beautiful 
 eyes." 
 
 Desmond laughed softly. 
 M— m, I'm glad you like them," he replied. 
 
 There is a mischievous twinkle of beauty in them 
 that appeals to me immensely. And yet you can see 
 depths of sympathy within them also, of trustful yield- 
 ing, which is very alluring— and sometimes very 
 tantalising." 
 
 " Oh," exclaimed Cicely, wonderingly. " How can 
 you see so much in a picture? They are beautiful 
 eyes, but one cannot see all that." 
 
 "/can." 
 
 "Oh! Come to tea!" 
 
 Suddenly Desmond turned away from the picture 
 and looked at Cicely. 
 
 " Do you, by any chance, happen to be acquainted 
 with anybody whose eyes are remarkably like those of 
 the girl in the picture? " he asked. 
 
 Cicely glanced up at him in mute interrogation. 
 Her forehead was puckered in thought; she slowly 
 shook her head from side to side. Desmond's lips 
 twitched humorously. For a few seconds neither 
 spoke. Then suddenly across the girl's face spread a 
 delicious blush, and she dropped her tell-tale eyes to 
 the floor. 
 
 " No— I can think of nobody at all," she replied. 
 
 " I can," he said. 
 
238 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 ** It wasn't fair to lay a trap like that for me," she 
 stammered. *' Besides, I — er — said that the eyes of 
 the girl in the picture were beautiful, but I don't admit 
 that mine are like them." 
 
 " They are wonderfully like," he whispered. 
 
 Cicely moved slowly towards the door. On the 
 threshold she paused, and, looking provokingly over 
 her shoulder, broke into a characteristic trill of 
 laughter. 
 
 " Do you realise," she asked, *' that this is the third 
 compliment you have paid me ? The other two, if you 
 remember, were at Kanthalai Lake and Jaffna. You 
 are developing rapidly. Do you know, I really 
 believe I could teach you to flirt quite nicely. Is 
 it very wicked for a chaperon to flirt? " 
 
 " Wicked or not, I wouldn't try," he replied. 
 
 '' Why? " she whispered. 
 
 Desmond's gaze sought the distant hills. All trace 
 of amusement had suddenly left his countenance. For 
 the space of a dozen heart-beats he was silent. Then 
 he dropped from the clouds, and stepped very close 
 to her. 
 
 *' Because," he murmured, " I dare not — with you." 
 
 " Tea, Desmond? " called Margaret. 
 
 '' Er — yes— thanks," he answered, mechanically 
 following Cicely on to the verandah. 
 
 A few minutes later the party, escorted by Captain 
 Seymour, climbed the path to the mess. There was 
 only one tennis court, but even by the time they arrived 
 quite a litde crowd of players had assembled. Half- 
 a-dozen naval officers, a few planters, three ladies, and 
 the members of the mess itself were all eager for the 
 fray. 
 
 Gordon's friends were enthusiastically welcomed. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 239 
 
 Mallory was at once seized upon by the Irish subaltern 
 whose society at the hotel dinner in Colombo he had 
 at the time so little appreciated. As the latter clearly 
 had not in the least forgotten Cicely, it looked as if 
 Mallory might soon again have cause for jealousy. A 
 couple of young naval officers, who had been 
 at the same dance, also claimed acquaintanceship:.; 
 In fact, in a few moments both of the girls 
 were surrounded by an enthusiastic bevy of officers, 
 offering refreshments and making themselves generally 
 agreeable. 
 
 The afternoon passed pleasantly and rapidly ; there 
 was no room for dullness. After being so long away 
 from any society more exciting than Jaffna fort had 
 been able to provide, this little gathering seemed to 
 Gordon's party quite an event. 
 
 The various sets of tennis had to be hurried through 
 on account of the light, but all managed to get a turn. 
 Then out on the terrace in front of the mess hut they 
 sat in the after-glow of the sunken sun, and watched 
 the wondrous heavenly beauty of golden cloud hang- 
 ing about the hill peaks, whilst silent-footed Indian 
 servants dispensed many drinks of Eastern origin. 
 
 The time passed so quickly that Gordon jumped to 
 his feet in surprise as the notes of a bugle-call 
 resounded from behind the mess hut. 
 
 " By George! " he cried. '' There's the dressing 
 bugle. You girls will have to hurry. Dinner will be 
 ready in half-an-hour." 
 
 " Don't let him worry you, Miss Cleeve," said 
 Seymour. " They would no more think of beginning 
 dinner before you arrive than they would attempt any 
 other impossible feat of mental strength. Your 
 presence at dinner is an event in history. The societv 
 
240 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 of ladies at a mess dinner is such an unheard-of episode 
 that this will be for ever remembered in the annals of 
 the regiment." 
 
 " It sounds rather terrifying," laughed Margaret. 
 
 *' I should describe it as sounding rather nice," said 
 Cicely, turning to Mallory's subaltern friend. " I am 
 quite sure it cannot be terrifying if you are there, Mr. 
 Barry, can it? " 
 
 ** Glorious, I call it," shouted the latter, boister- 
 ously. ''You sit by me. Miss Rosmead, and \ve*ll 
 have the time of our lives." 
 
 " You won't get any dinner at all if we don't go and 
 dress," grumbled Mallory. 
 
 '' Au revoir then, Mr. Barry," cried Cicely. ** I 
 must be off." 
 
 Half-an-hour later the regimental band, stationed 
 outside the long mess building, played "The Roast 
 Beef of Old England " and the guests filed in to dinner. 
 Besides Margaret and Cicely, there were two other 
 ladies — wives of the officers — present. Neither of the 
 visitors had ever been in an officers' mess before. A 
 dinner is a dinner all the world over. There is, how- 
 ever, a fascination about the unfamiliar which appeals 
 strongly to most people. 
 
 To be present at a function where it is notorious that, 
 as a rule, only men are invited, is, to ladies, bound to 
 be peculiarly fascinating. The long mess table, laden 
 with regimental plate, the regimental colours hanging 
 from the wall, the uniforms of the officers, and a 
 hundred and one other details of the unaccustomed 
 added a zest to a meal which otherwise would have 
 been perhaps less palatable than ordinary. 
 
 The senior Major captured Margaret. Cicely found 
 herself being escorted by the Adjutant on one side and 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 241 
 
 the exuberantly-jubilant Mr. Barry on the other. 
 Mallory had been so ^* ridden off," as Barry expressed 
 it, that he found himself at the far end of the table 
 before he knew where he was. 
 
 Cicely was filled with a wild spirit of gaiety. The 
 band played seductively. The champagne glasses, 
 filled and refilled by the watchful Indian khit- 
 maghars, were smilingly raised by her vis-d-vis to 
 drink her health. The usual light banter of the mess 
 table flowed unceasingly. Various peculiarities of the 
 younger subalterns, mostly with reference to their 
 amorous susceptibilities, were good-humouredly dis- 
 cussed. Mr. Barry, with much blushing vehemence, 
 had to defend himself against a host of attacks. Cicely 
 laughed, and joined the others in refusing to accept 
 his denials. Desmond, from the other end of the 
 table, caught her glance once or twice, and returned 
 her smile. That she was thoroughly enjoying herself 
 was obvious. That Mallory's condition was the 
 reverse was equally apparent. 
 
 The menu was a long one, but at last there was a 
 pause. The servants cleared the table, and, deftly 
 removing the long slips of white cloth, left nothing 
 but the silver candelabra and centre pieces shining 
 upon the polished mahogany table. 
 
 The decanters circulated rapidly, and every glass 
 was filled; then came a pause in the conversation. 
 Cicely stopped in the middle of a sentence and looked 
 about her inquiringly. Suddenly the voice of the 
 officer sitting at the head of the table relieved the 
 momentary tension. 
 
 '* Mr. Vice, the King! " he cried, rising to his feet. 
 
 " Gentlemen, the King! " came the answer. 
 
 Everybody rose and held aloft a brimming glass. 
 Q 
 
242 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 From outside rose the strains of the National Anthem. 
 Then, with one accord, came the usual toast: — 
 
 " The King ! God bless him ! " 
 
 A moment later, the babel of conversation was again 
 in full swing. 
 
 Cicely sighed audibly. The little ceremony, so 
 customary to the officers about her, was one in which 
 she had never before shared. The sudden change 
 from gay laughter to what sounded to her like a solemn 
 prayer, and back again to the usual banter, had been 
 so unexpected that she had been left for the moment 
 speechless. 
 
 Prolonged silence, however, within any reason- 
 able radius of the men on either side of her was 
 impossible. The band broke into the " Mon Cheri " 
 waltz. Unconsciously the girl's feet began to step to 
 the music, and as she encountered Desmond's glance 
 once more she met a challenging invitation. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 '' We have ordered the ante-room to be cleared, Miss 
 Rosmead," whispered the Adjutant. ''The floor is 
 not at all bad. We wish to take advantage of what is 
 a most unexpected chance in this forsaken spot, and 
 dance." 
 
 "Oh, how lovely!" exclaimed Cicely, fixing him 
 with delighted eyes. 
 
 " I am glad you think so," he laughed. " May I 
 have the pleasure of the first one, please? " 
 
 "Yes, rather!" 
 
 "Come along, then. We'll lead the way," he 
 replied, pushing back his chair. 
 
 " Oh, I say, Miss Rosmead," cried Barry. " This 
 isn't fair. I can't miss the chance of a lifetime like 
 this. Don't go. In any case, please promise me some 
 too before the others come along." 
 
 "All right," replied Cicely, smiling over her 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Three, please," he whispered, following her. 
 
 "What cheek!" ejaculated her partner. "Don't 
 give the young thruster more than one at the most. 
 You'll be bored to death if you do." 
 
 Laughingly shaking her head at Barry, she was 
 immediately whirled into the waltz by her impatient 
 partner. A few moments later most of the others had 
 also joined in the dance. Some who failed to get ladies 
 danced with each other. A batch of ribald subalterns 
 played leap-frog on the verandah. 
 
 243 
 
244 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 Desmond and Mallory were both late in leaving the 
 table. The latter moodily retreated to the verandah. 
 Desmond unintentionally met Cicely as she emerged, 
 panting and delighted, from the dancing-room. 
 The light of merriment shone jubilantly from 
 her eyes, and her cheeks were flushed with 
 excitement. 
 
 ''Oh, there you are, Mr. Cleeve," she cried. *' Are 
 you going to ask me to dance to-night? " 
 
 " If it is only asking that is required, I will keep 
 on asking steadily," he cried. " But is there any use 
 in asking? " 
 
 " Plenty. I am not engaged for any yet." 
 
 "Well then, I'll ask for the lot, please," he 
 answered gaily. 
 
 " H'm! We'll say the third to begin with," she 
 laughed. " After that, we'll see; shall we? " 
 
 She didn't wait for a reply, but Desmond's glance as 
 he watched her lithe figure retreating into the night 
 was more than an answer. When, in due course, he 
 discovered her still seated in a secluded corner of the 
 verandah with her original partner, and claimed his 
 dance, she rose with a little cry of welcome. 
 
 "Enjoying yourself?" he inquired, with an 
 indulgent smile. 
 
 " Immensely. As Mr. Mallory would say, I think it 
 is all perfectly ripping. In fact" — she laughed mis- 
 chievous! v — " I think I have been starting my — er — 
 fling!" 
 
 "Oh. . . . And do you like it?" 
 
 " It is rather nice," she admitted. " Everybody is 
 so kind to me." 
 
 " Naturally." 
 
 " Even my chaperon Is smiling," she added. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 245 
 
 ''Humph!" 
 
 '* And I haven't yet forgotten the compliment I 
 received this afternoon. Wouldn't you like me to 
 teach you to flirt— really ? " 
 
 " Come and dance before I am tempted to teach 
 myself," cried Desmond. '' You are a wicked girl I " 
 
 '' Come along, then ! But I think it is good for a 
 girl to be wicked — a little wicked — sometimes, don't 
 you ? " she asked, laughing. 
 
 '' Perhaps," he admitted, as they joined the dancers. 
 " But it depends, I think, a good deal upon the man 
 concerned." 
 
 To Desmond the dance was ended only too soon. 
 Again he and Cicely found themselves on the veran- 
 dah. Presently Mallory emerged from the billiard- 
 room, caught sight of Cicely, and turned to retreat. 
 But Cicely joyously summoned him to her. 
 
 " It seems to me," she said, " that I am developing, 
 through force of circumstances, into a remarkably bold 
 young woman. I have to deliberately invite my 
 friends to dance with me, or else I am cold-shouldered. 
 Don't you intend to ask me to dance, Mr. Mallory? " 
 
 Mallory stood stiffly at his full height, and refused 
 to look down at the dainty figure who glanced up- 
 wards expectantly. 
 
 " I— er— thought you were too busy with other 
 people," he blurted out. 
 
 " I am busy— very busy," she retorted. '' But that 
 doesn't mean that I do not wish to dance with my 
 best friends.*^' 
 
 Mallory blushed visibly. He suddenly became 
 suffused with a sense of shame. Cicely seldom had 
 occasion to expend her sweetness for long upon desert 
 air. To remain in the sulks when she put forth her 
 
246 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 strength of allurement was a feat beyond the powers 
 of such a one as Mallory. He succumbed without a 
 struggle. 
 
 *' May I have a two-step then, please? " he asked, 
 humbly. 
 
 " You don't deserve one step," she replied. " But 
 none of us get what we deserve, so you may have it, 
 and a waltz as well. Now, don't go away and forget 
 them." 
 
 Mallory 's face brightened with eagerness. 
 
 " Forget? Not much," he cried. 
 
 " What a desperately long fling it will be between 
 this and twenty-five," said Cicely, irrelevantly, as she 
 watched Mallory depart again to the billiard-room. 
 
 '' I don't understand," said Desmond. 
 
 " Didn't you say that a girl shouldn't marry until 
 she was twenty-five? " she asked. " That means four 
 more years." She sighed audibly. " I don't think I 
 could last so long as that. Just think of flirting for 
 years and years — never being serious — listening always 
 to blatant compliments — occasionally, perhaps, having 
 to hurt somebody." 
 
 '' I can't imagine it." 
 
 ** But you advised It, surely? " 
 
 '* I advised you to enjoy yourself in your own way." 
 
 '' Quite so ! And said that girls should have a fling 
 — and not marry until they were twenty-five — and a lot 
 of other horrid things. I don't believe you understand 
 me one little bit." 
 
 " I am beginning to think that I don't," he mur- 
 mured. " Does any man ever understand a woman ? " 
 
 " I don't know. I can only answer for this woman. 
 Several men don't understand her," she sighed. 
 
 ** Oh ! I wonder if she understands herself ? " 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 247 
 
 " In certain things that matter she quite understands 
 herself," she replied, slowly. 
 
 '' H'm! I think that if you will but trust to your 
 own honest intuition at all times, and act accordingly, 
 you need no chaperon or advice either." 
 
 " I agree with you. I am doing it," she asserted. 
 
 Mallory's beaming countenance suddenly appeared 
 round a corner. 
 
 " My dance! " he cried. 
 
 Desmond rose, and, deliberately lighting a cigarette, 
 wandered into the compound. The night was very 
 still. Except for the officers' mess, all the camp was 
 asleep. The girl's words had filled him with a strange 
 wonder, a new born thrill, which, although, as he 
 argued, founded upon nothing, yet threatened to 
 engulf him in a wave of hope which he dare not foster. 
 For the hundredth time he dubbed himself a fool. 
 That he loved her with all his soul there could be no 
 question. To think for one instant, however, that her 
 frank camaraderie could mean love in return was mad- 
 ness. To persecute her w^ith protestations like Mallory 
 could not but spoil everything. 
 
 The end of the dance found him still alone with his 
 thoughts. The strains of the National Anthem drew 
 him again to the mess-room. He found Barry and 
 Mallory already engaged upon a supper of grilled 
 bones and Munich beer, in which Margaret and Cicely 
 were laughingly declining to share. 
 
 Gordon, preaching an early departure for the 
 morrow, gathered his flock together and hustled them 
 down the hill. That very evening must see them back 
 at the estate. To Badula was about twenty-five miles, 
 where they could lunch, and from fhere, through 
 Nuwera Eliya, to the estate was about another forty. 
 
248 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 It was late that morning when they eventually did 
 get under way. Nearly every officer in the little 
 garrison was at the Rest House to see them start. As 
 he listened to the cheery farewells and promised re- 
 unions, Mallory seemed to see his prospects of dances 
 with Cicely during the February week at Nuwera) 
 Eliya diminishing to vanishing point. 
 
 The run down the hill to Badula was soon accom- 
 plished, and tiffin hurried through. The road beyond 
 rose again some four thousand feet, so that their 
 further progress was slow. It was within half-an-hour 
 of dusk before the view of the Nuwera Eliya lake rose 
 up before them. They were again in the land of limit- 
 less tea. The great hill of Hakgala, closely resembling 
 in certain aspects its m6re celebrated prototype in 
 Edinburgh — Arthur's Seat — loomed up against the 
 skyline behind them. 
 
 Gordon steered the car along the road encircling the 
 lake, and, without entering the so-called town of 
 Nuwera Eliya, turned sharply to the left and descended 
 the same Nanuoya road that they had ascended on 
 starting forth upon their journey. 
 
 It was quite dark by the time they reached Gordon's 
 factory. The night was very cold, and myriads of 
 stars twinkled frostily in the heavens. Gordon pre- 
 dicted ice that night, and, as events proved, his 
 prophecy was correct. 
 
 A sense of home-coming permeated the atmosphere. 
 At the sound of the motor-syren, half-a-dozen coolies, 
 headed by the tea-maker, ran out to welcome their lord 
 and master. The lights of the bungalow, high up 
 above their heads amidst its setting of tea, threw out 
 a radiance of welcome which looked unusually inviting 
 and restful. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON ^49 
 
 Cicely descended from the car with the cheerfulness 
 of one who has at last come into her own. 
 
 *' Now, Uncle Gerald," she cried, " I intend at last 
 to seriously enter into my duties as your niece and 
 chatelaine. Until you can produce a wife to oust me, 
 I warn you that I propose to be a stern and thrifty 
 housekeeper, and show you how things must be done. 
 So I warn you all that those who love me had better 
 show it — that is, if they wish any special favours." 
 
 The coolies seized upon the boxes and started off 
 up the winding path. The house servants, salaaming 
 profoundly, were openly delighted at the return of their 
 master. A large log fire crackled merrily in the draw- 
 ing-room. England, which a few hours before had 
 been so many miles away, seemed here close at hand. 
 Cicely joyfully ran to the fire and warmed her hands. 
 Then, rushing to the piano, she broke into a wild 
 orgie of melodious chords. 
 
 The panther and bear skins had arrived before them. 
 Thev were at once dragged in for inspection. Cicely 
 viewed her panther with reminiscent thoughts of the 
 episode of the jungle which in her present surround- 
 ings seemed hardly credible. Gordon, in mock heroics, 
 laid his bear-skin at Margaret's feet, whilst Mallory, 
 without a word, deposited his before the fireplace in 
 the drawing-room. 
 
 The dinner that night was a cosy meal. Gordon, as 
 host, was at his best. Within Margaret's grey eves 
 rested an air of content which, had he not been so 
 occupied with his own affairs, would have been 
 observed by her brother with delight. Cicely, pos- 
 sessed by an air of charming hospitality towards her 
 uncle's guests, allowed nobody to be dull. It was a 
 pleasant world, with many nice people in it ! 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 For several days following upon their return to the 
 estate the time was passed practically in idleness. 
 Walks amongst the tea in the mornings, and a little 
 tennis in the afternoons filled the lazy hours. Gordon 
 was busily picking up arrears of work. A few neigfh- 
 bours turned up now and then for breakfast or tea. 
 Cicely engaged herself in studying the rearing of a 
 brood of young ducks and several fattening turkeys. 
 Mallory smoked innumerable cigarettes. Desmond 
 gave himself up to many pipes and the apparent study 
 of Ruskin's ''Seven Lamps of Architecture," which 
 he had found in Gordon's bedroom. Margaret spent 
 a couple of hours a day at the piano. 
 
 Despite the lack of serious occupation, everyone 
 seemed to have plenty to interest them in communion 
 with their own souls. The lack of combined move- 
 ments in this respect at that time was most marked. 
 After breakfast, each seeking his or her own favourite 
 environment, seemed to be quite content to dream away 
 the hours in solitude. 
 
 The atmosphere, nevertheless, was charged with 
 mental tension. Cicely appeared to be the only one 
 who gaily performed her self-constituted tasks with 
 mind well ordered and normal. No shadow of doubt 
 or trouble clouded her countenance. Occasionally she 
 would break into soft trills of song, and smile enig- 
 
 250 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 251 
 
 matically to herself. Whatever her ideas of her 
 surroundings might be, it was quite apparent that she 
 saw about her more of comedy than tragedy. To 
 Mallory she presented an aspect of charming friendli- 
 ness that even he found it impossible to misinterpret or 
 resist. Her m.orning's work finished, she would 
 occasionally seek out Desmond, tell him that he had 
 smoked enough, and lead him to talk of himself, of his 
 past, and his future. 
 
 In this fashion the days slipped on into weeks. 
 Christmas week came and went amidst a host of minor 
 local festivities. Dinners and tennis parties were ex- 
 changed with various neighbours within a radius of ten 
 miles or more. A day's shopping at Nuwera Eliya 
 afforded an excuse for a gay luncheon party at the hotel 
 there, but the weather was too wet to make the golf 
 links attractive, and so they decided to return to the 
 estate and save their golf until February. 
 
 Shortly after the beginning of the New Year, the 
 local event of the year — the sports — was due to take 
 place at Radella, which place was Gordon's nearest 
 social centre. The little club-house, situated in a 
 beautiful level clearing of grass land surrounded by 
 precipitous hills of tea and timber, was on that festive 
 occasion to be the rendezvous of all the planting world 
 for miles around. 
 
 A small race track surrounded the club ground, and 
 withiii that enclosure usually took place the local foot- 
 ball, cricket, and hockey matches of the year. A small 
 golf course w^as also provided with a home within this 
 enclosed area. The club-house itself, a wooden 
 structure containing a billiard table, a common room 
 where dancing, or luncheon, or any other functions 
 could be held, also a bar, looked down upon 
 
252 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 the grounds from such a commanding position 
 that a grand stand for races or sports was 
 unnecessary. 
 
 The great day arrived at last, and with it glorious 
 sunshine. Gordon's party found themselves upon the 
 course bright and early. 
 
 It was to be an all-day affair. From far and near, 
 upon ponies, in motors, on bicycles, and in traps came 
 planters, their wives, their sons and daughters, and 
 their numerous guests. When all w^as said and done, 
 however, the whole vast assembly numbered less than 
 a hundred people. But scarcity of numbers failed 
 signally to affect the gaiety of those who came. Scat- 
 tered inhabitants, who see each other but seldom, and 
 who have to travel many miles even for short visits, 
 have no time for anything but cheery greetings when 
 they do arrive. 
 
 Gordon was surprised at the large size of the 
 **meet," as, in Ceylon parlance, he called it. His 
 guests had expected six times as many people, but 
 when he had explained that there were only about six 
 thousand Europeans in the island altogether, and that 
 those were not all planters, they began to view things 
 with a sense of proportion which had escaped them 
 before. 
 
 Gordon's estate was comparatively close, so that he 
 and his guests were amongst the first to arrive. Several 
 long tables in the main room of the club-house were 
 already being laid with breakfast by the various neigh- 
 bouring bungalow servants , and every moment 
 brought upon the scene a couple of fresh servant 
 arrivals, who, with boxes of food balanced upon 
 their heads, emerged from tea paths in every 
 direction. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 253 
 
 Hams and turkeys, great haunches of mutton and 
 rounds of beef, meat pies and game pies, savouries and 
 salads, and cakes, and, in fact, everything that the 
 ingenuity of the cooks could originate, flooded the 
 tables. No trouble appeared to be too great for the 
 Tamil and Cingalese ''boys," who flitted hither and 
 thither in a competition to show up their respective 
 bungalows in a good light. No effort of the hosts to 
 entertain their guests seemed to have been forgotten or 
 neglected. 
 
 Bachelor planters, mostly in blazers and ties of well- 
 known English public schools or colleges, thronged 
 the little bar premises. A few introductions from 
 Gordon, and Desmond and Mallory were resisting with 
 difficulty the hospitable attentions of their hosts, whose 
 demands comprised a consumption of alcohol before 
 breakfast which would have had disastrous effects, if 
 yielded to. 
 
 The good-fellowship, the open-handed hospitality, 
 and the spontaneous geniality of everybody there was 
 very contagious. Everybody knew everybody else, 
 and apparently liked them. At all events, if they 
 didn't, they forbore to show it. The natural beauty 
 of the situation of the ground, the novelty of the 
 surroundings, and, in fact, the whole environment 
 of scene and society afforded a fascination which 
 to the uninitiated proved far greater than they had 
 expected. 
 
 The long jump, kicking the football, and a hurdle 
 race occurring in rapid succession, were quite sufficient 
 to throw Mallory into a perfect fever of sporting 
 reminiscences with a bevy of new acquaintances. 
 Desmond soon found himself immersed in a game of 
 pool which lasted until breakfast time. The girls were 
 
254 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 surrounded by a host of young gallants competing for 
 a share of their society. 
 
 Everybody was ready for breakfast by noon. 
 Ceremony was cast to the winds. When all was 
 declared to be ready, the various groups of friends sat 
 down where they could find places. Presently corks 
 began to fly, and any hidden gloom of life that there 
 may have been precipitantly disappeared into oblivion. 
 
 The Police band from Colombo, which had been 
 brought up by train for this one day only, now 
 appeared upon the scene, and got to work at once.^ 
 Mallory had long before this decided within his heart 
 that a planters' "meet" was not to be despised. 
 Cicely's eyes were beaming with joyous acceptance of 
 all the good things of life that momentarily presented 
 themselves. Margaret, in her own quiet way, was 
 enjoying every minute of an experience that was as 
 novel as it was entertaining. 
 
 After breakfast the sports were continued. Every 
 conceivable variety of event seemed to be on the pro- 
 gramme, and there were candidates for each. It was 
 quite dark by the time the last race (for those who had 
 failed to win a prize) was run. The band had played 
 steadily since noon, but, nothing daunted, now 
 expressed themselves ready to continue until further 
 notice. 
 
 Afternoon tea had followed the breakfast, and the 
 remains of this being now cleared away, and the room 
 laid bare, a goodly proportion of the gathering was 
 clamouring for dancing. In the little billiard room 
 arose a babel of voices from a ribald crowd of pool 
 players ; a couple of keen rubbers of bridge engrossed 
 the attentions of another room ; the bar hummed with 
 hilarious anecdote. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 255 
 
 Marsfaret and Cicely were engaged for dancing, 
 three deep, in almost as many minutes. Mallory 
 started off with Cicely, and Gordon stated that, as a 
 host, it was his duty to dance the first dance 
 with Margaret. Desmond, capturing Cicely for the 
 second dance, continued, unheeding of time, 
 well on into the fourth before she was taken 
 from him. 
 
 It was nine o'clock before the exhausted band were 
 allowed to desist, and the ladies could be induced to 
 depart. As one of the nearest neighbours, Gordon 
 had invited a large party to dinner. 
 
 The night was very dark. Coolies, with lanterns, 
 awaited to escort their masters by the winding foot- 
 paths, leading hillwards, into the denser shadows; 
 the boxes of the guests, with their changes of clothes, 
 upon coolies' heads, had already preceded their 
 owners. 
 
 Half a dozen men and a couple of ladies comprised 
 the extra guests. It was late before they were ready to 
 assemble in the drawing-room, but their appetites were 
 all the better for the delay. 
 
 The meal proved to be a merry continuation of the 
 flirtations and laughter of the earlier part of the day. 
 After dinner, their thirst for excitement was not yet 
 assuaged. Despite all protests from several of the 
 more lazy ones, the drawing-room was cleared of most 
 of its furniture, and a boisterous game of blind-man's- 
 buff ensued. 
 
 More drinks and sandwiches in the early hours of 
 the morning ended the day. The guests, disposed in 
 various odds and ends of rooms and beds as could be 
 best arranged, were at length induced to retire to rest. 
 It had been a joyous occasion, and Gordon's party 
 
256 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 admitted next day that they wouldn't have missed it 
 for much. 
 
 With many promises to meet shortly at Nuwera 
 Eliya during the race week, the guests departed next 
 morning after breakfast, and again the peaceful life 
 of the estate resumed its sway. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 " I'm going fishing," announced Cicely at tea-time. 
 " Where's Vour rod, Uncle Gerald? " 
 
 " It is all ready in the gun room. If you go to the 
 lower stream half a mile below the factory, I expect 
 you'll get a trout or two," replied Gordon. " Some! 
 of us will go and fetch you before dark, and help 
 carry home the spoil." 
 
 ''I'll go with you now," stated Mallory. 
 
 ''No, thank you," answered Cicely, quietly. "I 
 think I would rather be alone for awhile. You are 
 sure to talk, and you'll frighten the fish. Besides, 
 you'll distract my attention, and I shall need it all for 
 the fish." 
 
 " I'll promise not to speak one word," pleaded 
 Mai lory. 
 
 Cicely laughed indifferently. 
 
 ** Oh, well, if 3^ou can find amusement by sitting 
 on the bank and not speaking one single word, you 
 are quite welcome to come," she replied. 
 
 " I'll get the rod and net," he cried, jumping up 
 with alacrity. 
 
 The next minute found Cicely leading the way down 
 the footpath. A few down-like clouds drifted lazily 
 across the sky. There was a melodious chirruping 
 of birds amidst the branches of the gum trees. Green 
 lizards shot across the path in the sunlight. Cicely 
 R 257 
 
258 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 halted suddenly as she met a couple of shiny black 
 millipedes slowly working their way over the clay. A 
 line of female pluckers, returning from one of the fields 
 above the bungalow with full baskets upon their 
 backs passed, chattering, through the tea. The 
 screech of the wire shoot as a sack of leaf shot down- 
 wards to the factory echoed through the valley. 
 
 " Well," inquired Cicely, presently, " did you find 
 her yesterday by any chance ? '* 
 
 "Find who?" asked Mallory, in surprise. 
 '* That nice girl that you are to confide in me 
 about," she replied, glancing back over her shoulder, 
 *' I saw several quite pretty girls that you were danc- 
 ing with. What about Miss Romilly? " 
 
 "Pouf!" he exclaimed, disdainfully *' She seems 
 a decent sort of girl, but you surely don't imagine you 
 are going to palm me off on her, do you ? " 
 
 "You needn't be so supercilious," cried Cicely. 
 "In any case, there were other ones. Now, I thought 
 the girl with the nice blue eyes and the fair hair a 
 charming-looking girl. You seemed to like her, 
 too." 
 
 " Don't like fair hair," he grumbled, " black is my 
 favourite colour." 
 
 *' Oh, well, let me see. There was that girl who 
 was sitting beside you at tea. She looked awfully 
 sweet." 
 "Humph!" 
 
 Cicely's eyes danced with amusement, but her back 
 was towards Mallory, and with bent head she picked 
 her footsteps down the path. 
 
 " I think," she continued, unheedingly, " that you 
 are frightfully difficult to please. But perhaps, after 
 all, it is better to be like that. It is safer. I wish I 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 259 
 
 were a young man, about twenty-five, travelling round 
 the world. I would pick up all sorts of nice girl 
 friends wherever I went. Nobody would expect me 
 to be serious in my attentions, and so I would flirt 
 with heaps and heaps of pretty girls." She sighed 
 profoundly. " But then, unfortunately, I am not a 
 man." 
 
 Afallory grunted, but said nothing. 
 
 '* I know so much about girls, though, that I can 
 give you lots of tips for your guidance if you would 
 like to learn, Mr. Mallory," she continued. *' All my 
 knowledge is wasted upon myself. Besides, a girl 
 mustn't flirt. It is different with a man ; isn't it? " 
 
 Again Mallory grunted. 
 
 '' Isn't it? " insisted Cicely. 
 
 '' No ! " he ejaculated, briskly. 
 
 '• Oh, dear," she sighed, ** I thought I was being 
 nice to you, and you do nothing but grunt. Is it 
 because I told you you were not to talk that you are 
 so silent, or has the devil really turned a monk?" 
 She laughed merrily. *' You certainly used to flirt- 
 quite recently, too." 
 
 '* I didn't flirt with you. I told you that before, 
 and you know it is true," he cried, hotly. 
 
 "Yes, of course," she replied. '* Friends don't 
 flirt. They know each other too well. I am referring 
 to all the others before me. I think you were quite 
 right, you see. In fact, I am advising a further course 
 of it, and, as I told you before, I am longing for 
 confidences. I wish it was right for girls to flirt in 
 the same way as men may. It must be a most divert- 
 ing pastime. Haven't you found it so? " 
 
 " Oh," groaned Alallory, " I don't know. I am not 
 interested in flirting one little bit." He laughed 
 
26o CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 mirthlessly. '' And in any case, I don't think that 
 you need any information on the subject." 
 
 "Oh! Now I wonder what you mean by that?" 
 she inquired. "You don't surely mean to 
 insinuate — " 
 
 They had reached the bank of the little torrent which, 
 tumbling tortuously around a spur of the hillside, ran 
 here into several placid pools and reaches. Mallory 
 began to piece together the light rod. A shady tree 
 hung over the brook, its great roots forming seats, 
 upon one of which Cicely deposited herself until the 
 cast should be adjusted to the line. Mallory's glance 
 was intent upon his work. Cicely's blue eyes, 
 demurely cast upwards, watched him for a moment in 
 silence. Then she began to idly draw a pattern in 
 the sand with a twig. Still he didn't speak. 
 
 " Well ? " she demanded at last. 
 
 Mallory's lips moved as if to speak, but no words 
 came. Then his eyes lifted and enveloped her stooping 
 figure in a swift glance, w^hich, had she seen it, would 
 have w^arned her of possible trouble. 
 
 " I mean to insinuate," he said, quietly, " nothing 
 more than that you may flirt, or do anything else you 
 please, without altering my opinion of you. Through 
 it all 3^ou are the sweetest girl I have ever met, and 
 as long as you are near me I haven't got the heart to 
 flirt with the prettiest other girl on earth." 
 
 ** phi " cried Cicely, springing hastily to her feet. 
 " I must claim your promise not to talk. You had 
 better smoke. Give me the rod, please." 
 
 Without protest, Mallory did as he was told. 
 Depositing himself between the two giant tree-roots, 
 he meditatively filled his pipe. 
 
 Cicely, with a heightened colour, took up an 
 
CICELY IN CEYLDN 261 
 
 advantageous stand and cast adroitly across the deep 
 brown pool. Keeping her back religiously towards 
 Mallory, she whipped the pool in silence. For all she 
 showed of a knowledge of his presence, he might as 
 well have been a thousand miles away. 
 
 For half-an-hour, or more, not a sign of a rise of a 
 fish rewarded her patient manipulations. Then, 
 suddenly, there was a rush through the dark water and 
 her line spun out at lightning speed. 
 
 Mallory was alive in a second. With landing-net 
 in hand, he sprang from rock to rock, down-stream, 
 shouting advice. The mental tension of a moment! 
 before had snapped in an instant. Mallory's sporting 
 instincts rose triumphantly over every other considera- 
 tion. 
 
 It proved to be an exciting contest. The trout was 
 full of game, and Cicely refused all help. Eventu- 
 ally, however, after Mallory had slipped several times 
 into the water off his various rocky perches, the fish 
 fell into the landing-net. 
 
 Cicely breathed a deep sigh of contented relief, and 
 threw herself down upon the bank to rest. 
 
 The next moment the sound of Margaret's voice 
 from the path high up above their heads reached them, 
 and she and Gordon appeared upon the bank of the 
 stream. The sun had disappeared well below the 
 tree-tops. The air was momentarily growing cooler. 
 From the bungalow chimneys arose the smoke of 
 newly-lit evening fires. The hour of ante-prandial 
 gin and bitters, as Mallory mentioned, had arrived. 
 Also, as Gordon reminded them, if they returned at 
 once, there was still time to have Cicely's capture 
 cooked for dinner. 
 
 " Where's Mr. Cleeve? " asked Cicely. 
 
262 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 " Smoking in the garden, the lazy fellow! " replied 
 Margaret. 
 
 *' I don't think he deserves any of my fish for his 
 dinner," cried Cicely. *' I'll go and tell him so. Will 
 you bring the rod and things, please, Mr. iMallory ? " 
 
 As she spoke, she ran lightly up the hill, with 
 Mallory in full pursuit. Margaret and Gordon 
 followed more leisurely. Margaret watched the girl's 
 retreating figure, smiling. 
 
 " Your niece, I think, is one of the most charming 
 girls I have ever knowm," she remarked to Gordon. 
 " And there is no doubt that Mr. Mallory thinks quite 
 as much of her as I do." 
 
 *' Ah ! Do you think she also likes him — more than 
 is good for her? " asked Gordon, anxiously. " He is 
 a good lad, but — " 
 
 Margaret paused before she answered. Her eyes 
 grew introspective. Again she glanced upwards at 
 Cicely's graceful figure silhouetted against the crimson 
 sky. 
 
 " Of course, I cannot say for certain," she replied, 
 slowly. " Cicely has not confided in me. But I 
 should imagine that she can quite w^ell take care of 
 herself as regards Mr. Mallory, and that she has no 
 intention of falling in love with him." 
 
 "You think then that I ought not to interfere?" 
 he asked. 
 
 " No, I see no necessity for 3'our avuncular inter- 
 vention at present," replied Margaret, smiling. 
 "That is— certainly as regards Mr. IMallory." 
 
 "Good! I am rather relieved. Women know so 
 much more of these sort of things than men, that I 
 am very glad to hear you say that. I am still rather 
 troubled, though. I gave Mr. Mallory an open 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 263 
 
 invitation to stay on here as long as he cared to, 
 purely because he seemed so keen about it — and, 
 besides, I like him. I do not want him, however, to 
 possibly imagine that I wish to bring him and Cicely 
 together. There is nothing further from my 
 thoughts." 
 
 " I quite understand," replied Margaret, glancing 
 up at his honest sunburnt face. " I'll help you if 
 I see any necessity, if you like." 
 
 ''Thank you, I would like it immensely. There 
 is nobody whose judgment and help I value so much," 
 he replied. 
 
 In silence they ascended the last few yards of the 
 path and entered the bungalow. Whatever ideas of 
 a misanthropic life in solitude Desmond may have 
 had, there was no doubt regarding their present 
 annihilation. The soft notes of a serenade arose 
 from the piano. Cicely w^as playing, and at her side 
 sat Desmond watching her. Now and again she 
 caught his glance and dropped a word or two. INIar- 
 garet looked in at the door for a second, and then, 
 turning aside, invited Gordon to accompany her to 
 see the poppies in the garden closing their lids for the 
 night. 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 To those whose greatest excitement for many months 
 has been no more than a small district tennis 
 " Meet," or a dance that a dozen people can provide, 
 a comparatively large gathering such as the Niiwera 
 Eliya week produces is an event of epoch-making 
 importance. From almost every planting district in 
 the little island, and also from the government and 
 commercial circles of Colombo appear competitors 
 for the tennis tournament, and owners of race-horses 
 for the three days' race nieeting. 
 
 The little settlement, with its few hotels and 
 scattered bungalows, which is during the preceding 
 few months almost deserted, wakes up about the 
 beginning of February into a state of activity pre- 
 viously unbelievable. The season begins on that 
 date, and heated Colombo disgorges its pale and 
 pasty-complexioned ladies and children " up the 
 hill," where, until the torrential rains break in June, 
 they remain. Every bungalow is filled to overflow- 
 ing. The hotels also, apart from local residents, are 
 replete with European and American tourists en route 
 to and from the Far East. Burma, Singapore, and 
 India add their quota of jaded refugees from the heat 
 of the torrid plains. The sun shines continuously. 
 Fires within and frost without enliven the nights. 
 The Hill Club, filled with its holiday crowd of 
 
 264 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 265 
 
 bachelors and grass widowers, resounds to the 
 "scream of joy" that permeates the atmosphere to 
 the exclusion of all things serious. The United 
 Club, usually the place of gloom, par excellence^ for 
 half the year, awakes from slumber. The little race- 
 stand receives a new coat of paint. The Turf Club, 
 the United Club, the Bachelors, and the hotels com- 
 pete for first place in retaining the services of the 
 Regimental and Police bands for their respective 
 balls. In fact, Colombo, with its accustomed energy 
 in search of pleasure, has brought its talents with it. 
 
 Gordon had reserved rooms at one of the largest 
 hotels a couple of months before Christmas. 
 Amongst other attractions for that particular year the 
 bachelors had advertised that their ball was to be a 
 ^ancy-dress one. Margaret and Cicely, ever since 
 they had been warned of this coming event, had been 
 busily engaged in secret arrangements. As the car 
 couldn't hold half the luggage they deemed it neces- 
 sary to take with them, the usual coolies, to whom a 
 dozen miles' run with boxes upon their heads was an 
 every-day event, were despatched ahead with it. 
 
 The opening chorus of the week took the shape of 
 tennis. The earth courts at the Hill Club were as 
 level as weeks of coolie labour could make them. 
 From eight o'clock in the morning until dark the 
 events followed each other in unremitting succession. 
 The great day, when the finals of the Ceylon tennis 
 championships were to be played, would not be until 
 the end of the week, but those of lesser light than the 
 champions had all their little coteries of followers 
 who were interested in their efforts. 
 
 Near by, the Club Chalet, a small building set 
 apart for luncheons and the use of ladies, was from 
 
266 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 an early hour alive with the spirit of conviviality.- 
 There were plenty of onlookers at the games, and no 
 lack of enthusiastic applause and comment. Even 
 gangs of estate coolies would sometimes obtain leave 
 to walk twenty miles to see their master play. 
 
 Not a cloud obscured the wooded heights of Pedro, 
 rising two thousand feet above the valley. The club 
 gardens, a gorgeous mass of variegated blooms, were 
 at their best. Roses and violets, geraniums and 
 cosmos, and everywhere clumps of arum lilies 
 filled the air with intoxicating perfume. A wonderful 
 bottle-brush tree, its dark red brush-like blossoms 
 waving gently in the light breeze, occupied the centre 
 of the garden landscape. A hundred feet below, the 
 narrow stream wound tortuously through the green 
 valley where lay the golf links. Great clumps of 
 gorse, a perfect mass of yellow blossoms, dotted the 
 course. In the near distance, a couple of red-roofed 
 bungalows relieved any suspicion of monotony in the 
 landscape. Behind, rising almost perpendicularly 
 heavenwards, were the densely-wooded hills of un- 
 cleared jungle. A quarter of a mile to the left stood 
 the white stone house of the General Officer Com- 
 manding Ceylon, with the Union Jack fluttering 
 before it. 
 
 Mallory had been tempted to enter for the open 
 singles, but, after his experience of earth-courts at 
 Jaffna, his ambitions had, on mature consideration, 
 died a natural death. He had plenty to do, however, 
 amongst his planter acquaintances in the club. Barry 
 and several other officers had arrived from Diyatalawa 
 Camp, and not a few genial planters claimed 
 acquaintanceship. 
 
 Cicely and Margaret were quite content to sit and 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 267 
 
 watch the ever-varying other onlookers, who came 
 and went all day. 
 
 After tiffin, to which Gordon had taken them in the 
 Chalet, they almost ran into the arms of Martin, who, 
 with beaming face, said that he had been hunting 
 for them everywhere. The ball of the next night was, 
 he said, to be the special feature of the week, and he 
 excitedly began to make plans of amusement with 
 Cicely. The latter 's promise to dance with him had 
 not been forgotten, and he claimed a supper dance as 
 well; but this she declined to promise. He was 
 cheerier, if possible, than ever, and evidently intended 
 to have the time of his life. 
 
 When the evening shadows fell, and the wonderful 
 crimsons and violets above Pedro had faded into 
 purple, Martin insisted upon leading the whole party 
 to the United Club. 
 
 The latter 's promise that the building would be full 
 was no exaggeration. On the right of the entrance 
 a babel of voices arose from an over-filled bridge- 
 room, where mixed couples were keenly competing. 
 There was a sort of drawing-room, where, around 
 little tables, sat groups of ladies and their men friends 
 discussing the events of the day, with the assistance 
 of variously-coloured short drinks. Beyond this 
 room lay a broad verandah, equally patronised by 
 those whose appetites for conversation or flirting 
 would not be assuaged until the dinner-hour arrived. 
 
 From a room upstairs there suddenly arose the 
 sound of a piano. 
 
 " Hullo," cried Martin, " they're dancing now. 
 Do come, Miss Rosmead." 
 
 *'Me, too?" begged jMallory. 
 
 "Dh, you can dance at any time," intervened 
 
268 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 Gordon, linking his arm in that of Mallory. " Come 
 and drink in the bar. I'll introduce you to a new 
 concoction, yclept * milk punch.' A few glasses will 
 make your hair curl." 
 
 Mallory reluctantly consenting, Cicely and Martin 
 joined about twenty couples who were already in the 
 middle of a waltz. At one end of the room was a 
 stage for theatricals. The floor was good, and every- 
 body seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the chance of 
 a dance, which, as a rule, came their way only too 
 seldom. 
 
 ^largaret and Desmond stood in the doorway 
 watching the scene wltTi interest. The former rather 
 preferred not to dance before dinner, but Martin's 
 importunities prevailed. When Mallory and Gordon 
 returned, Desmond had taken Martin's place with 
 Cicely, and although Mallory tried to secure a dance, 
 these two followed on with the next waltz 
 unheedingly. 
 
 It was quite late when they reached the hotel, the 
 entrance-hall of which was crowded with a gay throng 
 of people already dressed for dinner. Half-an-hour 
 later Cicely, wearing the pretty green satin frock in 
 which she had appeared at the Galle Face dance at 
 Colombo, hurried downstairs. Gordon had invited 
 Martin and Barry to join their party. 
 
 The dining-room was crowded. An atmosphere of 
 exhilaration, in anticipation of coming, joys, per- 
 vaded the conversation. Cicely, with flushed cheeks 
 and dancing eyes, was in the highest spirits. IMartin 
 shot furtive glances of admiration across the table; 
 Mallory was openly complimentary. 
 
 Gordon and Margaret, in amused understanding of 
 Cicely and her admirers, at that moment were quietly 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 269 
 
 content with life as they found it. Desmond, also, 
 who seemed wonderfully free from care, was in his 
 cheeriest mood. 
 
 There was no function on the cards for that even- 
 ing, so they took the opportunity of getting to bed 
 early. 
 
 The next morning, before the sun had been up 
 half-an-hour, Cicely, with Gordon and Desmond, was 
 on the race-course. It was the hour for the morning 
 exercise of the horses. Gordon knew several owners 
 intimately, and, as this was the first day of the races, 
 was interested to see for himself how his friends' 
 animals shaped. 
 
 There were several other ladies present, and the 
 usual handful of owners and trainers. Cicely was 
 intensely fond of horses, and was delighted at the 
 chance of seeing them exercise. The air vvas very 
 cold, and the riders' fingers were blue as they sprang 
 from the saddle and repaired to the weighing-in room, 
 where coffee and rolls were ready for those who cared 
 to have them. 
 
 A sight of the beautiful yellow gorse, wet with 
 hoar frost, the sleek, highly-trained animals galloping 
 through the exhilarating atmosphere, and the general 
 bien etre of a perfect morning, were well worth the 
 extra effort of early rising. 
 
 Margaret warned Cicely that she had a long day 
 before her, and preacTied caution as regarded her 
 strength, but the latter only laughed derision, and 
 promised to give Mallory a beating at golf aftei^ 
 breakfast. They ended, however, in a compromise, 
 whereby Martin and Cicely played Mallory and 
 Margaret. 
 
 The links were in perfect condition. Martin played 
 
270 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 a better game than Mallory, and Cicely, animated by 
 the spirit of competition, played a long ^vay above her 
 form. At the twelfth hole Margaret declared their 
 side beaten, and insisted upon joining Gordon and 
 Desmond at lunch at the Chalet. 
 
 That afternoon, the first day of the races, was a 
 distinct success. With the knowledge gained from 
 their early morning visit to the course, and the 
 acceptance of "a few judicious tips from Gordon's 
 friends, Mallory and Martin won quite a modest com- 
 petence from the totaU:~alor. A couple of professional 
 bookmakers were in the enclosure, but these, com- 
 pared with their brethren in England, gave such poor 
 odds that the betting machines were much more 
 profitable. 
 
 Cicely, escorted by a bevy of squires, headed by 
 Martin and Barry, wandered about amongst the well- 
 dressed throng of people, delighted with everything. 
 It was a glorious day of sunshine ; everybody was so 
 nice to her; and it was all so novel. 
 
 More than one pair of eyes glanced again and again 
 at the girl, whose youthful grace of figure, dainty 
 English colouring, and winning manner, were so 
 delightfully refreshing to see. She was dressed 
 entirely in grey — a frock of soft crepe de chine, with 
 shoes and stockings to match, and beneath the broad 
 brim of a grey hat her deep blue eyes looked forth upon 
 a world all couleur de rose. 
 
 A planters' entertainment club, called the **Hom 
 Club," was, at tea-time, *' At Home " in a tent beside 
 the stand. Desmond, who had left Cicely to her own 
 devices most of the day, emerged from the paddock 
 after the fourth race and invited her to have tea with 
 him. Margaret and Gordon were already within the 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 271 
 
 tent, beckoning to the others. IMallory grumbled 
 openly at losing Cicely, but the girl laughed lightly, 
 and accepted Desmond's invitation. 
 
 ** What are you going to wear at the ball to- 
 night? " asked Desmond. 
 
 "I don't think I shall tell you," she answered. 
 *' I think I would rather leave you in the dark until 
 you can tell me if you like it. I think it very pretty. 
 Margaret made it for me." 
 
 ** I can promise you I shall like it," he rejoined. 
 *' I think I would like you in anything." 
 
 " Oh ! That sounds like a flirty remark," she said 
 naively. "Is it? " 
 
 " No, not flirty, as you call it — true.^^ 
 Cicely suddenly met his eyes, and a suspicion of a 
 blush mounted to her cheeks. 
 
 "Thank you," she said, demurely. 
 "I wonder," murmured Desmond, diffidently, "if 
 you could be induced to let me take you in to supper 
 to-night? There will be many competitors." 
 " Don't you intend to dance? " she asked. 
 "Yes." 
 
 The girl t03^ed with her bread and butter, helped 
 herself absent-mindedly to a piece of cake, and then 
 broke into a little laugh. 
 
 " Shall we say supper and three waltzes then ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " Do you mean it? Do you really mean that you 
 can spare me so much? " 
 
 " Only on condition, of course, that you really want 
 them. Are you sure you do? " 
 
 Desmond carefully selected a cigarette. His face 
 expressed decided incredulity. There seemed no 
 ^reat cause for wonder, and yet to himself he would 
 
272 CICELY IN CEYLON "* 
 
 not admit that Cicely could possibly wish what she 
 offered him. 
 
 *' Well ? " she queried. '' Truly the way of a man 
 with a maid is, as King Solomon asserted, one of the 
 chief wonders of the world." 
 
 Desmond's thoughts recalled the same remark as 
 made on board the " Soudan," and smiled. 
 
 *' If you mean that the proverbial stupidity of my 
 sex concerning the affairs of maids is at present par- 
 ticularly applicable to me, I fear I have no defence," 
 he said. " I wish to dance with you, to sit out with 
 you, to have^supper w^ith you, for as long as ever you 
 can bear with me — that you know without the telling 
 — but I must not monopolise you to the exclusion of — 
 well, those, whose society " 
 
 He broke off weakly and lit his cigarette. 
 
 *' Yes? Whose society—? Go on ! " she urged. 
 
 " Well— whose society you like. There are so 
 many men here to-day." 
 
 Cicely searched his face in genuine wonder. 
 
 '' Do you really mean that? " she asked. 
 
 They had both been so absorbed in their own affairs 
 that they had completely forgotten their surround- 
 ings. A race had been run since they had entered the 
 tent, and now the place again became crowded with 
 people scurrying in for tea. A stentorian voice at 
 their elbow awoke them to the present. Cicely looked 
 up suddenly, and there stood Mr. Barry. 
 
 " Oh, here you are — at last! " cried the latter. " I 
 have been hunting for you everywhere. Miss 
 Rosmead. It wasn't fair to run away and hide like 
 this. Everybody is already booking dances for to- 
 night. I hope you have kept some for me. We are 
 having a perfectly glorious time, aren't we? " Twist- 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 273 
 
 ing an infinitesimal moustache with satisfaction, he 
 sat himself upon a chair and beamed at Cicely 
 expectantly. '* There really isn't any place like 
 Ceylon, Miss Rosmead, is there? I am having the 
 time of my life. Do you know that when I first 
 danced with you, I had to admit thai, at last, I had 
 met someone who could dance better than myself.' 
 How many may I have ? ' ' 
 
 Desmond's clean-shaven lips twitched with amuse- 
 ment. He was by no means devoid of humour, and 
 this gushing exuberance of spirits and complacency 
 was most diverting. He smiled across at Cicely, and, 
 slowly rising to his feet, turned towards the door. 
 
 *' Must we go, Mr. Cleeve? " she asked, calling to 
 him. '' I'm coming. Thank you, Mr. Barry. 
 Shall we say the third extra? I think I can spare 
 that." 
 
 "Oh, but I say. Miss Rosmead! Only one, anid 
 that an extra! You really can't mean it." 
 
 '' Au revoir, then," cried Cicely, hurrying across 
 the tent and unheeding his protests. '' We'll meet 
 this evening." Joining Desmond, who was leaning 
 against a tent post, she glanced over her shoulder, 
 adding, "But, by the way, how shall I know you? 
 What is your costume to be, ]\Ir. Barry? " 
 
 "Romeo," he whispered. "I got the kit from 
 England." 
 
 "Oh, how delightfully appropriate!" she called. 
 " You will look perfectly splendid, I am sure. Bye, 
 bye." 
 
CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 The United Club had been decorated and garnished 
 out of all recognition. The bachelors, resetted and 
 smiling, flitted hither and thither, upstairs and down- 
 stairs, welcoming thei)r guests and arranging final 
 details. By nine o'clock the place was crowded with 
 a seething, merry mass of wondrously-costumed men 
 and women of every age in history and romance.; 
 The big room upstairs had been reserved for the danc- 
 ing, and in the sitting-room was arranged the supper. 
 The back verandah, fitted up into secluded cornersi 
 and kala jugas, was looking, beneath the silvery light 
 of a full moon, a most tempting location for those 
 seeking ideality between dances. 
 
 When Gordon's motor pulled up at the enfrance, 
 the stairway and passages were already crowded with 
 early arrivals. Gordon, consigning the girls to the 
 ladies' dressing-room, was at once seized upon by one 
 of the hosts, who was doling out programmes. Judg- 
 ing by the flow of witticisms and apt remarks which 
 flowed volubly from this latter gentleman's lips, he 
 was a well-known character. He was dressed in a 
 green coat and trousers covered with various designs 
 of billiard and pool balls. A cascade of coloured 
 balls, emanating from an imitation pool bottle, 
 covered his back ; a green lamp-shade formed his hat ; 
 net pockets hung from his shoulders and hips; a 
 scoring board crossed his chest; cues in cloth formed 
 side stripes to his trousers. 
 
 274 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 275 
 
 " Hullo, Joe," cried Martin, '' that's a saucy kit! " 
 
 " Rather chic, I call It," cried the former. '' What 
 do you call yourself? You look a most unmitigated 
 ruffian." 
 
 With bronzed face surmounted by an enormous 
 turban, and wearing a little embroidered jacket and 
 loose white baggy Indian trousers, Martin certainly 
 deserved the criticism. 
 
 "I'm a Palhan,'' he replied. "Have you seen 
 Gerald Gordon anywhere? " 
 
 " Yes, there he is, over there. He and his two 
 English pals are dressed alike — pierrots." 
 
 "Good evening, Mr. Martin," said somebody, 
 behind him. " If you hadn't given me a hint before- 
 hand I certainly shouldn't have known you. You 
 look splendidly fierce." 
 
 " Hullo, Miss Cleeve," he cried, turning round. 
 " Is that really you? What a very beautiful dress! 
 A watteau shepherdess, isn't it? How different you 
 look with powdered hair. It is — er — stunning." 
 
 Slowly the long queue of dancers was climbing the 
 broad stairway. Margaret and Martin were pushed 
 along with the others. The band had already begun 
 to play the waltz of "A Thousand Kisses." 
 
 "By Jove! There's that ripping waltz again! I 
 haven't heard it since Colombo. Have you seen Miss 
 Rosmead, anybody?" cried an unmistakable voice 
 at the bottom of the stairway. 
 
 "Hullo, Barry," replied Gordon. "You do look 
 a corker! Do look at his legs, everybody! Tights, 
 by Jove! And look at his pretty doublet and the 
 jaunty cap upon his auburn curls!" 
 
 "Who the deuce are you, anyway?" grunted 
 Mallory. 
 
276 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 " I'm Romeo, of course," bellowed Barry. '' It is 
 a jolly good kit. You fellows are all jealous. 
 Where's Juliet? I mean Miss Rosmead?" 
 
 Mallory's eyes flashed ominously. 
 
 '' I think you had better run outside and cool your 
 head, my boy," he said, fiercely. 
 
 At that moment Barry's gaze suddenly rested upon 
 the figure of a pretty girl dressed in what was 
 obviously meant to be a personification of the Nuwera 
 Eliya golf links. A semi-circular, green, sort of 
 tiara, from which little sprigs of gorse protruded, sur- 
 mounted her abundant brown hair. A border of 
 minute cloth golf clubs encircled a green skirt. Upon 
 the latter, and also upon the green bodice, were dis- 
 covered lighter green patches of velvet, representing 
 golf greens. A river of grey satin ran across her back 
 beneath painted bridges. The girl possessed a 
 peculiarly bright, cheery face, with delightful brown 
 eyes, and, as she sauntered across the passage, there 
 was a noticeable graceful swing in her walk that 
 attracted Mallory's comprehensive scrutiny at first 
 sight. 
 
 Barry at once elbowed his way through the throng 
 in the new arrival's direction, but Martin w^as before 
 him. In another moment the latter had carried her 
 off and had cnt'cred the ball-room. 
 
 Desmond had been keeping his eye upon the ladies' 
 room. Presently, Cicely, a dainty vision in the dress 
 of a Punchinello y hurried, laughing, towards him. 
 
 ** I hope you haven't waited very long? " she cried. 
 " I couldn't get this wretched cap right. This is 
 only an extra, I think. Ours is the first proper dance, 
 isn't it? " 
 
 As she spoke, she patted a little pointed cap of 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 277 
 
 cornflower blue velvet, decorated with a couple of 
 small bells, which sat saucily upon her masses of 
 black hair. 
 
 Desmond noted her heightened colour, her slightly 
 parted lips, her dancing eyes, and thought that he 
 had never in his life seen any costume so bewitching. 
 She wore a short voluminous skirt of many broad 
 stripes of white and cornflower blue, silk stockings 
 and shoes of the same shade of blue, and a soft 
 white satin bodice beribboned and slashed with the 
 same blue which matched the blue depths of her 
 eyes. 
 
 ** Do you like me? " she whispered, naively. *' I 
 hope you do, because Meg designed this For me. I 
 think it very pretty." 
 
 His eyes beamed admiration. 
 
 '' Yes, I like it." 
 
 " M— mm— you're not very enthusiastic!" she 
 said, with a pout. 
 
 ** Perhaps I shall be able to express myself better 
 later on — when — I — er— have got used to it. If you 
 still wash to dance, shall we begin? " 
 
 The next moment found them in the midst of the 
 dancers. Cicely caught the eyes of Barry signalling 
 frantically, but smilingly shook her head. A few 
 minutes later she saw him consoling himself with a 
 plump girl in blue, who was dimpling prettily at his 
 admiring comments. Martin and his friend in the 
 golf costume were merrily greeting their many 
 acquaintances as they steered their way down the 
 room. The native infantry band was playing better 
 even than usual. Things w^ere beginning to hum with 
 all the verve of assured success. 
 
 Cicely was enjoying herself immensely. Her pro- 
 
278 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 gramme was quite fulL Everybody was charmingly 
 friendly and appreciative. Mallory had secured the 
 second dance. Martin had gone off to reserve a large 
 table for a supper which he intended should be the 
 feature of the evening. 
 
 Downstairs in the bar, wHere the non-dancing men 
 had gathered together in force, Desmond was quietly 
 smoking. On the verandah Gordon and Margaret sat 
 alone amidst the shadows. Presently the band ceased, 
 and the heated dancers flocked into the crisp air. A 
 pierrot and a butterfly, a sailor and a vivandiere, a 
 yeoman of the guard and a Swiss maiden hurried in 
 quick succession to find comfortable corners. Three 
 naval officers, who had arrived upon the scene too late 
 to secure dances, were importuning Cicely upon the 
 stairs. 
 
 Supper came at last. Gordon's party, with i\Iartin 
 and his pretty friend in the golf dress, to whom also 
 Barry and the girl with the dimple attached them- 
 selves, occupied their reserved table. It was a cheery, 
 joyous supper. The planting element had come to 
 enjoy themselves, and they were doing it. 
 
 "Cheer oh, Joe!" cried Martin, as his friend in 
 the billiard dress passed by. *' Give you fifty in a 
 hundred, and play you for a dib ! " 
 
 " Ho, indeed! " exclaimed the other, breaking into 
 a most realistic imitation of a duck quack'ing^ 
 "Who's afraid?" 
 
 Suddenly above the din arose the dreamy strains 
 of one of Strauss's waltzes. Desmond caught Cicely's 
 glance, and together they rose from the table. 
 
 " Shall we sit it out? " she asked. " Or would you 
 rather dance? " 
 
 " Let us go on to the verandah and see the moon- 
 
CICELY TN CEYLON 279 
 
 light upon the lake,'' he replied. '' Do you remem- 
 ber the night we sat waiting for the panther? " 
 
 ** Every moment of it," she whispered. " Here's 
 a nice place sheltered by this screen. Let us sit here, 
 shall we?" 
 
 The sky was clear of any cloud, and out in the open 
 upon the race-course, and beyond where the waters 
 of the lake shimmered in the night breeze, the moon- 
 light shed a silver glow almost as light as day. 
 Opposite, against the skyline, frowned the black hills 
 of jungle. Frogs croaked, as usual, in the distance. 
 Cicely recalled the many such night scenes that she 
 had enjoyed since she arrived in Ceylon, and sighed. 
 The thought that they must come to an end had, for 
 the moment, cast its shadow upon her. 
 
 '' Do you know," said Desmond, presently, " I am 
 not sure that your dress quite suits you to-night. As 
 a rule it would— admirably. It is a costume that at 
 most times would suit your natural vivacity 
 perfectly." 
 
 *'Oh! But why, then, not to-night?" she 
 questioned in genuine surprise. 
 
 Desmond turned towards her, studying her face as 
 he spoke. 
 
 ''Because," he replied, "you are unusually quiet 
 to-night. Your eyes are so peculiarly free from their 
 ordinary mischievous twinkle that you might easily 
 grace the costume of a Quaker girl." He paused, but 
 the girl answered nothing. "What is troubling 
 you? Can I help? You said, you know, that, as a 
 chaperon, there would s^till be many troubles in which 
 I should have to help. Tell me— have any of those 
 troubles, which you so laughingly referred to, by any 
 chance come to pass? " 
 
28o CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 **No . . . Not exactly." 
 
 " Has Mallory been troubling again? " 
 
 *'No." 
 
 '' Won't you tell me what it is? " 
 
 Cicely looked across to the dim outlines of the hills, 
 and for a few moments she was very still. 
 
 " I don't think there is anything to tell," she said, 
 at last. " I get a little impatient and even depressed 
 sometimes, but it is nothing really, I think. It will, 
 I believe, all come out one day in the washing. I am 
 sorry if I appear dull." She broke into a gentle 
 chuckle. " I suppose I must laugh and be merry, or 
 doff my cap and bells, without delay. Heigh, oh, 
 merrily we go! Come and dance! I'll dance this 
 waltz with you, and somehow make my peace with its 
 rightful owner afterwards." 
 
 The ball-room by this time presented a very festive 
 scene. Supper and champagne had not failed to give 
 any stimulus which may have been wanting at an 
 earlier hour of the evening. A riotous set of lancers 
 was in full swing as Desmond and Cicely entered the 
 room. Mallory was absent in the bar downstairs, but 
 Barry and Martin were both very much en evidence, 
 and the latter's friend "Joe" was keeping his own 
 set of lancers in roars of laughter as he bowed and 
 scraped to his partner in imitation of a French dancing 
 master. 
 
 Margaret and Gordon were not to be seen, and no 
 one seemed to know anything about them. 
 
 By special request, the band broke into a rollicking 
 coon dance. Cicely, throwing sadness to the winds, 
 joined the giddy throng with all her accustomed 
 vivacity. Desmond noted the change, and, man-like, 
 wondered. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 281 
 
 It was well on into the early hours of the morning 
 before Gordon appeareH" from nowhere, and gathered 
 his flock together. 
 
 The dance was voted by all to have been a wonder- 
 ful success. Barry, still complacently happy in his 
 romantic role, joined them in the car, Martin and he 
 dexterously occupying the luggage rack behind. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 The morning broke clear and beautiful, with just that 
 tinge of nippiness of the air that added colour to wan 
 cheeks and a tonic to jaded appetite. It was decided 
 at breakfast that it would be a pity to waste such a 
 heavenly day in idling on the tennis courts, so Gordon 
 suggested a run in the car to see Hakgala gardens. 
 
 This scheme was accepted with alacrity. An early 
 tiffin, and a tea-basket in the car with them, was voted 
 to be an excellent idea. The run- to the gardens was 
 only half-a-dozen miles. They could saunter about its 
 shady walks until tea-time, and then meet again at 
 the shelter provided for visitors, where they could 
 make their own tea in seclusion. 
 
 Mallory elected to stay with the tennis people, and 
 Martin consequently begged for the spare seat in the 
 car. 
 
 It was a delightful, easy run down the winding road 
 beyond the head of the lake. On the left of the 
 narrow track there was a sheer drop into a vallev, 
 beyond which great hills of patna grass rose precipit- 
 ously, and straight before them lay the majestic 
 Hakgala hill itself, like a sentinel watching over the 
 plains of Uva. The sapphire sky, the panoramic 
 vastness of hill and plain, and the stillness over all 
 produced an impressive grandeur that silenced 
 speech. 
 
 Leaving the car at the gates of the gardens, Gordon 
 
 282 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 283 
 
 sent Peter with the baslcet to the tea-house, and started 
 off, with Margaret, down one of the numerous paths 
 which wound through the densely-planted woods. 
 
 It was all very beautiful, and the intersecting paths 
 led through ever-changing scenes of wildness, which 
 the hand of man had helped to perfect. Every con- 
 ceivable wild flower grew by the wayside, and ferns 
 of every local description formed a green fairyland. 
 
 Martin, knowing the geography of the place, 
 dropped behind with Cicely, and at her instigation 
 they deserted Gordon and his partner and wandered 
 off into a bye-way. 
 
 Desmond, having discovered a comfortable seat, lit 
 his pipe, and deliberately remained where he found 
 himself. He appeared, indeed, to have much to think 
 about. To abstain from telling Cicely that he loved 
 her was momentarily growing more difficult. And 
 yet, was it fair to her — to the others — to declare his 
 feelings towards her? They had, hitherto, been such 
 a happy little party. What if he ruined it all for 
 everybody? There was still the voyage to Englanc| 
 to be considered. 
 
 Gordon and Margaret, oblivious of their surround- 
 ings, slowly disappeared down an incline leading to 
 the densest part of a grove of trees laden with hanging 
 creepers. 
 
 It was quite time for tea before Martin could be 
 induced to return with Cicely to the wooden shelter. 
 The latter, erected with one side open, which looked 
 out upon the broad expanse of valley, was in an 
 excellent situation. The view from the little plateau 
 was superbly grand and beautiful. Hills upon hills 
 of yellow patna, numerous paddy fields, a thousand 
 feet down in the hollow, and a glimpse of the red 
 
284 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 huts at Diyatalawa camp, twenty miles away, lay 
 spread out below them. 
 
 Desmond had found his way there first. When 
 Martin and Cicely emerged from the w^ood, he was 
 whistHng softly while employing himself in unpack- 
 ing the tea-basket and lighting the spirit kettle for tea. 
 There was as yet no sign of Margaret and Gordon. 
 
 The merest suspicion of a cloud hung above 
 Hakgala; otherwise, amidst the clear rarefied atmos- 
 phere of the uplands, the outlines of the hills stood 
 out with a wonderful sharpness of definition. All was 
 still — the leaves, the lizards and chameleons, even the 
 gaily-plumaged little birds — all were silent. 
 
 Presently the kettle boiled. Cicely, refusing to 
 wait longer for her uncle and Margaret, poured out 
 the tea. Martin expounded the latest news from 
 Jaffna. Desmond, making a remark at intervals, 
 watched the varying expressions upon Cicely's face 
 as Martin rattled on. They finished their tea, and 
 yet the others did not come. 
 
 '* Come along," cried Cicely at last, " we'll have to 
 organise a search party. I expect it is a case of the 
 babes in the wood again. Perhaps the wicked uncle 
 has at last met with his deserts, and himself been lost 
 in the wood! " 
 
 She ran down a main path as she spoke. Desmond 
 and Martin followed. Running suddenly to the left, 
 Cicely came to a full stop, half turned to retrace her 
 steps, and then stopped again as Gordon's voice, 
 breaking upon the dead stillness of fairyland, arrested 
 her. 
 
 " Oh! " she exclaimed. 
 
 Gordon and Margaret, hand in hand, and un- 
 abashed, were slowly walking up the path, 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 285 
 
 Desmond and ^Martin, too surprised to speak, stared 
 with open eyes. 
 
 "Cicely," said Gordon, joyously, "come and be 
 introduced to a lady who has promised to accept me 
 as her fiance. ^^ 
 
 " Oh, I am so glad! " cried Cicely. " I told you 
 I should have to find you a nice wife, and Meg is one 
 in a thousand." 
 
 With outstretched arms she ran forward, and, 
 embracing Margaret in a delighted hug, kissed her 
 enthusiastically. 
 
 "Thank you," whispered Margaret, simply. 
 
 " But, you see, I didn't wait for you to find her for 
 me," replied Gordon. 
 
 "Oh, didnH you? Why, I saw it ages ago, and 
 helped heaps and heaps, so that is all you know about 
 it," answered Cicely. " I think men are the very 
 stupidest things on earth, and as for uncles— well — 
 there! " 
 
 " I congratulate you both, heartily," said Desmond, 
 quietly. " I couldn't have wished you better luck, 
 Meg." He laughed softly. " And I am sure you 
 will make a most efficient aunt for a— er — certain 
 young person." 
 
 " Pouf ! I'll have two of them to look after now," 
 cried Cicely. 
 
 The tea was quite cold when they again found 
 themselves in the shelter, but nobody seemed to notice 
 it. Cicely was full of a delightful patronage of her 
 uncle and Margaret, and amused herself and them by 
 giving hints regarding the public behaviour of an 
 engaged couple. 
 
 It w^as dark by the time they reached the hoteL 
 Mallory was impatiently kicking his heels in the hall 
 
286 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 when they arrived. He said he had had a dull day, 
 and was inclined to be grumpy. But nobody for the 
 rest of that evening was allowed to be dull. Margaret 
 was very quiet, but the others, insisting upon cham- 
 pagne—and plenty of it— to drink healths, grew 
 exuberantly joyous. 
 
 Over late cigars that night Gordon talked to 
 Desmond. He arranged that he would join their 
 party, and that they should all return to England in a 
 month's time. Margaret wished to be married at 
 home, and, as far as Gordon was concerned, the less 
 the delay the better pleased he would be. 
 
 "We will walk up Pedro to-morrow morning, 
 purely because it is a pity to leave the country without 
 doing so," said Gordon. " There will then be the 
 race ball and the finals of the tennis to see this week. 
 By Sunday half of the people will have left the place. 
 On ]\Ionday I have arranged a two-days' trip to the 
 Horton Plains. We'll have to ride there, as the 
 motor is no use. I have borrowed a few horses here, 
 and I'll send to the estate for any riding kit you may 
 all want. It is a nineteen-mile ride there by a bridle 
 path, and there is an excellent Rest House on the top, 
 some thousand feet above this. The car will wait for 
 us here. After that we must return to the estate, as 
 I shall have a lot to do before I leave for England. I 
 am a lucky man, old fellow! " 
 
 Desmond sighed lugubriously. " Yes. Although 
 I am possibly prejudiced, I may say that I think you 
 are," he replied. " I am very glad for her sake, all 
 the same, although I dread to think what is to become 
 of me when you are married, and I have to run my 
 own show for myself." 
 
 " Oh, well," laughed Gordon, happily, "you must 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON ^87 
 
 look out for a wife yourself, that's all. Perhaps 
 Cicely, who poses as the universal provider, may be 
 able to help?" 
 
 Desmond, with an exaggeration of indifference, 
 yawned and sauntered to the door. He rfiade no 
 answer, but Gordon, deeply abstracted with his own 
 affairs, again failed to notice. 
 
 The journey to the top of Pedro mountain next 
 morning was undertaken more as a duty than a 
 pleasure. Every tourist, with sufficient strength of 
 muscle and wind, is expected to climb the two- 
 thousand feet which the top of Pedro adds to the 
 elevation of Nuwera Eliya. 
 
 The morning, transcendently beautiful, proved to 
 be well chosen. The winding footpath mounted ever 
 upwards through jungle which, on either side, was 
 absolutely impenetrable. The trees, more or less 
 stunted, and moss-grown to an extent mostly seen in 
 spectacular forests on the theatrical stage, thrus't their 
 gnarled branches above the scrub. Here and there an 
 opening, cut by the Forest Department, enabled them 
 to gain a wonderful view of the valley of Nuwera 
 Eliya, hundreds of feet below. 
 
 Upon the top there was neither tree nor shrub. A 
 cairn of stones, surmounted by a wooden staff, marked 
 the highest point in Ceylon ; and from this elevation 
 they could, with field glasses, obtain a glimpse of the 
 sea itself. 
 
 After the Pedro climb they w^re all quite content to 
 idle away the afternoon watching the tennis. Their 
 holiday was rapidly drawing to an end, and the days 
 that remained could be counted with painful 
 exactitude. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 Not to be outdone by its predecessors, the day chosen 
 for the ride to the Morton Plains broke clear and 
 frostily. The flowers in the hotel garden were scintil- 
 lating with dewy radiance as the sun shot across the 
 tea hills. The sky was cloudless. 
 
 Martin had asked his golf friend of the fancy dress 
 dance to join the party. Cicely and Margaret had 
 met her several times since the ball, and expressed, 
 themselves delighted to have her. They had not, 
 however, bargained for the presence of Mr. Barry, 
 who was found, already mounted and waiting for 
 them at the hotel door as they hurried from an early 
 meal and came forth to inspect the horses. 
 
 Gordon at once collected the various native grooms, 
 and sent them off across country, with the boxes con- 
 taining changes of clotHes upon their heads, so that 
 when the party arrived at the Rest House there would 
 be some clean clothes to meet them. 
 
 Both Margaret and Cicely looked exceptionally well 
 in their riding habits. Few w^omen look as well on 
 a horse as on foot. Cicely's dark habit fitted her 
 to perfection, and the white solar helmet upon her 
 dark hair added a charm with which the conventional 
 English felt hat could never have competed. 
 
 With one accord Mallory and Martin ran forward 
 to help her mount, but, with an unexpected move- 
 
 288 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 289 
 
 ment, Desmond intervened, and, before the others had 
 been given time to expostulate, he had deftly lifted 
 her into the saddle. 
 
 It was a merry party that wound its way in double 
 file down the Nanuoya Road. Half a mile ahead 
 could be seen the string of grooms, running at a jog 
 trot across country by short cuts where horses could 
 not travel. 
 
 As the sun rose the air grew warmer, but still 
 remained delightfully invigorating. Gordon and 
 Margaret rode ahead. At Blackpool they left the 
 main road, and led the way up a bridle path which 
 for some miles could be seen winding its way 
 through the open patnas. 
 
 Despite the joyousness of the morning, there was a 
 tinge of melancholy in Cicely's heart. Every now 
 and again she would be reminded by some trivial 
 remark or incident that this was probably to be the 
 very last jaunt they would all take together. Desmond 
 rode at her elbow. He seemed to be studying her 
 intently. He was very silent, but neither seemed to be 
 embarrassed by the lack of conversation. 
 
 Their horses leisurely climbed the narrow road, and 
 as an occasional level stretch came into view they 
 would break into a trot. Presently, the railway came 
 into sight. Crossing the track, they again left 
 civilization, continuing their way by hill and dale 
 until the Rest House at Pattipola came into view. 
 
 As they had been several hours on the road, it was 
 agreed to halt there. In a few moments there were tables 
 laden with the various liquid refreshments to be 
 obtained, hurriedly brought forth into the open com- 
 pound. The sun was getting hot, and several hours 
 of the journey still remained to be completed. 
 
290 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 From Pattipola onwards the road soon rose, almost 
 precipitously. Then, from the open country, they 
 entered dense jungle. In places, the gradient became 
 so steep that the men dismounted and led their tired 
 animals. 
 
 Mallory had been making strenuous attempts since 
 leaving the Rest House to catch Cicely's attention. 
 But for some reason best known to himself Desmond 
 had grown strangely obtuse. No hints, however 
 broad, from Mallory could dislodge him from his 
 position as Cicely's escort. In a little while she 
 dismounted also. 
 
 Slinging the bridles of both horses over his arm, 
 Desmond walked by the girl's side up the steep path. 
 The horses, carefully picking their way over the loose 
 stones and projecting roots, followed in their wake. 
 
 The forest was alive wMth birds. The smell of the 
 yellow nillo flowers permeated the air. Now and 
 again a green lizard scuttled casually across the path, 
 or a jungle fowl whirred noisily out of the scrub and 
 disappeared into a tree top. 
 
 It was almost noon before the open plateau of the 
 Horton Plains came into sight. 
 
 " Oh, here we are at last," cried Cicely. " And I 
 am so hungry and thirsty. Who's for a race? " 
 
 A level stretch of more than a mile, free from trees, 
 lay before them. The plateau, seven thousand feet 
 above sea level, stretched out for miles of open patnas 
 and clearings. The horses were tired, but, scenting 
 rest and fodder, pricked up their ears and readily 
 responded to a touch of the spur. 
 
 " Come along," responded Mallory, ramming his 
 heels into his cob. 
 
 In another moment the whole cavalcade were scam- 
 
 J 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 291 
 
 pering across the plateau. Cicely sat her horse well, 
 and had excellent hands. She had captured the start 
 and kept it. Mallory, Desmond, and ?^Iartin thun- 
 dered along, shouting and racing neck and neck, but 
 the girl reached the entrance to the Rest House first, 
 and dashed up the garden path. 
 
 The house was a long rambling building, with 
 stables behind. The syces, having carefully selected 
 a continuance of short cuts, had already arrived with 
 the boxes. 
 
 The girls wasted no time in finding their rooms and 
 washing away the dust of the road. The men found 
 plenty of accommodation as well. One dormitory 
 possessed no less than five beds, and there it was that 
 Mallory, Barry, and Martin elected to camp out in 
 company. The house was often patronised by elk 
 hunters and fishermen, and was in consequence 
 unusually large. 
 
 The luncheon was good, and, in any case, the 
 appetites of the visitors were such that they were by 
 no means inclined for captious criticism. No railway 
 was nearer than six miles, and there was not even a 
 cart road. All food had to be carried on coolies' 
 heads. The mountain streams were well stocked with 
 trou? by a hill fishing club of which Gordon was a 
 member. 
 
 The three occupants of the large dormitory were in 
 hilarious spirits. If Mallory felt cause for depression 
 he was certainly most effectually hustled out of it by 
 the others. Martin, with the prospective dulness of 
 Jaffna looming in the background, gave himself up to 
 present joy. Gordon and Margaret were calmly 
 happy. 
 
 Desmond still continued to be occupied with his 
 
292 CICELY IX CEYLON 
 
 thoughts, but Cicely, with the remembrance in her 
 mind of the painfully near approach of the end of her 
 glorious Eastern holiday, let herself go, with an 
 almost exaggerated air of gaiety. 
 
 In fact, that day the girl dared not pause to think. 
 There was a sadness in the parting with this land 
 which she had grown to love so well that, try as she 
 would to avoid it, would persist in thrusting itself 
 into her heart. 
 
 The glamour of the East had enveloped her with 
 that magic mantle which, to some natures, is so 
 extraordinarily difficult to throw off. At least, that 
 was the cause assigned by herself to a recurring wave 
 of melancholy, which, during the last few days, had 
 persisted in thrusting itself upon her, even in what 
 should have been her merriest moments. 
 
 After tiffin the girls retired to give themselves up 
 to a siesta, and the men wandered off to the stables. 
 About four o'clock they were all quite ready for tea. 
 There was a large covered-in verandah, or porch, in 
 front, furnished with comfortable chairs, where 
 Margaret dispensed tea. 
 
 The piece de resistance of the scenerv of the 
 "Hortons" was ^'The End of the World." A 
 path of about half a mile in length led from the Rest 
 House, first through open country, and then by a 
 jungle opening, until it emerged upon a grass-grown 
 cliff' ending in an abysmal drop into nothingness — 
 *'the end of the world." 
 
 Reaching the spot, fhey threw themselves upon the 
 grass. As far as the eye could reach could be seen 
 the tea estates, rice fields, streams, and mountains 
 of Uva, five thousand feet below. 
 
 The majesty of the hills, and the wonderful 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 293 
 
 panorama of the low-lands, were unspeakably impres- 
 sive. The place was well named. It was indeed the 
 end of the world. 
 
 Beneath the glow of gold and crimson and violet 
 spreading over the distant hill-tops, they at length 
 slowly sauntered back to the bungalow, drinking in the 
 beauty of a scene most of them would probably never 
 view again. 
 
 The large common-room of the bungalow, with 
 its long table laid for dinner, and its great stone fire- 
 place filled with blazing logs, looked particularly 
 inviting. 
 
 The meal proved unusually hilarious. Barry and 
 Mallory, bubbling with anecdote, kept things moving, 
 and Gordon, who during the previous few days seemed 
 to have dropped quite ten years of his age, urged 
 them on to repeated effort. 
 
 After dinner the party gathered about the log fire, 
 and Martin volunteered to tell a story. Then some- 
 body called for a song with a chorus. ^lallory, 
 nothing loth, broke forth into a music-hall ditty which 
 he had absorbed in Dublin. The chorus had an 
 excellent swing to it, and presently the rafters shook 
 sufficiently to please even Mallory himself. 
 
 An encore was demanded, and again Mallory, at 
 the top of his lung-power, answered to the call, the 
 song including another chorus. 
 
 Except for the light of the fire, the room was in 
 darkness. Cicely, somewhat behind the others, with 
 Desmond nex,t to her, was sitting near the door 
 leading to the porch. 
 
 Presently, during the chorus, Desmond glanced 
 behind him into the shadows, then quietly leaned 
 across to Cicely. 
 
294 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 •'Come out, and see the moon rising over Uva," 
 he whispered softl\'. 
 
 For an instant the girl hesitated. To sHp away 
 from the fireside circle would be a particularly 
 conspicuous action. 
 
 Looking quickly at Desmond's face, half-illumined 
 by the firelight, her eyes dropped. There was some- 
 thing in his attitude, the tone of his voice as he asked 
 her, the very fact that he had asked her at all, that 
 drew her almost against her will. For the moment 
 nobody but Desmond was looking her way. Again 
 the chorus burst forth : — 
 
 *' She had bells on her fingers and rings on her 
 Toes." 
 
 Without a word Cicely slipped softly through the 
 door, and oiit into the moonlit porch. 
 
 " Come to the end of the garden," suggested 
 Desmond at her elbow. " It is too shut-in to see the 
 plains from here." 
 
 A peculiar sense of irresponsible obedience seemed 
 to have suddenly possessed the girl. Glancing once 
 more at Desmond's earnest face, she did not hesitatb 
 for an instant. Where at that moment he cared to 
 lead, she would blindly follow. But there was a little 
 nervous catch in her voice as she gave her answer. 
 
 *' Do you think we ought to leave the others?" 
 she asked, descending the steps. 
 
 '* Yes — if only for this once — we must,*' he replied, 
 taking her hand instinctively. 
 
 Down the broad path of the garden they sauntered 
 to the gate. The moon, at its fullest brilliancy,^ 
 flooded the place with almost the light of day. The 
 air was on the verge of frost, but neither of them 
 seemed to notice it. 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 295 
 
 *' I have given Jack Mallory^ his chance," said 
 Desmond bluntly, studying the girl's profile as she 
 leaned against the gate, *' and now I intend to take 
 my own." 
 
 For a moment he stood waiting for her to move, 
 but she made no sign. 
 
 " At one time it must have looked to you almost 
 as if you were the Puritan maid, Priscilla, and I John 
 Alden," he laughed. ** But I am afraid I would 
 never do for a John Alden. I have loved you for 
 myself from the first. And never did I imagine you 
 to be to me like Priscilla. I am asking a lot. Cicely 
 — asking you to give your sweet joy of youth to a dull 
 plodder." With a sudden movement he stood close 
 to her, seizing her hands. " I dare sav I am a fool. 
 Am I?" 
 
 There was no trace of coquetry in her face as she 
 met his question. All flippancy, so far as he was 
 concerned, had long since left her. Within the 
 depths of her eyes there had come a sudden light 
 which no man had ever seen there before. 
 
 *' I would have made a perfect Priscilla, had I been 
 tempted," she whispered, with a half-stifled laugh. 
 
 " Cicely," he murmured hoarsely, *' do you realise 
 that it is for always? " 
 
 *' Yes, for always and always," she sighed 
 happily. 
 
 The next moment she was in his arms. 
 
 " Do you really and truly know what you are 
 promising? " he cried presently, holding her at arms- 
 length, and searching her blushing face. *' Can you 
 really mean it? " 
 
296 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 '• I seem to have always meant it," she answered 
 quietly. 
 
 From across the garden there echoed through the 
 stillness of the night the sound of a woman's voice 
 singing a joyous love song. 
 
 ** We must go in," whispered Cicely. 
 
 For answer, Desmond tenderly raised her face to 
 his, and kissed her passionately. 
 
 For some moments neither spoke. Then, with a 
 sudden return to her old habit of banter, Cicely 
 chuckled. 
 
 " And do you still think that girls should not 
 marry until they are twenty-five? " she whispered. 
 
 ''H'ml" 
 
 "Do you?" she persisted. 
 
 "It depends on the girl, I think," he laughed, 
 slipping his arm again about her lissom w^aist. 
 *' Some girls should marry at just about twenty-one." 
 
 "Oh! And flirt afterwards, then?" she inquired 
 mischievously. " How, otherwise, is one to get in 
 those delectable years of ' fling,' of which we have 
 heard so much? " 
 
 " Well, sweetheart," he replied, " I do not see why 
 we should not have it together, do you? " 
 
 Nestling her head confidingly against Desmond's/ 
 shoulder, Cicely looked up into his face and sighed 
 with happiness. 
 
 "That is what I have been longing for all the 
 time," she said softly. 
 
CONCLUSION. 
 
 For some time there was silence,— a silence which 
 each seemed afraid to break in upon. Nature was 
 hushed, the moonbeams strayed alluringly through 
 the tree-tops, and, falling on the ferns and under- 
 growth, made the scene resemble fairyland. In the 
 solemn stillness Cicely felt that peculiar thrill which 
 is only experienced when one ventures for the first 
 time upon the threshold of a new and unknown world. 
 At length she said softly : 
 
 •' Had we not better go in, Desmond? The others 
 will be beginning to wonder." 
 
 Desmond turned, and, taking Cicely's hand, they 
 retraced their steps. She wondered at his silence, 
 and glanced up shyly into his face, but the words 
 she was about to utter w^ere left unsaid;— she saw— 
 and was content. 
 
 As thev entered the door of the bungalow the group 
 sitting round the fire turned towards them. 
 
 '* Come on, you truants ! " shouted Mallory. " It's 
 your turn for a song, ^liss Rosmead, I — " 
 
 He broke off suddenly, and the words died on his 
 lips, while all his boisterousness was gone like a flash. 
 The others instinctively rose to their feet and gazed' 
 at them wonderingly. 
 
 Desmond appeared transformed, he seemed ten 
 years younger, his figure was firm and erect, there 
 
 297 
 
298 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 was a spring in his step, a gladness and light in his 
 eyes which none had seen before. He stood holding 
 Cicely's hand; — no words were needed, the unwonted 
 flush on Cicely's cheeks, and her glad look of shy 
 happiness told everything. 
 
 Margaret was the first to recover. " Oh ! I am so 
 glad!" she exclaimed as she sprang forward, and, 
 putting her arms round Cicely, kissed her affection- 
 ately. Then, with womanly solicitude, she led her 
 away into the shadows. 
 
 '' Fleartiest congratulations, old chap!" exclaimed 
 Gordon, warmly seizing Desmond's hand. " I am 
 more glad than I can say. You thoroughly deservq 
 her!" 
 
 " Hanged if I'm going to congratulate you, 
 Cleeve ! " exclaimed Barry, shaking his fist at 
 Desmond. "This means, I suppose, that for the 
 future you're going to monopolise Miss Rosmead 
 entirely? " 
 
 Gordon chuckled. ** They're not married yet, 
 Barry, so make what running you can while you have 
 the chance! " 
 
 "Splendid!" exclaimed Barry. "But let's cele- 
 brate! Here!" he shouted, "Who's for drinks? 
 Light the lamp, and let us celebrate the occasion ! 
 We must drink your healths and give you our 
 blessing ! " 
 
 Rushing away to the rear of the bungalow, Barry 
 roused the rest-house keeper from his slumbers, and 
 soon returned with a plentiful supply of bottles and 
 glasses. 
 
 "Here, come on, all of you!" he shouted 
 hilariouslv. "We don't get engaged every day! 
 At least, I don't! " 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 299 
 
 Mari^aret and Cicely, with their arms entwined, 
 emerged from a far corner, '' But where is Mr. 
 Mallory?" exclaimed Cicely. 
 
 They looked round— Mallory was gone. 
 
 Gordon and Desmond exchanged swift glances. 
 *' He's taking it badly, I fear," murmured the former. 
 
 Desmond nodded, '' I'm sorry! — But Mallory is a 
 good chap — he'll come round." 
 
 At that moment Malldry entered the room. His 
 face was pale, but he smiled as he went up to Cicely. 
 
 " Please accept my warmest congratulations. Miss 
 Rosmead," he exclaimed heartily. " Cleeve is the 
 luckiest fellow in the world!" 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Mallory," 
 
 There was a look in Cicely's eyes, an inflexion in 
 her voice, which caused Mallory to turn away 
 abruptly. 
 
 *' Heartiest congratulations, Cleeve ! " he exclaimed 
 to Desmond. '' I have been expecting it lately." 
 
 Desmond gripped his hand. " Thanks very much, 
 Mallory," he said, quietly. 
 
 " Now then ! " broke in Barry, as he handed round 
 a tray of well-filled glasses. *' Are you ready? 
 Musical honours!" Jumping on to a chair, and 
 beating time with his hand, he roared at the top of 
 his voice, Gordon and Mallory joining in ;— 
 
 " For he's a jolly good fellow. 
 
 And so say all of us! " 
 
 When the excitement had subsided, Gordon, look- 
 ing unusually solemn, said: *' Now, I am going to 
 have an extra glass in order to congratulate myself.'" 
 
 "What about?" exclaimed Cicely. 
 
 Gordon looked at her with mischief in his eyes. 
 *' As Desmond has now been foolish enough to relieve 
 
300 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 me of the grave responsibility which has rested on 
 my shoulders ever since my niece landed in Ceylon, 
 I must celebrate it. But" — shaking his head — *' I 
 feel sorry for Mr. Cleeve in having taken on such a 
 handful permanently! " 
 
 A roar of laughter broke from Barry and Mallory, 
 while Cicely waxed indignant. 
 
 ** The cheek of uncles!" she exclaimed. 
 
 Margaret now interposed. '* I think the best thing 
 we can do is to get to bed. We have to start very 
 early, you know." 
 
 *' Good nights " were said, amid considerable chaff 
 and banter, and then Margaret drew Cicely away. 
 
 The next evening Gordon's car once more climbed 
 the hill to. his factory. Every journey now possessed 
 an additional interest, for it was the last time before 
 they sailed for England that they would view the 
 scenes which were so indelibly impressed upon thdir 
 memories. Declining an invitation to spend the] 
 remaining few days with them, Mallory had left for 
 Colombo, with the intention of securing a passage to 
 Japan. Gordon had a great deal of work to carry 
 through in connection with his estate before he could 
 be ready to sail, and the vast amount of detail kept 
 him busily occupied. 
 
 But for Cicely and Desmond they were indeed 
 golden days. Having no duties they were free to 
 dream away the hours as they wished. The peace 
 of the lovely green valleys, the calm reposeful majesty 
 of the everlasting hills, the beauty of the glorious 
 Ceylon sunsets, all found an echo in their own hearts, 
 which responded readily to the glamour of their 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 301 
 
 elysian surroundings in those never-to-be-forgo»tten 
 days, when the real world, with its troubles and 
 difficulties, seemed very far away. 
 
 But all things come to an end, and it was with a 
 feeling approaching sadness that one day Cicely 
 watched a long string of coolies, their heads 
 laden with trunks, fiUng down the path leading to 
 the cart road. 
 
 Several hundred estate coolies stood massed a short 
 distance away, ready to shout their respectful fare- 
 well to " master." 
 
 Cicely took a last long survey of the scene before 
 her, and then turned with misty eyes to enter the 
 waiting motor car. Desmond seemed to understand 
 her feelings intuitively, and the drive to the station 
 was accomplished in silence. Catching the morning 
 train, they reached Colombo before dinner time, and 
 drove to the Galle Face Hotel. On inquiry they 
 learned that the P. & O. mail boat would not be 
 leaving till the following afternoon. 
 
 As they entered the vestibule a hearty shout of 
 welcome greeted them, and the next moment Jack 
 Mallory, in immaculate new clothes and gorgeous 
 socks, with a bunch of violets in his buttonhole, was 
 shaking hands and talking nineteen to the dozen. 
 
 " Here you are at last! " he exclaimed. " I can't 
 tell you how I have missed you all ! This being your 
 last night in Ceylon we are going to celebrate,— it is 
 to be a gala night in honour of engaged couples! I 
 have had a private dining-room reserved, and after 
 dinner we shall have a dance. Now, Miss Rosmead, 
 you won't forget me, will you? Right! " as Cicely 
 smiled and nodded. " Barry is coming, also Martin, 
 who is down, and several officers from Diyatalawa. 
 
302 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 and the garrison here. It is to be no ordinary 
 occasion, I can tell you ! " 
 
 Mallory rattled on, scarcely giving them the 
 opportunity of expressing their thanks, till Gordon 
 exclaimed laughingly : " Well, you seem to have made 
 all arrangements, — the only thing for us to do, 
 apparently, is to fall in with them!" 
 
 ''Absolutely nothing else to be done!" retorted 
 Mallory. 
 
 Cicely and Margaret were in their gayest mood 
 during dinner. Everybody seemed determined to 
 enjoy themselves to the utmost, and in the general 
 air of gaiety and hearty good-fellowship which pre- 
 vailed, there was no room for vain regrets or sorrow 
 at the morrow's parting. 
 
 Long before they had finished dinner the band had 
 started to play in the great ball room. To lose such 
 an opportunity was not to be thought of. 
 
 Many other ladies were present, but Margaret and 
 Cicely were in great request, and found it impossible 
 to give all the dances demanded of them. Catching? 
 Gordon and Desmond together, Martin, arm-in-arm 
 with Barry, rushed up to them. 
 
 "This is our last chance!" he exclaimed. "As 
 you are going to monopolise the two ladies after to- 
 night, you must not expect any dances with them 
 now! " 
 
 The two men laughed good-humouredly, and the 
 fun became fast and furious. Supper was served at 
 midnight, but it was past two o'clock before the last 
 dance was finished. 
 
 Margaret and Cicely were in the highest spirits, 
 and proved the centre of attraction, people thronged 
 round them to .say " Good-bye " and offer their con- 
 
CICELY IN CEYLON 303 
 
 gratulations and good wishes. The thorough 
 heartiness and sincerity of the warm invitations to visit 
 Ceylon again touched Cicely, Margaret, and Des- 
 mond, and the farewells proved more trying than they 
 had anticipated. 
 
 "Here!" suddenly exclaimed Mallory. "Last 
 round! Join hands! ' Auld Lang Syne '! " 
 
 The whole company joined hands, and a mighty 
 shout went up, which woke many guests sleeping in 
 the hotel, and caused the night watchman in the 
 portico outside to run up the steps to see what was 
 wTong. 
 
 ■X- 4f * * * 
 
 In the soft light of evening, four people stood at 
 the taffrail of the great English mail boat, which, with 
 engines at full speed, was surging swiftly through the 
 waters of the Indian Ocean In the direction of the 
 setting sun. In the dim distance there could still be 
 discerned the long line of sandy beach, girt with its 
 waving cocoa-nut palms, the curling breakers beating 
 upon the coast line, which extended as far as the eye 
 could reach, and the fishing catamarans returning 
 homewards for the night. With full hearts the little 
 party watched in silence the fast-retreating shore, 
 and as it became more and more indistinct, they 
 unconsciously raised their eyes to the tops of the hills 
 on w^hich the golden light still rested. 
 
 ** Look " exclaimed iMargaret, ''at the beautiful 
 clouds hovering about the top of that mountain ! The 
 violet, merging through mauve and crimson into gold, 
 is magnificent." 
 
 " Ah ! " replied Gordon, raising his glasses, ** That 
 is just over Adam's Peak, and almost beneath its 
 shadow lies my estate." 
 
304 CICELY IN CEYLON 
 
 The sun had ah'eady touched the water-line. They 
 watched in silence the clouds change rapidly, the 
 beautiful colours became purple tinged with gold, 
 then the purple dissolved into a dull grey mass as the 
 last ray's disappeared. Cicely shivered slightly and 
 nestled closer to Desmond. Together they watched 
 the " land of enchantment " fade into mist, and as the 
 stars peeped out faintly above them in the pale sky 
 Cicely's eyes were suffused with tears of happiness as 
 she reflected on the love and wondrous joy which that 
 momentous visit had brought her. As she turned to 
 the West, her thoughts instinctively occupied them- 
 selves in anticipating the future, and a shy, but great 
 gladness thrilled her at the picture of herself as 
 Desmond's wife. Desmond seemed to divine her 
 thoughts, for he stooped and kissed her reverently. 
 
 Cicely raised her head and smiled. In the depths 
 of her blue eyes there was an expression which comes 
 but twice in a life-time : — at the dawn of that great 
 world love, and again when, at the bidding of the 
 Angel of Death, love bids farewell to love. 
 
 The End. 
 
 -f) 
 
 THE LONUON AND NORWICH PRT-SS, Li.MITED, LONDON AND NORWICH 
 
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 IV!304193 
 
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