This it the Novel to which Mr. Joseph Conrad, Miss 
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 of 1913. 
 
 THE LURE OF THE LITTLE 
 DRUM
 
 OTHER NOVELS BY 
 MARGARET PETERSON 
 
 At 3s. 6d. net. 
 BLIND EYES. 
 JUST BECAUSE. 
 TONY BELLEW. 
 THE LOVE OF NAVARRE. 
 
 SIX PRIZE NOVELS. 
 
 1909 
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 1910 
 
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 THE LURE OF THE LITTLE DRUM. By 
 
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 Adjudicators. Mr. Joseph Conrad, Miss Mary 
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 1914 
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 ANDREW MELROSE, LTD., 
 LONDON AND NEW YORK.
 
 THE LURE OF THE 
 LITTLE DRUM 
 
 By 
 MARGARET PETERSON 
 
 Author of "Blind Eyes," "Just Because." etc. 
 
 ANDREW MELROSE, LTD. 
 LONDON & NEW YORK
 
 First Edition printed August, 1913 
 Other three Impressions in the same month 
 New Edition at zs. 6d. net, December, 1917 
 
 Sixth Impression, May, 1918 
 Seventh Impression, August, 1918 
 Eighth Impression, March, 1919 
 Cheap Edition, 2s. net, November. 1919. 
 Tenth Impression^ 3$. 6d. net, October, 1920
 
 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 DUST AND SUN 
 
 Passionate particles of dust and sun, 
 
 Run your brief race, nor ask why it is run. 
 
 We are but shadow pictures, voices, dreams ; 
 
 Perchance they make, and break us just for fun. 
 
 Richard Le Galliennc. 
 
 A DINGY small room in a back slum of Soho. The 
 one window so thickly shadowed with dust and a 
 pair of dirty curtains that the light, faint and misty as it 
 was outside, was here scarce able to penetrate at all. 
 Rain had fallen all day, now as night crept over the city 
 it still splashed and trickled on the slushy pavements, 
 down the sides and fronts of the grey smoke-blurred 
 houses. 
 
 The house in which the room was situated, grey and 
 squalid like its fellows, boasted of a French restaurant on 
 the ground floor. The " Venez Manger " was its high 
 sounding title, and indeed to the best of Madam's ability 
 the cuisine of the place seconded this invitation. Hers 
 there was always plenty to eat, the scent and savour of it 
 permeated the surrounding atmosphere, and, from eight 
 of an evening onwards, flowed out of its one narrow door 
 down the street to mix and mingle with the many othei 
 scents of Soho. 
 
 5
 
 6 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 So much tot Madam's restaurant. She herself, a stout 
 but withal briskly moving Frenchwoman, her hair done 
 into shining curls surrounding a brown face, from which 
 looked out a couple of keen bead- like eyes, superintended 
 the comings and goings of her guests downstairs from 
 behind a higher counter set in the corner of the opening 
 door. No guest arrived without a " Bon soir, Monsieur " 
 or " Madame " ; and no guest, one may be very certain of 
 that, left without paying his or her just fee. 
 
 Madam made a comfortable living out of her " Venez 
 Manger " restaurant ; perhaps something in the per- 
 suasiveness of the name of which she was justly proud 
 had something to do with its popularity. She made 
 also in the renting out of the top rooms of her establish- 
 ment to women, from whom, if luck was with her and 
 them, she could extort fabulous sums. Unfortunate 
 women, driven pitilessly from pillar to post, paying 
 willingly all the money they could raise for the privilege 
 of being allowed to rest a little while under the sanctuary, 
 one might almost say the respectability. of Madam's roof. 
 
 Sometimes, of course, such is the fate of all trades, 
 Madam made a mistake and drove a bad bargain, such for 
 instance as the present occupant of the tiny room, num- 
 ber five, on the fifth floor. In this case the woman had 
 chosen, so it would appear, to rent Madam's room for the 
 sole and express purpose of departing this life in it. 
 That in itself was annoyance sufficient to ruffle the breast 
 of any landlady, but when one took in connection with it 
 the fact that she had palpably been driven to her last 
 stand and was dying much as a rat in a hole, without 
 friends or money to purchase a landlady's friendship, the 
 case was even worse. No friends, true enough, Madam
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 7 
 
 thought bitterly, but at the same time the Miserable of 
 No. 5 had brought with her an encumbrance in the shape 
 of a young girl. Her daughter it would appear, who 
 though incapable of providing money for the rent still 
 desired to % be fed, almost claimed charity in fact, since 
 one cannot let a cat, much less a human being, starve to 
 death in one's own house. No, the case, as Madam 
 admitted to Louise, her right-hand and assistant in the 
 restaurant trade, was about as bad as it could be, a pests 
 on the fact* that she had ever taken the woman in. But 
 since she was here and so palpably dying, a certain 
 amount of charity, not altogether obliterated in a heart 
 that had once been kind, prevented Madam from ejecting 
 her unwelcome lodgers into the street. 
 
 Indeed it is to be noted to her credit, that as she some- 
 what ruefully ascended the sharp flight of stairs on this 
 dreary evening in November, and paused to knock at the 
 door of No. 5, she carried in her hand a bowl of steaming 
 soup. Her knock fell on silence and for a second or two 
 was treated with silence, then a quick light step was 
 heard and the door was opened a little, almost timidly, aa 
 if the opener feared what might greet her on the thresh- 
 old. Reassured by the sight of Madam's portly figure, 
 or perhaps tempted by the savoury steam from the soup, 
 the door was opened a little wider, disclosing a young girl, 
 who stoocl so facing Madam, one hand still on the door 
 handle blocking, so it seemed, entrance or sight into the 
 room. The dim light of the one gas jet in the passage 
 flickered as the draught from the door shook it ; the girl's 
 features and form were hardly distinguishable from the 
 surrounding gloom, only her face showed white and het 
 hair wae visibly startiingly golden.
 
 8 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 " What do yon want ? " she asked, her voice stiff and 
 unapproachable. 
 
 " I have brought some broth for the mother," Madam 
 explained brusquely. It was another of her grievances 
 that this slim slip of a girl showed no gratitude, only a 
 proud dislike of her surroundings. " How is it with her 
 this evening ? " 
 
 The girl moved slightly ; it appeared as if she released 
 for a moment from her stiff on-guard attitude. Perhaps 
 she had expected something different from Madam's visit ; 
 just lately she had grown woefully acquainted with how 
 best to repulse a natural request for payment from the 
 people with whom they lodged. 
 
 " She is a little better, I think/' she answered 
 Madam's question. " Just now she seems to sleep. 
 It is kind of you to have thought of her." 
 
 She moved a little from the door ; it was scarcely an 
 invitation to come in, but Madam took it. She stepped 
 brusquely into the room, and putting the bowl of soup 
 down on the centre table moved across to the bed in the 
 corner. A woman lay stretched full length on it, the 
 sheet pulled up to her chin, her face sideways on the 
 pillow. By the bedside was a little round table, on which 
 stood a guttering candle, the only light in the room. Its 
 jerking flame threw strange shadows on the woman's 
 face : her eyes were shut, the lips drawn back from hei 
 teeth seemed set in a curiously sardonic grin. 
 
 Madam stood looking down at her in silence ; she was 
 no stranger to Death, having seen him at close quarters 
 more than once in the course of her stormy life. With 
 this woman, for instance, it could scarcely be a matter of 
 hours now, she saw that at once. The girl had moved to
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 9 
 
 the bedside too ; she spoke now, singularly impassively, 
 as if the woman on the bed were some stranger to her. 
 
 " How do you think she is ? " she asked. " She has lain 
 like that all afternoon ; does it mean she sleeps ? " 
 
 Madam glanced up at her, she had no liking for either 
 of her guests and little pity, yet her voice tried'to be kind 
 as she answered 
 
 " It means, my girl," she said, " that the soup will be 
 of no use to her. Eat it, you, who are still young and 
 alive enough to need food." 
 
 The girl did not move. " She is dying, you mean ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 Madam shrugged her shoulders, she could make 
 nothing of this daughter, so calm, so immovable. Her 
 tone changed somewhat brutally. 
 
 " She is practically dead," she answered. " Voyons, 
 it is to me most annoying. A death in the house and all 
 the neighbours curious to know." 
 
 " I am sorry," said the girl ; still she stood stiffly while 
 Madam moved over to the window, and putting the cur- 
 tain aside, peered out into the fast deepening night. 
 
 " And you," Madam went on, turning to face the bed 
 again, " You, what will you do ? I cannot keep you 
 for ever and feed you. After she has gbne," she nodded 
 grimly at the silent figure on the bed, " you must go too, 
 find work, get money. Perhaps I can help you, you are 
 too young " she paused, her quick bead-like eyes 
 appraised the girl's face and figure, " too pretty to live on 
 charity." 
 
 Apparently some consolation to her mercenary mind 
 had been gathered from that reflection, for her voice, 
 when she continued, had won back almost to friendliness ;
 
 10 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 she came across the room and taking one of the girl's limp 
 hands in hers patted it. " But there, poor thing, to-night 
 at least we will not talk of payment. I go to fetch a 
 doctor, since, though he can do no good, it were expedient 
 he were here, and you, eat you the soup as I have said, 
 'tis a sick heart that plans on an empty stomach." 
 
 She went on that, the girl watching her departure with 
 steady unreadable eyes. Not till the Frenchwoman's 
 heavy footsteps had died away on the stairs did she move, 
 then almost automatically she went across to the table on 
 which the bowl of soup stood, and sitting down pulled it 
 towards her. 
 
 " I am hungry," she spoke to herself in a whisper, 
 " hungry, I must eat. There is nothing in me that feels 
 or cares for anything so long as I am hungry." Yet half- 
 way through the unappetising meal the sobs choked 
 her, and pushing the bowl away from her she laid her head 
 down on the table and wept unrestrainedly. 
 
 The candle-flame nickered and danced, it was burning 
 low, little white heaps of grease collecting at its base and 
 down the edges of the candlestick. The woman's face on 
 the pillow remained unchanged, only the faint flutter of 
 her breath as it came and went showing her still alive ; 
 the girl with head down on the table sobbed on hopelessly, 
 like a tired child. 
 
 Some clock outside in the neighbourhood struck nine, 
 from downstairs the rattle of china and knives and forks 
 was plainly audible, the work of the restaurant was in full 
 swing. Just as the candle, burning the more brightly as 
 its end drew near, threw up a long thin flame, the woman 
 on the bed moved, slowly, as if waking from some long 
 deep sleep, turning in the bed, stretching to her full
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 11 
 
 length, her eyes wide open staring into the room. There 
 was no bewilderment in the glance, it was as if she had 
 been for hours awake and planning something. Her 
 eyes took in the figure of the girl in their search round the 
 room and stayed there. 
 
 " Esther," she called, her voice not faint or undecided s 
 " Esther, come here. I have got such a lot to say and 
 such a short time to say it in." 
 
 The girl stood up hurriedly, brushing her hands across 
 her face, staring at her mother with frightened eyes. 
 The woman on the bed half smiled. 
 
 " You have been crying, I believe, Esther," she said ; 
 " do you know I haven't seen you do that since you first 
 grew up and learned to know a thing or two. It can't be 
 because I am dying, can it ? Come over here, anyway, I 
 want to say a few things to you, a little good advice, the 
 only good thing I have ever given you in your life." 
 
 At her mother's first half-mocking words Esther's face 
 stiffened, the iinpassiveness which Madam so much dis- 
 liked settled back on it like a mask ; she moved across, 
 however, and stood by the bed obediently. The woman 
 put out one weak hand and caught hers. 
 
 " Kneel down," she said, " you are nearei that way 
 and don't look so stiff and straight. Poor Esther, how 
 you have disapproved of me since you got to know me, 
 haven't you ? Funny that you should, too, because you 
 are very like me, hopelessly like, I should say. That is 
 what I want to talk about the room is very dark, isn't 
 it? just as well perhaps for my story." 
 
 Her voice with each disconnected sentence grew 
 weaker ; it dropped finally to a whisper. Esther knelt 
 down by the bed, putting the table a little to one side and
 
 12 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 slipping one arm under the pillow, so as to raise the 
 woman's head a little. 
 
 " Don't bother to talk, mother. I understand, and 
 indeed it is not true that I have disapproved, only some- 
 times " her voice broke, the woman put up a hand 
 
 and touched the young cheek so near her own softly. 
 
 " No, you have never understood, dear," she contra- 
 dicted, " you have only thought you did." 
 
 For a while they stayed silent ; the woman's strength 
 was ebbing rapidly, she had to use it carefully, that she 
 knew. 
 
 " You remember that letter I wrote the other day, 
 don't you, Esther ? " she asked presently. 
 
 " Yes, mother," the girl answered, " to your sister out 
 in India, you mean ; we sent it off four weeks ago." 
 
 " Yes, that was it. Four weeks ago ; the answer should 
 be here shortly. Esther, I want you to promise me that 
 when it comes you will abide by it. I want," her voice 
 gathered strength, she sat up straight, free from Esther's 
 supporting arm, " I want you to have your chance. I 
 have never given it you yet. You ought never to have 
 been born ; what is there in my life which I can hand 
 down ? every page and chapter of it is unclean and 
 soiled. But you, you, if I could lift you from it, start 
 you fair, give you your chance ? " She turned, catching 
 at her daughter's face, peering into the girl's wide, 
 startled eyes. " Promise me, promise me, I can't die and 
 leave you to be dragged further into the filth of my 
 life." 
 
 Her hold weakened, she lay back on the pillow, her 
 heart panting for life in every breath that struggled 
 backwards and forwards.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 13 
 
 " What is it you want me to do ? " asked Esther. The 
 force of her mother's tragic pleading hardly seemed to 
 have touched her, she had grown hardened to monthly 
 scenes of repentance and wild railings against life. 
 
 " I want you to go back with your aunt to India, 
 when she comes to fetch you." The woman spoke more,- 
 calmly now. " I want you to wipe me and your life 
 with me out of your memory. Or if you must remember, 
 Esther you have always been singularly incapable of 
 forgetting things let it be with just a shade of pity and 
 forgiveness. You will not understand now, I pray you 
 may never learn through your own weakness, how little 
 all that has gone to the breaking of the good in me has 
 been my fault. Will you promise me ? " 
 
 For one second Madam's fat trim figure and beady eyes 
 as she had stood saying " You are too young, too pretty," 
 flashed across Esther's mind. That perhaps swayed in 
 the balance with her mother's pleading. " I promise ! " 
 she agreed, and on that was silent, though her heart 
 clamoured to find words in which to tell her mother of 
 the love and pity that had always been there for her. 
 She felt almost as if turned to stone. 
 
 The woman on the bed, watching her, sighed, then her 
 eyes looking past her daughter's bent head caught sight 
 of the candle spluttering now to its last end, and she 
 laughed, a funny tinkling laugh, that for the moment 
 made her face almost young again. 
 
 "I am going out, Esther, just like the candle. All 
 splutter and dirty grease and then the dark." The 
 word seemed to wake some terror in her thoughts, she sat 
 up straight again, her face, fallen into awful lines of fear. 
 " The dark," she whispered, " the dark. God, how I am
 
 14 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 afraid of the dark ! God ! God ! " her voice screamed, 
 broke off, and screamed again, wild wordless fear. 
 
 Esther rose quickly to her feet, not as quickly as the 
 end came though, for with one final shrieking sob of terror 
 the woman's body lurched forward on the bed, fell side- 
 ways, one of her limp hands striking the floor, just as the 
 candle burnt low to its core, sputtered and went out. 
 
 And through the dark, somehow she never thought of 
 looking for matches and striking a light, Esther felt for 
 and found her mother's face and knew from the cold chill 
 dampness of it that she was dead.
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 " Love came ! and lo, a rainbow spanned his room. 
 He dreamt he saw the world as it should be, 
 He saw it as no other eyes might see." 
 
 GERALD HAMILTON lifted a puzzled face and 
 gazed at bis sister-in-law. His clear brown eyes,, 
 flecked bere and tbere witb green attractive eyes tbat 
 looked at you frankly and gave as they asked : truth 
 were to-day troubled and a little uncertain. His boyish 
 face was overclouded by some shadow of depression very 
 foreign to its habitually cheerful facing of life's problems. 
 Gerald Hamilton was, in fact, in love, and troubled there- 
 with. The first complaint was no uncommon one. His 
 sister-in-law, who sat opposite him now, her straight slim 
 figure comfortably settled in the depths of an armchair, a 
 piece of absolutely useless sewing in her hands, found it in 
 her heart to smile at that side of the trouble. Gerald, 
 bless the dear boy, had so often been in love. She had 
 been the recipient of so many of his for the time being 
 poignantly felt emotions. A girl had merely to be 
 young, the possessor of blue eyes, fluffy hair, and an 
 appealing expression, for Gerald to lay at once and un- 
 asked an impressionable heart at her feet. 
 
 But this time the trouble went deeper. Mr 3. Hamilton, 
 atching from behind a scrupulously inattentive exterior, 
 was conscious of that fact. Some unknown force, such 
 
 15
 
 16 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 as she had not before encountered in the boy, was awake, / 
 his puzzled frown, his shadow-flecked eyes, all gave her 
 that impression. 
 
 They sat together on either side of the fireplace in the 
 Hamiltons' cosily furnished drawing-room. The Hamil- 
 tons, wherever they were, always had everything very 
 comfortable. Just at present he happened to be Commis- 
 sioner of Police in the small hill station of Shillong, in the 
 northwest of India, but one could have imagined, judging 
 from the inside of Mrs. Hamilton's drawing-room, that 
 one had just that moment stepped from a taxicab some- 
 .where in the neighbourhood of Kensington and been 
 ushered into the dainty comfort of a bijou flat. Such was 
 Mrs. Hamilton's boast. She had to live in India, because 
 her husband's work lay out there, but as much as possible 
 almost entirely from her drawing-room did she shut 
 out the native world. Up in a hill station this was easiei 
 tp achieve than in her larger palace world of Calcutta, for 
 the climate leant itself more readily to the pretence. 
 English roses nodded in the glass vases, a small fire burnt 
 on the hearth, the glimpse of garden seen from the win- 
 dow had the freshness and greenness of an English spring. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton hated India and its people, though the 
 expression of that rarely rose beyond the surface of her 
 placid lips. After all, Jack's work and life lay here, her 
 life lay with Jack ; but none the less she hated it, had 
 shrunk from its scents and colours and hard brightness 
 ever since the day when she had stood by a hastily dug 
 grave in the heart of an Indian jungle and watched a piti- 
 fully small coffin being lowered in by unskilful native 
 hands. Her face even now, and ten years had slipped by 
 since that day, would whiten at the scent or sight of
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 17 
 
 native flowers, the jasmine, the heavy dhatura lilies. 
 Those flowers had lain in and round the small mound, the 
 memory of them hit at her heart like a blow. And so 
 she hated India, with a hatred that lessened not at all 
 because it was never voiced. 
 
 And Gerald Hamilton had discovered her secret very 
 soon after he had arrived in India to join his regiment 
 that perhaps accounted for the hesitation in his speech 
 when he next spoke. 
 
 " I am telling you about it, Marjorie," he said, 
 " because " 
 
 " Because you always bring your troubles to me," Mrs. 
 Hamilton interrupted ; she looked across at him and 
 smiled. 
 
 He answered her smile, but his eyes did not lighten ; 
 rather the trouble in them intensified. 
 " " Yes, that is one reason," he assented ; " but there is a 
 deeper one as well. It is because I know you will feel 
 like I do about the whole wretched matter."' 
 
 He rose to his feet, moving with rather clumsy fingers 
 the ornaments on the mantelpiece. Mr~s. Hamilton bent 
 her head over her sewing. 
 
 " Tell me more, Babe," she prompted gently, " I go 
 out so little, I know nothing of the scandal of the place. 
 This girl, Miss Williams, I remember meeting her. She 
 is Mrs. Bullock's niece, isn't she ? Rather an awful aunt, 
 one has to admit, but that need not affect the girl. And 
 people are not nice to her ; is that the trouble ? I suppose 
 they rather resent Mrs. Bullock trying to push her into 
 society ; you know, dear boy, the club always has drawn 
 the line at those tea-planter folk." 
 
 " That has got nothing to do with it." Young Hamil-
 
 18 The Lure of the Little Dram 
 
 ton flung himself back in his chair, and stretched out a 
 pair of beautifully besocked feet to the fire. " It is much 
 worse than that, Marjorie." 
 
 There was a moment's silence. Gerald contemplated 
 the colours of his socks, Mrs. Hamilton completed one 
 dainty tuck and started on .another. 
 
 " Do you know Ishaq Khan ? " Gerald asked present- 
 ly ; he did not lift his eyes to look at her. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton glanced up in surprise, also a faint 
 frown of annoyance stirred on her face. She knew Ishaq 
 Khan, he was part of the world she so much hated and so 
 much avoided. But not only did she know Ishaq Khan, 
 she knew of him, which is sometimes worse. Ishaq 
 Khan was a rich, comparatively young, influential native, 
 a prince moreover in his own right of the small state of 
 Bholpur. He had been sent to England early in life by 
 an ambitious old father who was anxious that his son 
 should acquire that mixture of English polish and manner 
 so dear to a certain type of native in India. Ishaq Khan 
 had done Oxford, the stamp of it was on him, in his easy 
 unaffected voice, in his polite urbane manners. But 
 behind this European polish lay the subtle native mind, 
 that curious blending which is the result of East and West 
 mixing. Vice, which is no vice in its primaeval setting, 
 but becomes so when it is embedded in the mind of an 
 Oxford trained, European planned gentleman. He had, 
 in fact, a reputation which was popular with neither the 
 European nor native community. 
 
 "If that man ever asks you to 'dance with him," 
 Mrs. Hamilton's husband had once said to her, " there 
 will be a row." 
 
 " I don't think you need have any fear of that," she
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 19 
 
 had answered quietly, and Mr. Hamilton had looked at 
 her, conscious for a second luckily he was rarely that 
 of the cold antagonism that lay behind his wife's polite 
 ignoring of the world around her. 
 
 " I know him," she said now, in answer to her brother- 
 in-law's question ; " but what has he got to do with it, 
 Gerald ? " 
 
 The young man moved restlessly, in fact he stood up 
 again, and plunging both hands in his pockets took the 
 bull by the horns, so to speak. 
 
 " He is it altogether," he said, somewhat cryptically. 
 Yet it seemed Mrs. Hamilton understood. What 
 she knew of Ishaq Khan perhaps helped her, he had 
 an unsavoury reputation where women were con- 
 cerned. 
 
 " Oh," she answered. Her head bent quickly over her 
 work, a slow flush crept into her cheeks. " I don't quite 
 see what I can do in that case, Gerald." 
 
 " That is just it, Marjorie, you can do so much if you 
 only will." The boy was well into his stride now. 
 " Don't you understand, she is so young, the girl, she does 
 not know what she is doing. She has never been in" India 
 before, what does she know of natives ? To her he is 
 something rather romantic and wonderful, she is sorry for 
 him because the rest of us snub him, I suppose. But you, 
 Marjorie, you know, you understand, can't you help her, 
 tell her, do something ? Oh, for God's sake, Marge," his 
 voice rang hoarse with the feeling that lay behind the 
 words, " help her, help her, for I love her, and she is 
 messing up the whole of her lif e while Shillong sits round 
 and watches." He moved abruptly over to the window, 
 he was very young, very much in earnest, and afraid
 
 20 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 perhaps that she should see how near he was to making a 
 fool of himself. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton laid aside her work and stood up. This 
 was a problem that had to be faced seriously and quietly. 
 There was more behind it than just one of Gerald's 
 attacks of lovesickness. As she rose, her eyes fell on a 
 large photograph that occupied a central position on the 
 mantelpiece. It was that of a small boy, chubby and 
 healthy, the picture was colour-tinted. The round pink 
 cheeks glowed, very brown eyes flecked with green 
 laughed at her. Mrs. Hamilton put two hands on the 
 mantelpiece and bent to study the picture. It was be- 
 cause those eyes, that straight frank look, were so like 
 Gerald that she loved her brother-in-law, that she had 
 always known. Bobby would have been a man very like 
 his uncle if that if always brought her up against a stone 
 wall. Yet her eyes were wonderfully soft as she stood up 
 straight again and turned to face Gerald's miserable back. 
 , " Come here, boy," she called softly, " and let us think 
 what can be done. Of course I will help ; is there any- 
 thing I wouldn't do for you ? But first and foremost, 
 can't the aunt do anything, does she take no interest in 
 the girl ? " 
 
 Gerald turned and came across the room to her, the 
 green in his eyes was perhaps a little blurred, but he had 
 succeeded in stumping up a smile. 
 
 " Mrs. Bullock," he announced somewhat definitely, 
 " is a walking idiot. She is no manner of use. And the 
 other ladies have always disliked Miss Williams, I think 
 you have noticed that." 
 
 " She is too pretty," Mrs. Hamilton nodded in agree- 
 ment, " to be really popular with the fair sex." Another
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 21 
 
 reason she held reserved at the back of her mind : what 
 was the good of hurting Gerald's feelings? 
 
 " Yes, that is it," he assented eagerly, " and it is his 
 chance, don't you see. Why, Mrs. Callum actually said to 
 me yesterday : ' I have told Mabel and Cynthia that 
 they are not to know Miss Williams in future, there are 
 some things at which one must draw the line, and flirting 
 with a native is one.' " His voice rang bitter against Mrs. 
 Callum. Mrs. Hamilton shivered slightly, she was con- 
 scious that she rather sympathized with the worthy lady. 
 Her voice, however, was steady and friendly. 
 
 " Well, I don't know the girl very well," she admitted ; 
 " but that does not sound the right way to treat her. 
 I'll see what I can do ; perhaps Jack would let me have 
 her here for a bit." 
 
 Gerald's face lit up wonderfully. " You are a brick, 
 Marjorie, it is what I was driving at," he assented 
 frankly ; " you see while she is here Ishaq Khan must 
 leave her alone, he can hardly interfere with some one 
 staying in your house." 
 
 " No," Mrs. Hamilton agreed, " I hardly think he will 
 try to. And that is agreed, I will do what I can. But, 
 Gerald, I am not sure, dear, that I want you to marry 
 the girl, even though I do not want her to make a mesa 
 of her life with Ishaq Khan." 
 
 " I would marry her to-morrow, if she would have me," 
 he answered gravely ; " but she won't, Marjorie." 
 
 His mouth was grave, his eyes serious, he seemed 
 somehow to have grown older. Mrs. Hamilton felt a 
 touch of regret, he had been so more than lovable as a 
 boy. She followed him out into the verandah and helped 
 on with his coat. Outside, in the still cool evening,
 
 22 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 his pony stood, the native sais squatting half asleep at 
 its head. A very red sun was dropping down behind the 
 far distant snows, throwing a faint red glamour over the 
 mountains and the western sky. 
 
 " Are you coming clubwards ? " Gerald asked, turning 
 on the steps to call back to her where she stood, a faint 
 white shape in the- dusk of the door. 
 
 " No," she answered slowly, " it is Jack's late night 
 to-night. I generally wait in for him, and then we are 
 both too lazy to move out again." 
 
 " I see," laughed Gerald. He swung himself into his 
 saddle and waved his hand in farewell. " Give him my 
 respects, and good-night, Marjorie," he called, as the 
 pony felt its way down the steep stony drive. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton went back to the drawing-room and 
 unfolded her work, yet she did very few stitches, her brow 
 was puckered in thought, her mind was more than a little 
 troubled over Gerald's problem. She had seen very 
 little of Miss Williams, as she had told her brother-in- 
 law, but the times that she had met her remained in her 
 thoughts like vivid pictures. Miss Williams was sur- 
 prisingly beautiful. Mrs. Hamilton had been the first to 
 admit that on the girl's arrival in Shillong. Tall and 
 slight, yet withal softly rounded in figure, she was per- 
 fect from the tips of her small finely shaped feet to the 
 last little outstanding strand of pure gold that crowned 
 her head. A dainty face, wide blue eyes shadowed by 
 long lashes, an alluring mouth, a chin faintly flushed with 
 pink thrown up by contrast with the very white neck. 
 Her eyes were full of messages, strange unfinished moods 
 that made you long to catch and know their meaning ; 
 but the small mouth was habitually silent. Miss Williams
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 23 
 
 had no small talk, it almost seemed as if the need foi 
 speech never entered her mind, her eyes did all the talk- 
 ing for her. And what did those eyes mean, what hide ? 
 
 Jack Hamilton came into the room a little later on 
 bringing a draught of fresh air and a rustling newspaper 
 with him. His wife was sitting very quiet, watching the 
 fire, it had grown by now too dark to sew. Hamilton's 
 eyes went swiftly from his wife's head to the picture on 
 the mantelpiece and back again ; his voice when he spoke 
 carried with it rather a forced effort at cheeriness. 
 
 " Feeling blue, Marjorie ? Why no lights and this 
 reverie ? " 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton looked up smiling ; she knew just the 
 journey that his thoughts had gone. 
 
 " No, I am not blue, Jack, just worried over something, 
 and I hardly noticed how dark it grew. Ring the bell for 
 tea and ligtits." 
 
 Jack gave a visible sigh of relief, also he rang the bell 
 and took his accustomed place, his back to the fire, his 
 feet apart, his paper rustling in his hands. 
 
 " What's wrong ? " he asked during the pause in which 
 soft-footed native servants padded in with tea and lights. 
 
 " I will tell you after tea," announced Mrs. Hamilton ; 
 " it has something to do with Gerald." 
 
 " That brother of mine," Jack Hamilton smiled largely 
 and accepted his teacup, " don't let that young scamp 
 worry you. In love again, I suppose." 
 
 " Yes," Mrs. Hamilton's eyes were back on the fire ; 
 " but this time it is rather serious. Jack, tell me what 
 you know about Ishaq Khan and Miss Williams." 
 
 Jack put his cup aside hastily and sat down himself 
 in the chair that had been occupied by Gerald, also he
 
 24 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 spread out his paper to act as a shield against his wife's 
 clear eyes. 
 
 " For goodness sake," he remarked strenuously 
 " don't let that foolish brother of mine drag you into 
 this. It is going to be a nasty story before it is finished." 
 
 " Yes ? " Mrs. Hamilton queried calmly. Things 
 must be bad if gossip had reached Jack's ears, he only 
 heard the most purple patches gathered from men's 
 dinners at the club. " Tell me what it is, please, none 
 the less." 
 
 " It has got nothing to do with you," Hamilton 
 remonstrated sternly; "and I shall take jolly good care 
 that it doesn't have, what is more." 
 
 " But, Jack," Mrs. Hamilton took the cup held out to 
 her," filled it and handed it back, " I am afraid it must 
 have something to do with us. Gerald loves the girl, 
 you see." 
 
 " Damn ! " said Jack rather startlingly ; he may have 
 dropped some hot tea in the region of his hand. " All the 
 more reason why we should have nothing to do with it." 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton accepted his verdict in seeming 
 obedience and sat silent for awhile. " Tell me, Jack," 
 she repeated presently, as if the former discussion had not 
 occurred. 
 
 Jack laid down the paper and gazed at her sadly, he 
 had not lived with his wife for twelve years for nothing. 
 " You know what I think of Ishaq Khan," he stated 
 firmly, " he is a native with a very vile European mind. 
 The result is bound to be unpleasant. As for the girl, 
 well, she is white, that is enough to make us sick of the 
 affair to begin with, but she is also young and probably a 
 fool. I am sorry for her in a way."
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 25 
 
 He ended his harangue and watched his wife carefully 
 * Yes," assented Mrs. Hamilton again. With one finger 
 she smoothed out the line the next tuck was to take in her 
 work. " I am thinking of asking her to stay with us for 
 a week or two." 
 
 " Good Lord, haven't I just said " 
 
 " I know, dear," Mrs. Hamilton looked across with a 
 smile that rarely failed to win the day, " still, there is 
 Gerald." 
 
 " But why the what the do you want the boy to 
 make a fool of himself and marry this girl, none of us 
 knowing in the very least who or what she is ? " 
 
 " Not exactly," admitted Mrs. Hamilton ; " but we 
 shan't be able to prevent him in any case. He is 
 curiously like you, sometimes, Jack." 
 
 The argument was silencing ; none the less he made 
 another effort. " What is the girl's aunt doing, Mrs. 
 Bullock, I mean, can't she be spoken to ? " 
 
 " I wonder ? " pondered Marjorie there was little 
 inclination to put the wonder to the test in her voice. 
 Jack realized perhaps that the argument was finished. 
 
 " Have it your own way," he grumbled, ensconcing 
 himself finally behind his paper, " only just remember 
 that I warned you, please." 
 
 So it was that Mrs. Hamilton, because 01 a certain 
 likeness between two pairs of eyes, moved out from her 
 withdrawn sanctum of life and mixed herself in the 
 scandal which was at that moment holding Shillong 
 breathless with interest. What good her efforts did 
 remains to be seen.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 "Better be silent than thy purpose tell 
 To others, and enjoin their secrecy." 
 
 FOUR, o'clock was chiming slowly and distantly 
 from the church clock next afternoon, just as Mrs. 
 Hamilton, slipping the final button of her glove into 
 place, gathered her skirts round her and walked slowly 
 down the steps of her house to the waiting rickshaw. 
 Joseph, the Hamiltons' elderly and respectable Goanese 
 butler, stood at the foot of the steps, the rickshaw rug 
 carried over his arm, waiting to tuck it round his mistress 
 when she had taken her seat. Mary Ann, the Madrasi 
 Christian ayah and the only native from whom Mrs. 
 Hamilton would willingly take personal service, followed 
 her down the stairs. She carried Mrs. Hamilton's 
 parasol, handkerchief and book, also she had an eye for 
 Joseph, though her modest face with the saree half drawn 
 across it would scarcely have led you to believe that of 
 her. The four jampannis, looking spick and span in 
 the green and white uniform, two of them in the shafts, 
 two of them at the back of the ' rickshaw, salaamed 
 respectfully and showed their white teeth in a smile of 
 welcome. The hillman, unlike his brother of the plains, 
 is a cheerful friendly mortal ; the mere good-nature of 
 his smile robs it of any hint of impudence. 
 Mrs. Hamilton settled herself back in the rickshaw, 
 
 26
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 27 
 
 alk.wed Joseph to tuck the rug round her, accepted 
 parasol, book and handkerchief from Mary Ann. " Tell 
 the sahib whea he comes in," she said to Joseph, speak- 
 ing in English (Mrs. Hamilton never unless absolutely 
 bound to spoke to the natives in Hindustani), " that 
 I have gone to the club-house this evening, and may 
 be home late. And telJ the rickshaw men to take me 
 to Callum Memsahib's house now." 
 
 Joseph repeated the order in quick Hindustani to the 
 men, a grin from four mouths answered him. With a 
 little bend forwards, and a unanimous pull and push, 
 the conveyance which has all the appearance of a 
 lightly made bath chair was ofi, jolting rather 
 down the steep path which stood for a drive to the 
 Hamiltous' house, but once on the smoothness of the 
 high road going with a swing and movement good to 
 experience. It was no weight to the four sturdy runners, 
 their brown- legs flashed and twinkled with a sound of 
 awift bare feet on the ground. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton lay back, tilting her parasol against 
 the sun. She did not open her book, though it was her 
 usual custom to read when out in the rickshaw ; it lay 
 idle on her lap, and her eyes, though they glanced from 
 side to side, scarce saw anything of the beauties round 
 them. She was as a matter of fact too deep in thought, 
 for she had started on her momentous campaign for 
 Gerald's sake, and was going to see what information 
 could be extracted from the arch enemy, Mrs. Callum. 
 The rickshaw ran on for some way down the principal 
 thoroughfare of Shillong, but presently the runners 
 turned aside from that smooth wide track up a little 
 teep ancl stony path, corresponding to the Hamiltona'
 
 28 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 front -drive. The pace slackened to a walk, the front 
 runners strained forward, pulling at the pole. Mrs. 
 Hamilton came out of her reverie with a start and noticed 
 even though her eyes refused to be pleased with the 
 effect the wonderful colouring of the pink and blue 
 hydrangeas that lined the grass bank on either side. 
 
 Mrs. Callum was at home, so a solemn-faced Mahome- 
 dan butler informed her. He held his hand over the wheel 
 of the rickshaw to protect her skirt as she stepped out, 
 then led the way up the wide shallow steps along the 
 verandah. The room into which he ushered her, in 
 contrast to the hydrangeas, bore upon it clearly and un- 
 deniably the mark of the East. It was to begin with 
 laden with furniture of a cheap wicker variety, number- 
 less dadoes and gaudily coloured hangings were strewn 
 about, brass figures and bowls shone in splendid pro- 
 fusion. The butler held a marvellous bead chic aside for 
 Mrs. Hamilton to enter, it fell behind her with a contin- 
 uous tinkling sound and Mrs. Callum, a stout rather 
 brightly coloured woman, rose from a wicker couch to 
 greet her. 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Hamilton, how sweet of you," she gushed, 
 holding out a plump moist hand much bedizened with 
 silver bangles. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton accepted the, hand, thankful for her 
 gloves, which to a certain extent warded off the moistness, 
 and moved across the room in the wake of her hostess. 
 
 " You know Mrs. Chitty, don't you ? " 
 
 A fragile, washed-out looking woman in flounced 
 white muslin smiled wanly in greeting, and Mrs. Hamilton 
 found herself a chair and sat down. Rather a strained 
 iilence held the women once the creaking of Mrs. Callum's
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 29 
 
 re-sat on couch had subsided. Mrs. Hamilton was 
 aware of the fact that she had interrupted confidences, 
 most probably on the very subject upon which she had 
 come out to gather information. Far be it from her, 
 though, to set the ball a-rolling again. Her eyes strayed 
 from her own white gloved hands' immaculateness to 
 Mrs. Callum's podgy red wrists and the silver bracelets. 
 
 Little Mrs. Chitty gathered herself together for an 
 effort. " Mrs. Callum was telling me something so thrill- 
 ing when you came in," she said ; " do go on with it, 
 Mrs. Callum, I am sure Mrs. Hamilton ought to hear." 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton Lifted mildly interrogative, eyes to Mrs. 
 Callum's dusky flush. 
 
 " It is not a nice tale," that lady owned, " still as 
 almost boss lady here, perhaps " 
 
 " Yes, do tell me," prompted Mrs. Hamilton sweetly. 
 " I haven't been to the club or heard any scandal for 
 ages." 
 
 " This is hardly scandal," Mrs. Callum settled herself a 
 little more firmly amidst loud creaks of protest from 
 the couch, " it is painfully true. I was telling Mrs. 
 Chitty as you came in about a truly trying episode that 
 overtook dear Mabel the other night." She paused 
 heavily. 
 
 " Mabel is your eldest, isn't she ? " Mrs. Hamilton put 
 in politely. 
 
 " Yes," agreed Mrs. Callum, " my eldest. Well, she 
 was staying last week down at the Bullocks' they were 
 giving a dance, you know, and Mrs. Bullock was so press- 
 ing," she hastened to explain, " dear Mabel and 
 Cynthia spent the night there. Imagine Mabel's horror 
 when on preparing for bed after the dance he was
 
 30 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 confronted in her bedroom, her bedroom, dear Mrs. 
 Hamilton, by a man ! " 
 
 Mrs. Callum paused for effect, Mrs. Chitty leant for- 
 ward with a sigh. " ^Ve had got as far as that when you 
 arrived," she remarked in an aside to Mrs. Hamilton. 
 " Do go on, Mrsi Callum, I am too thrilled for words." 
 
 " The man was a native," Mrs. Callum proceeded 
 ponderously, " and dear Mabel, even in the midst of her 
 agitation, could note that he wore the uniform of Ishaq 
 Khan. Then he salaamed, handed her a note and 
 vanished. My poor Mabel is hardly able to speak of the 
 affair yet ; as it was she took the note from the man, 
 scarce knowing what she was doing, and fainted." 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton had since the beginning of the story 
 been struggling with a smile. Dear Mabel and Cynthia, 
 nicknamed by the irreverent Gerald as Ugly and Hideous, 
 she could so clearly picture either of them in this mid- 
 night scene. Now, as Mrs. Callum's weighty words 
 drew to a conclusion, Marjorie made an effort with that 
 smile and spoke quickly to mask it. 
 
 " Was the note addressed to Mabel ? " she asked. 
 
 Mrs. Callum and the couch creaked unanimously. 
 " Most certainly not, my Mabel. No, the letter, as the 
 poor child found out when well enough to investigate, 
 was intended for Miss Williams." 
 
 The name came out vindictively. 
 
 " I always knew she was very very deep, that girl," 
 put in Mrs. Chitty, " I have never trusted her eyes." 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton rose to her feet, her love for her brother- 
 in-law was going to draw her into very deep waters, yet 
 slie had never been of those to draw back from a venture 
 once started.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 31 
 
 " It is a horrid story," she agreed, her voice Bounding 
 cooler and sweeter even than usual, " but I can hardly 
 see that it is anything against the girl. We do not know 
 what was in the letter, she most probably is as innocent 
 as " she paused for a word, " as Mabel. Good-bye, Mrs. 
 Callum, I promised to meet my brother-in-law at the 
 club, so I can't stay for tea. Good-bye, Mrs. Chitty. I 
 suppose you will both of you be noming on to the club 
 later." 
 
 The bead chic rattled to let her out, Mahomed Khan 
 showed her pompously down the steps, Mrs. Callum and 
 Mrs. Chitty stared at each other. 
 
 " I have never been able to understand Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton," the last-named lady chirped, " she is so sweet and 
 quiet, yet she sometimes says and thinks the most odd 
 things." 
 
 " As innocent as dear Mabel ! " Mrs. Callum snorted 
 under her breath. " I expect she had to put a good face 
 on it because of the ridiculous way her brother-in-law is 
 carrying on, but don't ask me to think she really thinks 
 that." 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton's rickshaw meanwhile sped down the 
 level white road towards the club. She passed several 
 other swift-running vehicles and called back a heedless 
 good-evening to the greetings she received from the 
 various occupants. Every one knew every one else in 
 Shillong, that is the advantage and at the same time the 
 limitation of a small hill station. The club is a curious 
 rambling building standing in its own gardens. There is 
 a bandstand among its various attractions, and on certain 
 afternoons society gathers in the gardens to listen to the 
 band and imbibe tea and scandal simultaneously. The
 
 32 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 club itself boasts of a dancing floor one of the best in 
 India on its ground floor, with up above a library, 
 bridge rooms and skating rink. Kinking is the standing 
 amusement in Shillong. Here after the mists have settled 
 down over the tennis courts, and it is too cold and dark 
 for any more playing or scandal talking in the gardens, 
 the beauty and fashion of Shillong transfer themselves, 
 and from 6 till 7.30 when home and dinner loom as 
 superior attractions they skate round and round to the 
 sound of enlivening waltzes and two-steps. Those who 
 are not proficient at the gentle exercise content them- 
 selves by sitting at the small tables arranged round the 
 outskirts and drink coffee, or stronger refreshment, 
 according to their taste. 
 
 Gerald Hamilton hobbled across the intervening space 
 on his skates to greet Mrs. Hamilton when she arrived. 
 
 " Top-hole seeing you here, Marjorie," he exclaimed. 
 " Are you going to skate ? " 
 
 "Not to-nigfct." His sister-in-law's eyes flitted round 
 the room till they found and rested on Miss Williams, 
 who was at the moment floating round gracefully hand- 
 in-hand with Ishaq Khan. " I'll take a table, though, if 
 you can find me one, and later on, if you are skating with 
 her," she nodded her head ever so lightly in the direction 
 of the skating .couple, " you can bring her over to talk 
 with me." 
 
 Gerald's eyes followed hers ; they grew a little stern, 
 
 " All right," he agreed, " she is skating the next tune 
 with me, I believe." 
 
 He turned and piloted her rather insecurely to a table 
 halfway down the room. Mrs. Hamilton paused now 
 and again in their progress to answer various greetr
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 33 
 
 and in the end, as Gerald carefully balanced himself into 
 a seat, a man who had been sitting by himself at a neigh- 
 bouring table rose and moved across to her. 
 
 " May I share your table, Mrs. Hamilton ? " he asked. 
 " I see you are not skating, neither am I." 
 
 " Yes, please do," Mrs. Hamilton smiled at him. She 
 rather liked little Dr. Crow, even though she knew him 
 to be none too popular with the rest of Shillong. 
 
 The intruder met Gerald's frown blankly, let fall his 
 eyeglass an affectation for which few of the men could 
 forgive him pulled up a chair, and sat down. 
 
 " And where, fair lady, have you been hiding your- 
 self ? " he asked impressively. 
 
 " I don't know why I haven't been to the club lately," 
 Mrs. Hamilton admitted, " laziness, I suppose." 
 
 " Laziness," Dr. Crow announced, he leant back in his 
 chair and crossed one knee over the other, " which in the 
 case of you, dear lady, is a form of selfishness. How 
 dark do you imagine the days are in which we do not see 
 you ? " 
 
 " That sounds like a riddle : Where was Moses when 
 the light went out ? Are you going, Gerald ? " For the 
 band, just having had an interval, struck up again with 
 " The Dollar Princess," and Gerald was trying to get 
 to his skated feet with dignity. 
 
 " Yes," he answered, " I am skating this with Miss 
 Williams." 
 
 " Don't forget to bring her across afterwards," Mrs. 
 Hamilton laid her hand for a second on his sleeve, " I 
 want to ask her something." 
 
 Gerald went ofi, and Mar j one Hamilton turned from 
 watching his well-set-up figure to find Dr. Crow's eyes, 
 
 B
 
 34 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 one of them looking large and dignified behind his 
 monocle, fixed on her. 
 
 " My dear lady," he commenced gravely, uncrossing 
 his knees and bringing his chair a little nearer hers, " that 
 young brother-in-law of yours, who by the way appears 
 not to like me, is on the verge of making a fool of him- 
 self. I wonder if you know that ? " 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton paused. Gerald, hand-in-hand with 
 Miss Williams, who was looking bewilderingly pretty in 
 some soft dress of golden brown, swung into her range of 
 vision and out again before she answered. 
 
 " He certainly wouldn't like you if he heard you at this 
 moment," she said finally ; her eyes met Dr. Crow's 
 again. 
 
 " None the less what I say is true," affirmed that 
 gentleman. His monocle fell with a click, in reality he 
 could see much better without it. " I am not given to 
 scandal, as you know, but that er, well, the young lady 
 in question, with whom he is at present skating, has of 
 late been sailing too close to the wind." 
 
 " You mean," Mrs. Hamilton leant forward a little, 
 her face flushed, " what people are saying about her and 
 Ishaq Khan " 
 
 Dr. Crow nodded, his little round face looked solemn 
 portentous. " A native, you know," he added. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton shivered ever so slightly ; it is to be 
 doubted if Dr. Crow noticed it. " Don't you think," she 
 asked, " that people are a little unkind ? And even if 
 they are right," she went on quickly, some hint of dissent 
 had shown on his face, " isn't it all of our duties to do 
 what we can to help the girl ? She is so young, she 
 doesn't understand, or know." They were the brother-
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 35 
 
 to -law's arguments; Mrs. Hamilton leant back flushed 
 and earnest. 
 
 Dr. Crow fixed in his eyeglass, spread out his hands 
 fan-wise on the table, and examined them attentively. 
 " I rather doubt," he began, then broke ofl his sentence, 
 lifting his eyes to Mrs. Hamilton's troubled face. " The 
 statement is worthy of you, dear lady. I admire it." 
 With that he apparently put the matter from him and 
 talked amiably of t,he weather and the tennis tourna- 
 ment in progress. As the band flourished to a finish of 
 the waltz, and Gerald could be seen conducting and 
 assisting Miss Williams towards their table, Dr. Crow 
 stood up. 
 
 " Good-bye, dear lady," he breathed, all deference, 
 " do not shut yourself away from us again in a hurry ; we 
 need hearts like yours to keep us human in society." 
 
 " I wonder what he really thinks of me ? " Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton thought as she rose to welcome the, young couple ; 
 then every other problem fled compared to the one that 
 faced her in Miss Williams' ever-changing, quick- 
 shadowed eyes. 
 
 The girl was different from what she had been at first, 
 something lay at the back of her blue eyes, and it was 
 something curiously blended between fear and defiance. 
 " She is afraid of something," was Mrs. Hamilton's first 
 thought, and then, " I wonder why she hates me ? " her 
 second. Apart from her eyes the girl's face had grown 
 thinner, the faint pink of cheeks and lips had faded, she 
 was almost too white, the dark shadows under her eyes 
 and in the little follows of her temples stood out in too 
 startling a contrast. Mrs. Hamilton's heart, motherly in 
 its very foundations, went out to her almost instinctively.
 
 36 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 " I asked Gerald to bring you over to me," she began at 
 once as soon as they were all seated, " I wanted so much 
 to ask you if you would care to come and stay with me 
 next week ? The I.C.S. Ball is on Wednesday, you 
 know, and the Bachelors' Ball on Friday. I thought, 
 perhaps, your aunt lives so far out, it would be less tiring 
 for you, and I should love to have you." 
 
 " It is very good of you." Just for a second Miss Wil- 
 liams lifted her eyelashes and glanced at Mrs. Hamilton. 
 " If aunt agrees I should like to come very much." 
 
 " I am glad," said Mrs. Hamilton simply. The girl is 
 not shy, she thought, just unapproachable, a little on the 
 defensive perhaps. For Gerald's sake she would make 
 another efiort. " I am sure you will be able to persuade 
 Mrs. Bullock ; she is not keen on dances herself, is she ? 
 and I know she must hate to think of the long way you 
 have to come in and out at night. So I think it is really 
 almost settled, and if I don't hear to the contrary I will 
 expect you on Monday." 
 
 " Thank you," the girl answered ; this time she did not 
 even lift her eyes. She looked up presently at Gerald, 
 though. " Will you help me back, now ? " she asked. 
 " I think the next tune is going to start." That was all ; 
 but some strange restlessness had wakened in her voice. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton stood up to say good-bye. " Till 
 Monday," she said pleasantly, trying to win a smile. 
 
 " Till Monday," the girl answered stiffly, and turned 
 and went, one hand on Gerald's arm to steady the 
 progress. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton took her departure thoughtfully, she 
 did not wait to speak with Gerald, because she could in no 
 sort of way make up her mind what to say ; but at the
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 37 
 
 door she paused to look back at the skaters. The gold 
 brown dress caught her eyes, its wearer swung out for a 
 second from the rest, doing a fine outside edge, the man 
 guiding and holding her hands was Ishaq Khan. Mrs. 
 Hamilton's mouth set a little, there was more than just 
 " for Gerald's sake " behind the battle now. Her brow 
 was frowning as the rickshaw started with a jerk, and 
 swung round the club corner down the road towards 
 home.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 i 
 
 "In tragic life, God wot, 
 No villain need be, passion spins the plot. 
 We are betrayed by what is false within." 
 
 s. 
 
 EVEN so early as 6.30 in the morning Mrs. Bullock 
 fed her fowls. She shuffled round the hen run, 
 attired in the weirdest of costumes, consisting of a faded, 
 none too clean, blue dressing-gown, held together for 
 decency's sake down the portly front by black safety- 
 pins. Her feet, overflowing with fat round the ankles, 
 were encased in a pair of heelless bedroom slippers, and 
 she walked ponderously, partly in an effort to keep the 
 aforenamed shoes from falling off, partly also because 
 her body weighed much and was slow in movement. 
 Arrayed and dressed in all her society clothes, Mrs. 
 Bullock's figure was, to say the least of it, unwieldy, but 
 seen thus in early morning deshabille it was monstrous, 
 repellent to look at. 
 
 There were, however, at this hour on this particular 
 morning, no people to see her. From the servants' houses 
 grouped together at the rear of the large white bungalow 
 came the noises of a wordy dispute, but otherwise all 
 round her stretched miles upon miles of low growing green 
 shrubland, the early morning haze, which still clung to it 
 like a veil, unbroken by movement or life of any sort. 
 
 38
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 39 
 
 Mrs. Bullock clutched her pan of sopped bread and 
 grain to her heaving chest, pushed some obstreperous hen 
 aside with one foot, and moved onwards in her round, 
 Her face, white and flabby, the skin puckering in ridgea 
 round her eyes and lying in rolls of fat under her chin, 
 would never have led one to believe that she had once 
 been beautiful. Yet there had been a time, remembered 
 now perhaps only by herself, when she had been as lithe, 
 as softly round and as graceful as her troublesome niece 
 upon whom, even while she appeared to be busy with the 
 hens, her thoughts were centred. The untidy grey wisps 
 of hair, gathered into a scraggy knot at the back of Mrs. 
 Bullock's head, had once sfyone with the same radiance as 
 that which the sun discovered on Miss Williams' head 
 whenever he rested on it. But that was old history, even 
 Mrs. Bullock hardly alluded to it in these days, and as she 
 jerked the last crumb from the breadpan and proceeded 
 to lift her fat feet wearily up the front steps of the 
 verandah, her mind was altogether fixed on a present-day 
 problem. How was she to persuade her niece to go and 
 stay with Mrs. Hamilton ? Mrs. Bullock realized it would 
 be a case of persuasion ; last night she had attempted 
 coercion, shrill abuse and loud declamatory words. 
 They had merely served to thoroughly upset herself for 
 the night, and had left the girl calm and unmoved. 
 
 " She is as obstinate as her mother was before her," the 
 stout woman's thoughts panted as she reached the level 
 of the verandah ; " no one could ever move Hilda, once 
 her minf was set." 
 
 Her thoughts turned back slowly to that Hilda of her 
 girlhood, the elder sister, who had been BO beautiful that 
 even the natives in the road stopped to look at her. Mrs.
 
 40 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 Bullock's father and mother had been what is ordinarily 
 described in Bengal as ' County Family,' meaning by that 
 white folk who had come out to India perhaps two gene- 
 rations before and had cut themselves ofi completely from 
 the Homeland. In India they lived, married and died. 
 Their children were born and brought up, lived, married 
 and died there also. Now and then the white man would 
 take a native wife, more rarely one of the daughters would 
 marry a native or Eurasian, but with inter-marriage 
 or without it they made their homes there, they were in 
 fact County Families. Such a home had been Mrs. Bul- 
 lock's. She and her sister had been the only children 
 of the first white wife ; when their mother died the father 
 married a native, the daughter of one of the families on 
 his tea plantation, and from thence onward the home had 
 rapidly degenerated. Moral sense was almost non- 
 existent in the second Mrs. Nevard, the evil of things she 
 knew much of. Yet Mrs. Bullock, the younger of the 
 two girls, had won through that troublesome time not 
 altogether badly. The level sense of the family rested 
 entirely with her, she had been anxious to improve her 
 position and she had married well. Her husband had 
 been an elderly, respectable, if somewhat sour, Scotch tea- 
 planter. He married the girl for her beauty, and he took 
 her away with him on the understanding that she should 
 have no further intercourse whatever with her family. 
 Mrs. Bullock agreed willingly, the only person she had 
 ever loved had been her sister, and that sister twelve 
 months before had taken things into her own hands and 
 r vanished, no one knew where or how. Only Mrs. Bullock 
 had had her suspicions, never voiced even after all these 
 years. Life as Mr. Bullock's wife and on hie tea plan-
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 41 
 
 tation had been hopelessly, irredeemably dull, no children 
 came to the oddly assorted pair, and by degrees the 
 monotony of it ate into a heart that had never been able 
 to rely on itself, and Mrs. Bullock sank slowly and surely 
 back to the level of the Eurasian world she had been so 
 keen to ignore. Her manners, her Life, her appearance, all 
 deteriorated, her beauty left her, she grew to be a coarse 
 native woman with a white face. Ten years after their 
 marriage Mr. Bullock died, leaving her sole owner and 
 manager of the tea plantation. There was little to do : 
 the bushes flowered and yielded their crops in due season, 
 Mrs. Bullock sat and watched from her verandah, 
 shuffled round in her dressing-gown, fed her chickens, ate 
 enormously herself. Then one day the English mail 
 brought her a letter. It was two years ago now, but Mrs. 
 Bullock, sitting and resting on a long chair in the veran- 
 dah before tackling her niece, could remember the shock 
 it had given her to receive a letter from England. The 
 servants, her confidential allies, had gathered round and 
 watched with bated breath the opening of that momen- 
 tous epistle. Till her eyes reached the faintly scrawled 
 "Hilda," Mrs. Bullock hardly believed the truth of it ; 
 then she had taken a day to consider the contents. At 
 the end of that time she summoned her headman, a tali 
 lank Eurasian who managed the business of the estates 
 for her. 
 
 " Mr. Smithson," she said, portentous with gravity, " I 
 am going home to England by the next mail." 
 
 Mr. Smithson's mouth, as was but natural, fell open 
 with astonishment. " On business," Mrs. Bullock con- 
 descended to explain. 
 
 And she had gone : the long journey to England, the
 
 42 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 sights and sounds of travel, came too late to give her 
 any enjoyment. She was a harassed, stout, bewildered 
 old lady, excessively untidy, coarse in her speech, dirty in 
 her manners. That was Miss Williams' first impression 
 of her, and it was an impression that never was erased. 
 
 Mrs. Bullock had arrived too late to see her sister, her 
 niece Esther received' her alone in a dingy, awful room in 
 a back slum of Soho. The mother had been buried the 
 week before ; Esther Williams, for so she said her name 
 was, stood alone in the world, but for Mrs. Bullock, and 
 behind her habitually silent mouth was hidden all the 
 story of her mother's life and death. She never spoke 
 of it. She has no heart in which she can feel things, Mrs. 
 Bullock mournfully decided. None the less she abided 
 loyally by her intentions, and Esther, silent, strange-eyed 
 Esther, accompanied her aunt back to India. 
 
 It had cost Mrs. Bullock more than a little discomfort, 
 though the girl hardly realized that, to come forth from 
 her shell of dirty and disreputable home-life and push her 
 way, impervious to sneers and snubs, into the society of 
 Shillong. So much she did for Esther's sake, and the 
 girl's marvellous beauty won her the way which otherwise 
 Mrs. Bullock would never have been able to achieve. 
 And the way once won, here was Esther doing her very 
 best to spoil it all. 
 
 Mrs. Bullock rose, heaved a sigh, and made her way 
 down the broad shady verandah. The house, like nearly 
 all tea plantation homesteads, was a single storied, ramb- 
 ling building, designed for coolness in the hot weather, 
 with dark wide rooms, and the aforesaid verandah to keep 
 out as much as possible the glare of the sun. All the 
 doors, there are no windows in these houses, but each
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 43 
 
 room has five or six doors opening on to the verandah, 
 were hung with green lined chics. Mrs. Bullock paused 
 outside one of these and, raising her voice in a polite effort 
 at friendliness, asked admission. 
 
 Esther's cool, level tones responded the girl had a 
 curiously attractive voice shadowed with some hint of 
 tiredness. She lay high up on the pillows of the bed 
 fronting the door, through which Mrs. Bullock announced 
 herself. The displacement of the chic to admit her 
 aunt's bulky figure let in a flood of sunshine ; it showed 
 her face flushed with sleep, her hair a tumbled mass of 
 gold, spread out on the pillows. Then Mrs. Bullock, 
 having entered, the chic fell back and soft gloom sur- 
 rounded the room again. 
 
 " Ah, you are awake, my dear ; that is good." The 
 old lady wheezed slightly and moved across, sitting on 
 the edge of the bed. Her niece for some strange reason 
 imbued her with a ridiculous sense of shyness. " And 
 you have had your tea and letters ? " 
 
 Esther's hand closed on the letter she held, another lay 
 open on her knees she had been reading it as her aunt 
 entered. " Yes," she answered, and she lifted her eyes 
 and glanced at her aunt, it was as if to say, " Do state 
 your business and begone." 
 
 Mrs. Bullock shifted a little under the glance ; she 
 would have preferred it if the girl had liked her a little, 
 she had been so more than ready to love Hilda's child. 
 
 " I have come to ask you, my dear," she began ner- 
 vously, " whether you will not, perhaps, now day is here, 
 reconsider your decision and go for this week to Mrs. 
 Hamilton. She is so important a lady, she can do more 
 for you than I or any one. I do not wish to fight, my
 
 44 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 dear ; last night was foolishness. I am an old woman and 
 get quickly angered." Her halting remarks came to a 
 full stop. Miss Williams, who till that moment had 
 been studying a fly's manoeuvres on the tea-things by 
 the bed, brought her eyes slowly on to her aunt. Their 
 depths were unreadable, her mouth certainly was not 
 smiling. 
 
 " No, we will not fight," she asserted politely. " I 
 have made up my mind to do what you wish, aunt." 
 
 Mrs. Bullock felt she was perspiring in unexpected 
 delight; she put up a handkerchief and mopped her 
 brow. But not even in such moments of excitement 
 did she offer to embrace her niece. 
 
 " You will go ? Oh, my dear, I am glad," she moved 
 heavily off the bed. " It is for your good I worry, you 
 know that ? " she asked anxiously. 
 
 " Yes, I know," the girl answered, something of the 
 reserve that had been with her in speaking to Mrs. 
 Hamilton was evident. " It is very good of you ; I am 
 grateful." 
 
 Mrs. Bullock stood looking down at her ; with the 
 little light there was in the room behind her, her un- 
 wieldy shape took on a certain dignity, it rang in her 
 voice. 
 
 " Gratitude, child ! there is no talk of that between us. 
 I loved your mother." 
 
 Then she turned and left her niece to her meditations. 
 They seemed to make the girl uncomfortable. She rose 
 presently, slipping out of bed, a slim, cool, beautiful figure 
 in the plain white nightgown. Her face, now she was 
 alone, looked strained and anxious, fright showed upper- 
 most in the eyes. The two letters she had been reading
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 45 
 
 lay on the bed in front of her, one a long, fairly closely 
 written sheet, the handwriting boyish, characteristic of 
 the bold signature, Gerald Hamilton, scrawled at the 
 bottom. The other a short note, written on vividly 
 coloured, highly scented paper, a golden crest blinking at 
 her from the corner of the sheet. 
 
 Away from him the memory, the thought of the man 
 was repugnant to her, not because he was a native, for 
 Esther Williams had been brought up in too cosmopolitan 
 a world for scruples of that sort to weigh with her. But 
 just because her training had been what it had been, she 
 knew only too well the evil, the unclean creeping evil, that 
 lay within Ishaq Khan. And just because her training 
 had been what it had been, or perhaps because of some 
 flaw in her nature, when she was with him, her senses 
 reeled under his touch, and all that was base and ignoble 
 in her poor, tainted life, rose to do him homage. 
 
 She touched his letter now, as if it was some unclean 
 thing, and kneeling by the bed buried her face in the 
 bedclothes, her form shaking with something that was not 
 tears. " Will no one, nothing help me from my own 
 self," she whispered. Almost in answer to her prayers 
 the other letter touched against her out-laid hand, and 
 Esther lifted her head, remembering the path which had 
 seemed that morning to open before her, and the resolu- 
 tion she had just confided to her aunt. Kneeling by her 
 bed she spread out Gerald's letter, and read it for the 
 second time. 
 
 " And dear," part of it ran, " it is because I love yon 
 BO that I know, even though you are far too proud to tell 
 me, that you are in need of help. Won't you let me help 
 you ! I won't bother you with what I think or feel, if you
 
 46 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 will only just rely on my strength, and power, to help 
 you, and let me know that you are so much trusting in 
 me." 
 
 It was a strange letter to have come from Gerald, it is 
 to be doubted whether any of his intimates would have 
 recognized it. 
 
 " I will let him help me," Esther decided, " he shall 
 stand beside me, and together we will win through, we 
 must win through." 
 
 Then she rose and proceeded to dress for the day. 
 Gerald's letter when dressing was finished she tucked 
 away inside her blouse. She had a feeling that so she 
 donned armour, while it lay against her heart. The 
 other" she held to a flame of the candle till it fell in little 
 scented ashes to her feet. The heat had wrought the 
 perfume into something sickening and heavy. Esther 
 was glad to push the chic aside and step out into the clear 
 sun-swept verandah. But even here a faint memory of 
 the scent clung to her, and for some reason it kept fear 
 awake in her heart. Perhaps it was because she knew 
 that even though she stepped into battle with a strong 
 partner at her side, the way to victory would be long and 
 hard, since she was fighting against her own all-powerful 
 nature.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 " Of all strange things in a strange new world, 
 
 Most strange is this : 
 Ever my lips must speak and smile 
 
 Without your kiss, 
 Ever mine eyes must see, despite 
 
 Those eyes they miss." 
 
 MRS. HAMILTON, standing in front of her long 
 glass, put the finishing touches to her hair and 
 dress before going downstairs to receive her guests. It 
 was the night of the I.C.S. Ball, and she was giving a 
 dinner party in honour of the occasion. Her grey-clad 
 figure, the soft shimmer of the satin blending and mixing 
 with the grey tulle of the tunic, reflected itself pleasantly 
 !n the mirror. She formed an altogether charming 
 picture, her husband thought, as he paused in the door- 
 way to see if she was ready on his way downstairs ; but 
 then that was a very customary thought of his. 
 
 " Well, Marjorie," he asked in passing, " how does the 
 affair progress ? Your protegee, I mean ; had any 
 trouble since she has been under our roof ? " 
 
 Rather to his surprise, for he was always proverbially 
 and placidly ignorant of troubled waters even when his 
 own bark was afloat on the ocean, his wife turned a 
 worried face to him in answer to hia half-laughed 
 question. 
 
 47
 
 48 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 " Not troubled exactly, Jack," she admitted, " only I 
 am not a bit happy about things." 
 
 " Why not ? " Jack asked ; he came a little further into 
 the room, since his wife evidently wanted to confide in 
 him. " I don't mind the girl on closer inspection, if 
 Gerald really cares for her ; he might do worse, she is 
 surprisingly beautiful." 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton turned to the dressing-table, picking up 
 her pocket-handkerchief and spraying some scent on it. 
 Jack, as she knew of old, was a dear dense thing, how was 
 she to describe to him the feeling she had towards Miss 
 Williams ? The girl had been three days in the house 
 now, three days that had appeared to Mrs. Hamilton as 
 the most uncomfortable period she had ever lived 
 through. Was she hysterical ? Jack would certainly 
 say so, or did the girl really hate her, with a depth of 
 hate very hard to fathom or understand? 
 
 " That is a ripping dress, Marjorie," Jack put in at 
 this point ; above everything else he liked his wife in 
 grey. 
 
 " Yes, dear," Mrs. Hamilton turned to him, putting 
 both hands on his shoulders, meeting his eyes earnestly. 
 " Do tell me honestly, Jack, if you have noticed that Misa 
 Williams doesn't like me ? " 
 
 Jack knew his wife as perfect, it was her very perfect- 
 ness that demanded a like standard of virtue from other 
 people, but as a lady had once said to him, " Your wife, 
 Mr. Hamilton, is like an iceberg, one needs a pickaxe to 
 get to know her." Now therefore he blinked his eyes 
 And ventured somewhat uncomfortably 
 
 " It did strike me, Marjorie, that you did not like her." 
 
 " Oh," said Mr. Hamilton, her hands fell away, sorne-
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 49 
 
 times Jack saw further and quicker than she would have 
 given him credit for. " But you don't know how I have 
 tried, Jack. Every morning, after you have got up and 
 gone out for your ride, I lie in bed and plan and plan how 
 nice I will be to her, how " 
 
 Jack interrupted, he also bent to kiss her. " Bless 
 your dear heart, wife-of-mine," he laughed, " that is just 
 what is so ' evident. I have watched those same good 
 intentions shrivel to ashes as the girl looks up at you." 
 
 " But why is it ? " Mrs. Hamilton asked somewhat 
 mournfully ; she slipped a hand on to her husband's arm 
 and together they went slowly down the stairs. 
 
 " I don't exactly know," admitted Jack thoughtfully. 
 He paused a second. " Something in you is antagonistic 
 to something in her, I suppose, like cats are to some folk." 
 He held open the drawing-room door for her, then as the 
 sound of rickshaw wheels announced the arrival of some 
 of the guests, he hurried out on to the verandah steps to 
 greet them. 
 
 " Like some folks hate cats," Mrs. Hamilton pondered 
 over his remark ; " but I don't exactly hate her. I am 
 sorry for her, and ashamed of myself, that's about it," 
 she concluded. 
 
 Miss Williams' figure, gowned in pale blue, rose from 
 the sofa near the window to greet her. The girl's face 
 had an added flush of excitement, her eyes were wide and 
 soft, rather appealing in their glance at her hostess. 
 They looked beyond Mrs. Hamilton, however, the next 
 moment, and met Gerald's, who had at that moment 
 been announced. He came in quickly, his tall figure 
 showing to advantage in his mess kit, with sleek brown 
 head and altogether well groomed appearance.
 
 50 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 He nodded good-evening to Marjorie, and made 
 straight across the room to Miss Williams ; Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton turned instinctively to watch their greeting. 
 
 " Good-evening, Miss Williams," he said, holding her 
 hand rather longer than was needful, " you have not for- 
 gotten all the dances you promised me, have you ? " 
 
 " No, I haven't forgotten," the girl answered ; she 
 raised her wonderful eyes and smiled at the boy as he 
 stood in front of her. And the smile transfigured her 
 face, lit it up, showed it younger, more gentle than its 
 customary stifE repose. 
 
 "It is no wonder Gerald loves her," thought Mrs. 
 Hamilton with a sigh, " even I should, if she smiled at 
 me like that." Then she turned to receive her other 
 guests who were being ushered in. 
 
 Eight of them sat down to dinner, two more subalterns 
 from Gerald's regiment, Dr. Crow and'a Miss Thomas a 
 girl, rather short, rather plump, mouse-coloured hair, 
 very honest brown eyes, an attractive face, not in any 
 sort of way pretty, a ready talker. She was taken into 
 dinner by Mr. Hamilton, and her cheery talk and laughter 
 kept the dinner party going, but once or twice Mrs. 
 Hamilton saw the brown eyes wander to where Gerald 
 sat entirely engrossed with his worship for Miss Williams, 
 and she was sorry for the girl. Miss Williams came out 
 during the dinner party more than Mrs. Hamilton had 
 ever known her do before, she laughed and chattered with 
 the three adoring youths, even her eyes laughed, and 
 Mrs. Hamilton had begun to think they were incapable of 
 doing that. Altogether it was a cheerful, pleasant meal. 
 Afterwards in the hall, as Marjorie waited for her rick- 
 thaw, the girls just having been sent off in their's, Gerald,
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 51 
 
 putting her cloak on for her, seized the opportunity to 
 whisper his thanks. 
 
 " You have been a brick, Mar j one ; you don't know 
 what this doesn't mean to me." 
 
 And that after all was what she was doing it for, hia 
 happiness. Mrs. Hamilton felt almost satisfied with her 
 campaign. 
 
 As part hostess at these I.C.S. Balls it was Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton's peaceful, if not very enlivening, duty to sit on the 
 raised dais at the head of the room with a succession of 
 distinguished and elderly lights of the Service. Some- 
 times she would revolve slowly and gracefully with Judge 
 BofEkins for a round or two. He was an indefatigable 
 dancer, and though his movements were slow and pon- 
 derous, and had very little to do with the time of the 
 tune, Mrs. Hamilton never quite had the heart to deny 
 him. That, and one or two dances with her husband 
 and Gerald, generally constituted the evening's exercise 
 for her. She was too big a person officially for the 
 dancing crowd of subalterns and junior civilians to even 
 think of asking her for a dance. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton's inmost heart described these functions 
 as dull, but that was not evident in the smiling attention 
 she bestowed on the heavy officials whom she had to 
 entertain. Jack danced most of the evening, and he liked 
 seeing his wife on the dais, he liked dancing with her still 
 better, only Jack was very hide-bound. His wife had 
 her duties as the wife of the Chief of Police. 
 
 Her duty dance with Judge BofEkins had just been 
 completed and she was sitting beside him on the dais 
 fanning herself and endeavouring to infuse an intent 
 expression of interest in some tale he was unfolding,
 
 52 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 when her eyes caught sight of Miss Williams' blue dress. 
 Almost mechanically she watched the sway and swing 
 of it, the girl was all music in her dancing, till with a 
 shock of distinct displeasure she recognized who the 
 partner was Ishaq Khan ! Like a flash a conversation 
 she had had with Miss Williams stirred across Mrs. 
 Hamilton's mind. 
 
 She had tried to put the case as delicately and im- 
 personally as possible. Just " Oh, by the way, Miss 
 Williams, will you think me very interfering if I ask you 
 while you are in my house not to dance with Prince Ishaq 
 Khan. You see my husband does not allow me to, and 
 that makes things a little awkward." The girl had not 
 answered, she had not even flushed, though Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton herself had grown rather pink during the effort, only 
 she had lifted her eyes and looked straight at her hostess. 
 This perhaps was her answer. The tune came to an end, 
 the couples melted away, Judge Boffkins finished his 
 story and began another* Mrs. Hamilton hardly heard 
 him, her mind was fixed on the next dance and what it 
 would bring forth. It came, and once more the blue 
 dress and Ishaq Khan floated round, faded in and out 
 of the other dancers. 
 
 For three dances in succession Mrs. Hamilton sat and 
 watched the undoing of all her plans and hopes. During 
 the fourth, which she happened to have with Dr. Crow, 
 both Miss Williams and the native prince were noticeable 
 by their absence. Dr. Crow, who had spent a busy and 
 happy evening watching and making notes on various 
 scandals, was full of delicate information to impart. 
 As a rule Mrs. Hamilton found him amusing, this even- 
 ing he noticed she was curiously unappreciative or in-
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 53 
 
 attentive, he was uncertain which. He would try her, 
 he decided, with a subject which he knew lay close to her 
 heart. 
 
 " Dear lady," he opened fire, lying back in his corner 
 of the couch, polishing absent-mindedly his eyeglass, 
 " with reference to that little matter we talked of the 
 other day at the club, have you been noticing things this 
 evening ? " 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton turned, a little frown hesitating be-, 
 tween her eyes. " It is silly of her to dance with him," 
 
 she admitted, " still " she paused, undecided in her 
 
 effort at loyalty. 
 
 " Quite so," remarked Dr. Crow ; he leant forward, a 
 touch of seriousness on his round, colourless face, " yet if 
 you ask me, it is more than silliness." 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton flushed and he saw it, going on quickly . 
 " I mean, dear lady, that if you could see her eyes when 
 she is dancing with the man, you would, I think, say with 
 me that they reminded you of the frightened eyes of a 
 bird that is being mesmerized by a snake an un- 
 pleasant sight. I wonder if you have ever seen 
 it?" 
 
 " You mean ? " Mrs. Hamilton turned and looked at 
 him. 
 
 " I mean," answered Dr. Crow, he lay back again, 
 screwing in his eyeglass, shrugging his shoulders, " just 
 that," he finished vaguely, " it is only an impression, 
 dear lady." 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton stood up abruptly, the next dance was 
 beginning. 
 
 " But this IE our dance too," Dr. Crow put in with 
 pained surprise it was their invariable practice to have
 
 54 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 two in succession, " you are surely not going to desert 
 me?" 
 
 " I must," Mrs. Hamilton answered ; he noticed 
 that she spoke rather breathlessly, " but don't you move, 
 Dr. Crow, I see my brother-in-law, he will go with me." 
 
 She had caught Gerald's attention as he was moving 
 across the room to her. Dr. Crow could know himself 
 dismissed with any one. " Since you command, dear 
 lady," he bowed, replaced his eyeglass and looked round 
 the room for a fresh victim. 
 
 " Gerald," Mrs. Hamilton explained, as she stepped 
 down from the dais and took his arm, " I have a feeling 
 something is happening; we must find her." 
 
 His mouth was firm set, his eyes were hard. " I know 
 where ttey are," he said, and led the way. 
 
 They went through the crowded ballroom, passed the 
 various couples sitting out in the verandahs, out into the 
 silence and dusk of the night. It was one of those heavy 
 scented Indian nights that always strike the European 
 mind with a strange mystery, a mist seemed to lie 
 between them and the sky world. It was not exactly 
 hot, only very airless, and from somewhere far below them 
 came the sound of life, native music borne to them from 
 the huddled bazaar. As always that persistent sound of 
 soft-beaten tom-toms brought a feeling of fear to Mrs. 
 Hamilton, she moved a little closer to Gerald. They 
 walked in silence for some distance into the gloom of 
 the surrounding club gardens. Suddenly Gerald stopped. 
 
 " Listen," he said, and Mrs. Hamilton held her breath. 
 From somewhere quite close came the sound of a woman's 
 sobbing, a hopeless hushed sound. Mrs. Hamilton could 
 feel the muscles in Gerald's arm tighten, then he spoke.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 55 
 
 " You had better go on alone," he said, " I cannot 
 trust myself." 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton nodded, and dropping his arm pushed 
 her way through the low-hanging tree branches into the 
 cleared space beyond. The girl was there, crouched on a 
 seat, her face hidden in her hands, the sobs shaking her 
 slim form. Some distance away stood Ishaq Khan, his 
 face undistinguishable in the dim light, yet Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton could fancy he was smiling. She went straight over 
 to the seat, and took the shaking form into her arms. 
 The girl's sobs came in little broken words : " I am so 
 frightened," she said over and over again. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton turned to the other watching figure. 
 "Will you go away, please? " she said, "my husband 
 will speak to you later." 
 
 The man moved across the space and stood looking 
 down at them. 
 
 " If mademoiselle," he spoke habitually with French 
 mannerisms, " bids me to go, I obey at once. For the rest 
 there is nothing to say, women are always nervous, 
 some little thing has upset Miss Williams." 
 
 All the long restrained hatred for the man's race and 
 colour rose in Mrs. Hamilton at the cool insolence of his 
 tone, she would have answered something hotly, but at 
 that moment Miss Williams herself stood up. 
 
 " I don't want you to go," she said, and she moved 
 to the man, putting up her hands to his face, " you know 
 how much I need you," she whispered. 
 
 The man's dark head stooped to hers, his arms were 
 round her, to Mrs. Hamilton it appeared as if he was 
 going to have the effrontery to kiss the girl ; she rose to 
 her feet quickly.
 
 56 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 " How dared you," she said, passionate resentment 
 and scorn sounding in her voice, " you, who are a native, 
 how dared you speak to, or touch a white girl in that 
 way." 
 
 The man, it seemed, laughed, but he stood back, push- 
 ing the girl's clinging hands from him. " You are right, 
 Mrs. Hamilton," he answered, " I am, as you say, a 
 native ; she is of your people white. Take her then, 
 and hold her, if you can." 
 
 With that he turned and disappeared into the night. 
 Miss Williams gave a little startled cry and groped for- 
 wards like one gone suddenly blind. She would have 
 fallen, as unconsciousness swept over her, had not Gerald, 
 stepping quickly into the cleared space, caught her in his 
 arms. Across her limp body they stared at each other 
 and from the far-ofl bazaar the beaten tom-tom took up 
 its throb of triumph again.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 And so, the life blood of this rose 
 Puddled with shameful knowledge flows. 
 Through leaves, no chaste hand may unclose. 
 
 Lot. Rossetti. 
 
 KLENNEL McDERMOT might have been described 
 by his friends as a solid-based, trustworthy Scot. 
 Even his enemies could hardly have gone beyond the fact 
 that he was occasionally dour, and when circumstances 
 demanded it, undeniably obstinate. Be that as it may, 
 he was undoubtedly the right man in the right place as 
 Resident of Prince Ishaq Khan's State of Bholpur, being 
 as he was self-contained, self-reliant, immovably honest 
 and loyal. He sat now in the state drawing-room of the 
 Bholpur palace, his sun topee and stick occupying a 
 humble position on the floor beside him, waiting with 
 good-humoured patience for the Prince to grant him an 
 interview. 
 
 McDermot had heard that morning, when out for his 
 solitary before breakfast drive, of Ishaq Khan's sudden 
 and unexpected return from Shillong, and though the 
 man's presence was surprising, and from past experi- 
 ence probably heralded storms, it was for once in a way 
 not unwelcome. There were one or two affairs that 
 McDennot, as British responsibility for this turbu- 
 lent State, felt it would be as well to discuss with the 
 hereditary ruler. 
 
 17
 
 58 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 The Bholpur State lies not so very many leagues dis- 
 tant from Calcutta. It is a sm.all unimportant domain, 
 very poor for the most part, little cultivated or civilized, 
 covered to a large extent by stretches of untamed jungles. 
 The town of Bholpur it is really more a village lies on 
 the outskirts of one of these stretches, a quaint sun- 
 baked spot, the low flat-roofed houses of the bazaar 
 huddling together outside the walls of the Palace. It is 
 a dirty and evil-smelling abode, the bazaar, and in- 
 habited as McDermot could painfully testify to by 
 more ruffians than many a much larger town could boast 
 of. Beyond its circle, hardly out of reach of its pestilent 
 smells, the Palace rises, stately, many-faced, white. It is 
 a splendid building set in a wonderful Eastern garden. 
 On the other side of the bazaar, and about five miles' 
 drive from the Palace, lies the English quarter. There 
 are no cantonments or barracks Government does not 
 deem Bholpur worthy of troops, the native Prince fur- 
 nishes even the Resident's bodyguard. There are three 
 European officials in Bholpur the resident, the doctor, 
 and the policeman but they do not quite sum up the 
 English community, for even in this isolated corner of 
 God's earth, the two great mission forces have estab- 
 lished centres. There is a Roman Catholic mission in 
 McDermot's day it was run and superintended by Father 
 Senart and a handful of native converts and there was 
 a Scottish mission, under the auspices of a Mr. Lyall and 
 his sister. 
 
 The Resident and the doctor lived together, not from 
 custom, but from choice, and for two reasons ; one being 
 that Dr. Brown considered his bungalow more healthy 
 for Miss Lyall than the outside shed of the mission school,
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 59 
 
 and the other being that there was a story attached to the 
 Residency which, in the eyes of Dr. Brown, made it but a 
 gloomy dwelling place for a single man. 
 
 The Resident before McDermot had been a married 
 man, that is to say that he had brought his English bride 
 with him when he took over office at Bholpur. They had 
 spent, it is to be hoped, one ideal month of honeymoon- 
 ing. Miss Lyall, anyway, could testify to the laughter 
 and happiness that had reigned during that time in the 
 Residency ; then, at the beginning of the second month, 
 the girl had sickened, and within one short week lay 
 dead. A large white cross in the centre of the Residency 
 garden bore mute witness to her age and name, for there 
 is no cemetery in Bholpur. That was tragedy enough it 
 would appear, but there was more to follow. The hus- 
 band, mad with grief, was given a year's leave and sent 
 home to recuperate by a thoughtful Government. At 
 the end of that period, but with a lapse in their thought- 
 fulness, the Government sent him back to Bholpur. It 
 was the beginning of Che hot weather ; the policeman was 
 out on a shoot, the doctor on leave ; only the missionaries 
 were there to watch the second act of the play. For a 
 week he wandered over the house where she had lived, 
 and laughed, and loved, and before his eyes always that 
 white crass stood as memory of how she had died. Then 
 one morning he shot himself, and with very pity for the 
 deed, pushing aside his scruples on the subject of suicides, 
 Lyall buried him in the same grave as his young wife. 
 
 Not that McDermot, when he succeeded, would in the 
 least have objected to living on his own in a tragedy- 
 haunted house. That was Dr. Brown's idea. McDermot 
 himself was not the sort of man to be affected by memor-
 
 60 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 ies. He was a short, thick-set man, rounding to fatness, 
 with mild red face and blue eyes, the lack of colour, 
 peculiar to Scotchmen, in hair, eyebrows and eyelashes, 
 giving him a falsely characterless expression, till the 
 glance of his eye and the straight cut line of his chin and 
 mouth caught the attention. 
 
 The room in which he sat this morning, waiting for the 
 Prince Ishaq Khan, faced on to the wide, beautiful gar- 
 dens of the Palace. It had been re-decorated and re- 
 furnished by Ishaq Khan's father, when that old gentle- 
 man had first been bitten with a craze for Europe. The 
 quaint, early Victorian ornaments, under heavy glass 
 cases, which occupied every available table and. corner, 
 were standing witnesses to his visit to England. Naked 
 marble figures of the Greek period stood here and there, 
 looking oddly out of place amongst the tawdry gilt furni- 
 ture. And, turning from this jumbled warehouse of old 
 furniture to the Jong windows, the eyes could feast 
 on the splendour of the walled-in-garden great red 
 heavy flowers, the wonders of the goldmohar, the falling 
 rain of the purple laburnum, the scented white dhatura 
 lilies. 
 
 McDermot, however, sat on one of the aforesaid gilt 
 chairs, his back sternly turned to the beauty running 
 wild outside. He had very little use for flaming Eastern 
 flowers, with their exotic scent, and the sight of the 
 Harem wall opposite brought across his mind one of the 
 unpleasant incidents which had to be discussed with the 
 Prince. 
 
 He had possessed his soul with silent patience for a full 
 half -hour before the door at the west end of the room was 
 flung open by two very splendidly attired mace bearers,
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 61 
 
 and Ishaq Khan advanced slowly into the room. He wag 
 attired to-day in the flowing white robes of a native chief, 
 and on his sleek black head he wore the heavy turban of 
 his caste, with, flaming in its centre, the great crown jewel 
 of Bholpur. Behind him walked in dignified service an 
 elderly native with flowing white beard, whom Mo- 
 Dermot recognized as the head chamberlain, and a man 
 at whose door might be laid most of the mischief of the 
 Palace. McDermot rose to greet his host. 
 
 " Good-morning, Prince," he said briskly. " I had 
 word to-day that you had returned unexpectedly, and 
 did myself the honour of calling on you at once." 
 
 Ishaq Khan lowered his eyes ; it was hardly a bow, and 
 he moved to seat himself on a cumbersome chesterfield 
 sofa that occupied one corner of the room. 
 
 " Yes," he acknowledged. The elder man had moved 
 with him and took up a standing position at the back of 
 the sofa. He was evidently to be a party to the council. 
 McDermot accepted the fact with almost a shrug of his 
 broad shoulders. 
 
 "The truth is, Prince, "he continued, re-seating himself 
 solidly in his first position, " there are one or two knotty 
 points to be discussed between us. It was providential 
 you should have come back at this moment ; I was medi- 
 tating wiring for you." He leant a little forward in the 
 chair, his strong, capable hands on his knees, his unwink- 
 ing eyes on the brown face opposite him. " There has 
 been trouble, uncommon, nasty trouble, in the bazaar this 
 last day or two. Yesterday, I was stoned when I drove 
 through in my dog-cart." 
 
 Ishaq Khan's face was immovable. " I have heard," 
 he answered, " and given orders. The offenders are to be
 
 62 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 punished." He glanced up at the man behind him, who 
 nodded acquiescence. 
 
 " Punished ? " Just a shade of impatience sounded 
 in the Scotchman's voice : " That hardly settles the ques- 
 tion. This town of yours and mine Prince, is a seeth- 
 ing hot-bed of sedition. Steps must be taken to stamp it 
 put. Punishment, what is that worth ? " 
 
 Ishaq Khan smiled, yet the humour of his thought 
 hardly altered his expression. " You make too much of 
 it, McDermot ; without doubt it was the mischievous 
 spite of school boys. The matter has been looked into, 
 I can assure you." 
 
 Perhaps the red deepened on the Resident's face. As 
 he confided to his friend, the doctor, afterwards, the one 
 thing he really would not stand was being called McDer- 
 mot by Prince Ishaq Khan. None the less, he apparently 
 dismissed that matter there. 
 
 " The other question," he went on, " is essentially pri- 
 vate ; perhaps you would rather hear it when we are quite 
 alone." 
 
 " No ! " Ishaq Khan leant back indifferently, and from 
 the midst of his snowy draperies produced a silver cigar- 
 ette! case. " Muzfat is in my full confidence," he con- 
 cluded, and McDermot having refused a cigarette, he lit 
 one for himself. 
 
 "Very well, then. I received private information 
 yesterday," McDermot went bluntly to his task, " that 
 one of the ladies of the Palace lies at this moment 
 seriously ill. Prince, this woman who sent to me in what 
 she considers her deadly peril, is, it would appear, a white 
 lady. I claim the right of at least sending the mission 
 lady doctor to visit her."
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 63 
 
 Blue eyes met black. For a moment McDermot knew he 
 was looking into hate, undying as eternity. Ishaq Khan's 
 voice when he answered, however, was suave and polite. 
 
 " I should have thought, McDermot, that you knew 
 too well the world you move in, to have made such an 
 error. What can I do here ? The harem is sacred as you 
 must know not through my wish or belief, but through 
 immemorial custom. Do you think the throne of my 
 fathers would be mine for one day after I overstepped 
 all bounds in that matter? Besides, this white 
 woman " he broke off impatiently " who brought you 
 the letter ? " he asked. 
 
 " That I cannot possibly tell you," McDermot stated 
 calmly ; " it was brought me in secret." He rose, stoop- 
 ing for his hat and stick. " I think you will re-consider 
 the matter on second thoughts, Prince. I feel within 
 my rights to insist. We are all, I fancy," he stood up 
 very straight despite his podginess, " British subjects 
 here. I shall come back at 2.30 this afternoon, and I will 
 bring with me Miss Lyall ; she is a discreet woman, and 
 clever at medicines." 
 
 Ishaq Khan stood up ; the cigarette he had been smok- 
 ing broke in his fingers, and fell ; he ground it into black- 
 ness with his feet when he moved. 
 
 " You are quite right, McDermot." He spoke 
 generously. The Scotchman looked up at him quickly : 
 " You must forgive my seeming brusqueness. By all 
 means fetch the lady doctor here ; let her do all she can ; 
 pray God she be not too late." His face worked with 
 some passion was it grief ? " This is a sorrow that lies 
 near iny heart," he went on. " Indeed, that is why I 
 returned so quickly.**
 
 64 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 He moved over to the window and stood with his back 
 to the room. 
 
 " If that is the case, Prince," McDermot put in bluntly, 
 " I am sorry to have appeared to rush in. However, we 
 will do the best we can, and I have great faith in Miss 
 Lyall." Then he turned, and the gorgeous mace bearers 
 flung open the door, salaaming as he passed. 
 
 For some time after he had left, silence reigned in the 
 room. The Prince and the old man were alone, for by a 
 wave of his hand the chamberlain had indicated to the 
 mace bearers to depart. He himself had not moved 
 from behind the sofa, and his eyes never wavered in their 
 scrutiny of his master's back. Ishaq Khan stood facing 
 the flowers. The heavy scent from them beat up against 
 his senses ; his hands restlessly worked one within the 
 other ; his eyes flamed with wild unseeing rage. Yet it 
 seemed as if he stood thus with his back to his chamber- 
 lam until the passion had to a certain extent died out. 
 Perhaps here, his English training came to the front, bid- 
 ding him control his rage and not make a fool of himself 
 before other people. 
 
 " Well." He turned to speak presently, no longer in 
 English, but in the thick soft speech of the native. " How 
 has this happened, Muzfat ; who is the traitor in my 
 Palace?" 
 
 The old gentleman salaamed gravely, and came out 
 from behind the sofa. " How should I know, my Prince ? 
 It comes without doubt from the women's quarter. Have 
 I not often warned you against having aught to do with 
 white women ? This one's term of mischief is nearly 
 finished. Praise be to Allah ; but oh ! my Prince, see that 
 you bring not another in her stead."
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 65 
 
 Ishaq Khan apparently paid no heed to the lecture; 
 his eyes looked through and beyond Muzfat. 
 
 " The woman dies, then ? " he asked. 
 
 " Even as my Lord has commanded." Muzfat's eyes 
 caught the sharp frown on the face before him. " Even 
 as Allah wills," he corrected himself ; then, with a wily 
 change of tone, " yet, before she dies, there is without 
 doubt time to find out who took the message for her." 
 
 " True." Ishaq Khan moved towards a door opposite 
 to the one at which he had first entered, and through 
 which McDermot had taken his departure : " There is still 
 that to find out. I shall see to it, and you, Muzfat, give 
 orders to admit my Resident and his lady doctor when 
 they arrive. Have them conducted with all dignity to 
 the doors of the women's quarters ; from there the woman 
 goes on alone to visit her dead sister." His voice paused 
 on the words ; once again his lips smiled, while Muzfat 
 salaamed, hia face unruffled in its calm solemnity. 
 
 The door once shut behind him, Ishaq Khan passed 
 quickly down the long stone passage out on to the terrace, 
 across a space of flaming sunshine, till he came to a low 
 door in the wall of the palace. Here he knocked twice, 
 and on its being opened to him stooped his head to enter. 
 An immense black man bowed his head in greeting. He 
 was the head eunuch, the keeper of the women's gate, and 
 Ishaq Khan stood now within the harem itself. It was 
 an attractive place to look at, paved with marble ; a 
 deep tank of vivid blue, in which a fountain played, stood, 
 in the centre ; wide, shallow steps led down to its cool- 
 ness ; big palms in pots stood at the four corners, and 
 all round the square ran the trellised verandahs of the 
 ladies quarters, Little steps leading down from them on to
 
 66 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 the marble square. At one of these front doors a group 
 of women had been sitting, running the jessamine flowers 
 and rosebuds into long wreaths, the soft murmur of their 
 voices, the tinkle of bracelets on hands and feet, blending 
 pleasantly with the patter of the fountain water. At 
 the opening of the wall gate, however, the group rose 
 hastily to their feet, and with little suppressed screams 
 and giggles fled in all directions it is not seemly to be 
 seen thus altogether, not even by the Lord of the Harem. 
 Their flowers and half made wreaths lay where they had 
 dropped them. IshaqKhan stepped over them on his 
 way into the verandahs. He went straight forward, not 
 stopping to look into any of the rooms, though all the 
 doors stood wide, until he reached a room on the 
 further side. Unlike the others, it was not open to the 
 day; a heavy green chic hung before it, and in front 
 of that crouched a ragged dirty woman of the sweeper 
 caste the only caste in India that will have anything 
 to do with death, and the final offices to the dead. She 
 shuffled aside as Ishaq Khan paused, murmuring some- 
 thing to the effect that Death was a lover who brooked no 
 rivals, but she made no motion towards stopping his entry. 
 He was in time then, he concluded, for had the occupant 
 of the room already breathed her last, it would have been 
 this old hag's duty to prevent any one from entering the 
 death-tainted atmosphere. The task that lay before him 
 was scarcely to his liking, but with a shrug of his shoulders 
 Ishaq Khan pushed aside the chic and entered. 
 
 The small room was almost completely wrapped in 
 gloom, the door, its only means of light and air, being 
 guarded by the chic. Here and there, through the green 
 folds, however, very faint rays of light managed to pierce
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 67 
 
 * 
 
 the darkness, enough to show Ishaq Khan that the 
 woman lay on a piled-up bed in the corner, her head high 
 among the pillows, her breath coming in short, broken 
 gasps. As the chic fell behind him again she lifted her- 
 self almost into a sitting position in the bed, and her 
 voice came in something like a sharp sound of fear. 
 
 Ishaq Khan moved over to her softly, and, sitting him- 
 self on the edge of the bed, took one of the restless hands 
 into his. With eyes growing accustomed to the gloom, he 
 could note the lines of death marked on the white face 
 that lay back among the pillows. 
 
 " Why, Minnie," the man's voice speaking the English 
 words was full of a drugged sweetness, " you have been 
 ill, my little white rose, and I not to know. The moment 
 I heard I hurried to your side, and Allah has answered 
 my prayer it is not too late. You will get well now." 
 
 The woman lay watching him ; only her breath rattled 
 and shook in her throat, as if fighting its way backwards 
 and forwards. \ The hand he had taken lay passive under 
 his carefully moving fingers. 
 
 " My beautiful English Rose," Ishaq Khan went on. 
 " you must not leave me ; I need you. Need your pure 
 white skin, the gold of your hair, the sky blueness of your 
 eyes. See ; I will give you back life ; feel how the blood 
 pounds to your heart at my touch." He lifted her hand, 
 setting his lips to the place where the pulse throbbed in 
 the thin wrist. 
 
 Still the woman watched. " What is it you want ? " 
 she asked at last. It was as if the words were torn from 
 her. " You have had all I had to give long ago. What is 
 there that I have left that you want to take from 
 me?"
 
 68 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 " You want to please me, as ever, is that not so ? " he 
 answered, disregarding the bitterness that lay behind her 
 words. " Then tell me the name of the person who took 
 that letter for you to the Residency." 
 
 The hand in his fluttered ; the woman's voice was 
 hardly audible. " You know ? " she whispered. 
 
 " Yes, I know," Ishaq Khan spoke quickly, " but I 
 am not angry, little white rose. The English doctor comes 
 fco-day, by my request, to see you. I would reward the 
 one who so bravely helped you in my absence, and you 
 will tell me the name, will you not ? " 
 
 The woman looked up at hips. His face was very near 
 hers as he leant over her ; her eyes were hungry, her 
 mouth a little twisted. " Oh ! the black heart of you," 
 she whispered her words hardly reached his ear " and, 
 yet " her voice gathered strength, " bend down to me," 
 she said, " take me into your arms, kiss me as you have 
 not kissed me for many months, my King, then I will 
 tell you." 
 
 To gain his ends Ishaq Khan would go far and stop at 
 naught. He gathered the woman, even as she had 
 desired, into his arms, and, stooping in the darkness, 
 pressed his mouth to hers. Yet even in that second of 
 seeming victory he knew that he had lost, for the body in 
 his arms shook with one convulsive movement and then 
 lay still, a dead weight. The woman's face, as his own 
 drew away from it, fell back on the pillows, the eyes even 
 then glazing, a thin Email trickle of blood oozing from the 
 mouth. 
 
 She had died as he kissed her. Ishaq Khan rose with a 
 loud shouted oath, because for the time being wild 
 primaeval fear was surging in his heart, and he flung the
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 69 
 
 body from him so that it fell and Jay, its white, piteous 
 face to the wall. 
 
 The crouching figure outside had heard the oath and 
 movement. She stood now in the doorway, the chio 
 upheld, so that the sun shone through the door on to the 
 silent bed. 
 
 " Ah weh ! Ah weh !" she chanted, lifting her voice in 
 the customary death wail. " The slayer has been here ; 
 the dead lie at his feet. Ah weh ! Ah weh ! " 
 
 There was a subdued stir along the terraces. The other 
 women would gather presently, to sit on their haunches 
 outside the door and wail the death chant, while the old 
 woman prepared the body for the grave. IshaqKhan 
 strode out into the square ; fear had left him, but he was 
 excessively annoyed. 
 
 " See to it," he commanded the eunuch, " that that 
 carrion worm touch not the body, but to lay it straight 
 and orderly until after the doctor mem shall have 
 visited." Then he went with swift and angry steps, and 
 the women's court settled itself down to the interesting 
 and exciting festival of wailing for the dead. 
 
 When timid little Miss Lyall, conscious of her fear, yet 
 brave in her determination, was led into the place of 
 mourning an hour or two after, all was in order. The 
 chic had^been rolled up, the bed pulled into the centre of 
 the room. Upon it, looking very calm and stately in her 
 death sleep, lay the body of what had once been known 
 as Minnie Brown. Bravely dressed in native bride's 
 finery, the gold hair in the customary heavy plaits eithei 
 side of the white face, the blue eyes closed and sealed ; 
 for if a corpse looks at you with open eyes, you are 
 bound to follow in its footsteps ere tne year be out.
 
 70 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 The mourning had finished ; the courtyard and ter- 
 races were deserted ; only the old hag, nodding after her 
 labours, crouched at the corpse's feet, while just outside 
 in the sunshine, Abdul, the eunuch, kept heavy guard. 
 Miss Lyall, as she stood by the gaudily-dressed figure on 
 the bed, was conscious of fear and disturbing mystery. 
 What did it all mean, and what other tragedies lay hidden 
 behind those silent walls, within that sun-flecked court ? 
 Not a sign, not a sound of life ; yet she knew that all 
 around her carefully hidden eyes must be watching. 
 Then the sight of that white face moved her to something 
 else and she dropped on her knees by the bed in a flood of 
 tears. 
 
 " Oh, you poor thing, you poor thing," she sobbed ; 
 " how did it happen ; what cruel fate threw you here to 
 die ; why didn't I get to know you sooner ? " 
 
 Minnie Brown, had she been alive, might have smiled 
 
 ^pt the thought of Miss Lyall " knowing the likes of her " ; 
 
 as it was, she stayed very silent, hiding behind her closed 
 
 eyes the secrets and tortures of a life she had been so 
 
 more than glad to leave. 
 
 Miss Lyall went back presently, shaken, and with red 
 eyes,to Mr. McDermot who, with his usual solid patience, 
 was waiting for her outside the harem wall. 
 
 " Well ? " he said, as she came through the door ; but 
 he had had his answer in her face before she 
 spoke. 
 
 " She is dead," Miss Lyall whispered. She had to speak 
 in a whisper ; the mystery of the place was still clinging 
 to her. 
 
 "I thought she would be," he nodded. 
 
 " Have you anything else to tell me ? " he asked, but
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 71 
 
 that was not till after he had assisted her into the dog- 
 cart and they had started on their way home. 
 
 Miss Lyall turned to him, her rather pathetic bundle 
 of tracts which she had taken with her to console the 
 dying, strained to her thin figure, her eyes wide on hia 
 face. " Oh, Mr. McDermot, she was white, as white as 
 you and I are, and her poor face, her poor body, so decked 
 in heathen clothes. What does it mean ; how can it have 
 happened ? " 
 
 " I don't know, my dear lady," McDermot put a re- 
 assuring hand on hers, " anI don't suppose we ever 
 shall know. Poor woman, she sold her body into bon- 
 dage, without a doubt, but since she is dead, we must let 
 her rest in peace. It is not a matter that the Government 
 would care to fight over." 
 
 And that last remark he made, despite the fact that the 
 woman in the letter which she had sent him had said : 
 " Save me, for they are poisoning me to death slowly.'* 
 McDermot had not been Resident of Bholpur for four 
 years, without having learnt the wisdom of when and 
 where to hold his tongue.
 
 CHAPTEE VT 
 
 (We called her the woman who didn't care) 
 But the fool he called her his lady fair : 
 Even as you and I. 
 
 Rudyard Kipling. 
 
 AND while Minnie Brown and her fate were occu- 
 pying the minds of the people in Bholpur, life 
 moved forward in Shillong. 
 
 Ishaq Khan had vanished for the time being, back, it 
 was to be presumed, to his own native underworld. Jack 
 Hamilton for one was truly grateful for the fact, as he con- 
 fided to his wife the day after the I.C.S. Ball it would 
 have been very inconvenient to have had to fight with 
 the man publicly. Such a course would have been 
 neither diplomatic, nor in accordance with the tenets of 
 the Government. Miss Williams, as soon as she was 
 well enough to move, returned to Mrs. Bullock and the 
 calm solitudes of the tea plantations. She was quiet 
 and subdued outwardly, for a week's fever and her 
 temperature had run very high had sapped the strength 
 from her, but inwardly she 5 was full of a wild seething re- 
 sentment at what she considered the interference of Mrs. 
 Hamilton. Did she love Prince Ishaq'Khan, or was it 
 merely an insatiable desire for excitement, for sensa- 
 tions ? She only knew that the whole of her body and 
 oul ached with something that amounted to almost 
 physical anguish for the sound of his voice, the cool touch 
 
 72
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 73 
 
 of his hands about her. It had been the same force, 
 purposeless and unreasoning, that had driven her mother 
 so far and so hopelessly down into the dregs of life, leav- 
 ing her at the last, spent and broken, to die in the gutter. 
 To that memory, for the time being, Esther shut her 
 eyes, and she stood with her back to the wall, very much 
 as some wild animal might, fighting out the battle of 
 fright and desire in her own heart, and hating passion- 
 ately the hands held out to help her, the kindly curious 
 eyes. 
 
 Mrs. Bullock apparently remained oblivious of the 
 storm which had swept so near ; at least, she said nothing 
 of past events to the girl. She had never understood, or 
 attempted to understand, Esther ; she only realized that 
 the girl was perilously like her mother, and Mrs. Bul- 
 lock's one earnest desire was to get her safely and secure- 
 ly married. For that end she would frequently don her 
 best purple velvet, a peculiarly unbecoming and heating 
 costume, and wait on the verandah to waylay young 
 Hamilton when he called, as he very often did, to take 
 Miss Williams for a ride, or a walk, or to escort her to the 
 club. 
 
 " Oh, my, Mr. Hamilton," she would breathe, her 
 greeting very rarely varied, holding his hand in a moist 
 embrace, " it is good of you to take such trouble for just 
 a sulky girl. But you pay no attention to her little ways, 
 eh ? I know her ; I was myself like that as a girl." 
 
 Gerald would release his hand as soon as possible, and 
 smile vaguely. He was dimly aware of resenting the 
 fact that this coarse, purple clad figure should imagine 
 he had ever been in the least like Esther. She was cer- 
 teinly, if he stopped to think of it, not a reassuring model
 
 74 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 for the girl to be built on. But he did not stop to think, 
 nor would he. Mrs. Hamilton herself was slowly being 
 driven to realize that fact. 
 
 She talked it over with him one day, about a month 
 after Miss Williams had returned to the tea plantation. 
 They were sitting, as on the day when the subject had 
 first been opened between them, either side of the fire 
 in the Hamiltons' drawing-room. Jack had withdrawn 
 to his study as soon as he observed which way the con- 
 versation was going to turn. He had already tackled 
 his young brother on the subject, to be met with a resis- 
 tance which he was quick to realize was undefeatable. 
 Still, he would let Marjorie make her effort, and Mrs. 
 Hamilton made it. She talked gently and seriously to 
 the boy. She told him of her baby, of Bob, of the plans 
 and hopes that had been laid aside with him in that 
 desolate jungle grave. 
 
 " You are so like him, Gerald," she ended, kneeling in 
 front of the fire to stir it to a keener blaze. " He would 
 have been the same as you if he had grown up. That is 
 
 why Oh, Gerald," she turned to him putting her 
 
 hands on his knees, " I cannot bear that you should 
 spoil your life in any way. And this girl No, Ger- 
 ald," as the man moved restlessly, " honestly, I am not 
 going to say anything against her, only, she isn't, really 
 she isn't, the girl you ought to marry. Women see fur- 
 ther than men perhaps in these matters. I know as 
 well as I know my own heart that she does not love 
 you, never will love you, not -even if she marries you 
 and then, least of all." 
 
 Gerald put her hands' aside rather stiffly and 
 stood up. "It is no use, Marjorie," he said. His voice
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 75 
 
 sounded blunt, because he hated to hurt her. " I have 
 argued the matter over with Jack before this. If the 
 two of you old dears as you are came to me to-morrow 
 and said she was a leper, or any other loathsome thing 
 you could imagine, I should still marry her. And I will 
 make her love me ; I know I can." He moved a little im- 
 patiently into the middle of the room, and stood looking 
 down at his sister-in-law where she knelt, eyes back on 
 the fire. " Do you think," he continued, " that I don't 
 see, don't understand what you are frightened of. Love 
 has not made me quite blind. Often, when I have been 
 with her, I have felt her shrink from me, known she al- 
 most hated me, because from somewhere near, a native 
 has spoken, or down in the bazaar those damned tom- 
 toms have elected to start playing. But do you think 
 my love is weaker than his hellish influence, whatever 
 it is, can be ? I shall win her, I know, and I shall take 
 her home for a bit before we settle down out here, and 
 she shall learn to forget." His voice almost rang with 
 triumph. " I will ask her again this evening, Marjorie," 
 he went on, coming back to the fiie, dropping into the 
 chair beside her, " and if I win I have a sort of feeling 
 that I shall to-day I will bring her back here with me. 
 And you, Marjorie, you will be good to her, make her 
 feel that we are all going to stand by her. She minds 
 what you think of her ever so much." 
 
 " Does she ? " Mrs. Hamilton doubted, but she turned 
 and put her hands in his. " Of course, dear, we will be 
 nice to her, only I wish " 
 
 " No, don't wish that," he interrupted hastily. He 
 stood up again, drawing her to her feet at the same 
 time. " It is almost heresy to me." Then he pressed
 
 76 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 her hands and left her, but whether her heart was con- 
 tent with the result of her conversation is open to doubt. 
 
 Mrs. Bullock, by some curious accident, was absent 
 from her post of welcome as Gerald dismounted from 
 his pony at the foot of the bungalow steps. Instead, 
 Esther herself came listlessly down to greet him. She 
 was dressed in soft yellow muslin, bordered at hem and 
 waist with deep brown, the colour and softness of the 
 flimsy material showing up to perfection the very gold 
 of her hair, the sun-flecked light of her eyes. Gerald 
 quite honestly thought he had never seen anything so 
 lovely, and the knowledge made him hopelessly limited 
 in conversation. 
 
 " You are not going to ride then, to-day ? " was all 
 he said. 
 
 " No," she answered. Her hand stayed in his, her wide 
 yes held his brown ones. " I thought perhaps you 
 wouldn't mind. I am tired. I will go in my rickshaw, if 
 it is not too dull for you walking beside me." 
 
 w Dull for me ! " Surely her eyes had held some 
 message for his heart : " That would be the last word I 
 should use to describe it. We will go clubwards, shall 
 we ? The sais can take my beast straight up there, if 
 that is what you would like ? " 
 
 " Yes," the girl agreed carelessly ; " and when we get 
 on the level, I will walk a little." 
 
 She went back into the house to get her hat, while 
 Gerald issued directions to the sais about the pony. 
 They may have been a little muddled ; his heart was 
 pounding furiously in his throat, it seemed to him it was 
 rather hard to talk at all. He could have sung his orders 
 better, only very likely people would look upon that as
 
 f 
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 77 
 
 a sure sign of madness. But was not the long siege 
 nearly over, had not the girl's eyes held out the flag of 
 surrender that moment, as she had stood above him on 
 the steps ? 
 
 On their way to the club, Gerald, with his usual 
 blissful disregard of the rickshaw runners, put his hand 
 over Esther's as it lay on the arm of the rickshaw. To 
 Gerald a native was a native, much as a dog was 
 a dog; he paid just as much attention to their pre- 
 sence. 
 
 " You don't mind ? " he asked Esther, hope flaming 
 anew in his heart, since she left her hand there, soft and 
 quiescent to his touch. 
 
 The girl smiled at him, shaking her head. That was 
 the tragedy of it ; she did not mind. His hand, so touch- 
 ing hers, the heat of his blood near her own, meant 
 nothing, absolutely nothing to her. 
 
 To Gerald, however, it meant a lot. He walked on 
 air ; speech was unnecessary, luckily, because he could 
 not talk. They arrived at the level plateau before the 
 club just as dark was beginning to fall. Tennis enthus- 
 iasts, rackets slung over their shoulders, discussing 
 heatedly the merits and demerits of the afternoon's 
 play, were thronging down from the upper courts. 
 From below, in the tea gardens, the regimental band 
 was striking up " God Save the Bang " as a finish to the 
 afternoon's performance. All society was wending its 
 v,\iy club wards. 
 
 Gerald helped the girl from her rickshaw. " Don't 
 let us go in there," he pleaded, nodding his head in the 
 direction of the rink, " it is so crowded. Besides, you 
 said you wanted a bit of a walk ; let us go over to the
 
 78 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 sister-in-law's. I half said I would bring you to-day. 
 She will give us tea, and your rickshaw can meet us 
 there. They can go the long road round, while we cut 
 through the gardens." 
 
 " Mrs. Hamilton " Esther paused on the word, the 
 faintest nicker of annoyance passed over her mind. For 
 some reason or other she had never liked Mrs. Hamilton, 
 and sometimes she hated her. " I don't suppose she 
 wants to see me." 
 
 "Yes, but she does," Gerald argued; "do come, 
 Esther." He had not before called her by her name ; 
 his voice dropped on it as if he spoke of something holy. 
 
 The girl smiled again. " Very well," she agreed 
 finally, " since you wish it." 
 
 For the greater part of the way they walked in silence, 
 her figure swaying, so it seemed to him, beside him. He 
 had always loved her walk. The gardens were practic- 
 ally deserted here and there an ayah, gathering her 
 charges together with shrill words, passed them hurrying 
 prams and go-carts home. The hill evening mist is not 
 good for the babalog, any self-respecting ayah will 
 tell you. It was through these gardens, if a little more 
 ofi the beaten track, that Gerald had led Marjorie the 
 night they had taken the girl from Ishaq Khan. Was 
 Esther thinking of that, he wondered ; and suddenly his 
 hand closed on hers again and held it fast. They were 
 alone now ; there was nobody awake enough in the 
 gardens to watch them. 
 
 " You do mean this as an encouragement, don't 
 you ? " Gerald asked presently. " Oh, Esther, it means, 
 doesn't it, that you are going to give me the right to 
 love you, at last."
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 79 
 
 The girl stopped in her walk, and he turned to her, 
 gathering her very tenderly into his arms. 
 
 " I don't know," she whispered, and for the moment 
 her hat shaded her face completely. 
 
 " But I am taking the courage to know for you," he 
 answered, and he put his hand under her chin, tilting 
 her face up to his so that he could kiss it. 
 
 A woman's heart is often won by a kiss, taken and 
 given like this in the strange hush of twilight, with only 
 the silent stars and sleepy earth to watch the meeting. 
 
 " You would not let me kiss you, dear love " Gerald's 
 voice shook a Little " if you did not mean to take my 
 love, would you ? " 
 
 " I don't know," the girl answered again. " It meant 
 nothing to me," she added dully, but it is to be doubted 
 whether Gerald heard. What man would have, under the 
 circumstances ? 
 
 " If any man had wanted to kiss me as badly as you 
 did just then " Esther struggled with the truth a little 
 later ; they were almost at the Hamiltons' house by that 
 time " I should have let him, you know. That is the 
 way I am made." 
 
 " Then we are quite safe, dear," the boy laughed he 
 was splendidly blind to the truth of her remark, " be- 
 cause no one else will ever want to as badly as I do, and 
 you shall keep your kisses for the one who wants them 
 most." 
 
 And even then he did not realize that she had not 
 kissed him ; there is always one who holds the cheek. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton, standing up to greet them as Gerald 
 ushered Esther in, knew that hei worst fears had been 
 res- ;--:. Then Herald spoke.
 
 80 The Lure of the Littl6 Drum 
 
 " Marjorie," he broke into speech quickly, " it has all 
 worked out right. I have made Esther see things from 
 my point of view at last ; she is going to marry me." 
 
 It was Mrs. Hamilton's chance, and she missed it. 
 Words would not come, she could only stare, and it is 
 to be feared that her eyes told only too plainly the horror 
 with which she regarded this event. Esther's face 
 grew a little white, and she pushed past Gerald into the 
 room. 
 
 " Ah, I see," she said, " you have always felt like this 
 to me, cold hate behind your kindness. I am not good 
 enough for him, you think, and it is true. This much do 
 me the credit to believe." She was growing a little 
 hysterical. Gerald put out his hand to try and stop her, 
 but she pushed it away. " I have fought against his 
 will in this matter. I have spoken to him always the 
 truth. To-night I will tell him again, and before you." 
 She turned splendidly to Gerald. " Mr. Hamilton, 
 I do not love you. I have told you that often enough. 
 There is worse still I love a native. Ask Mrs. Hamilton 
 what that means to your people. If he needed me, or 
 called me, I would follow across any barrier, but, 
 
 but " Suddenly her voice choked on the words, 
 
 her figure swayed, she lifted her hands to her face and 
 broke into a passion of tears. 
 
 Gerald never hesitated. Fate was against the little 
 prayer that went up from Mrs. Hamilton's heart, that 
 surely now he would see how hopeless his idea was. 
 Instead, he just put out his arms and drew the weeping 
 figure to him, so that the sobs hushed themselves against 
 his heart. 
 
 " Dear," he whispered, and across the bent head his
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 81 
 
 eyes met his sister-in-law's, and for the moment they 
 were stern with anger. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton stole out and left them. For some 
 unexplainable reason she felt ashamed of herself. 
 
 " I am sorry, Gerald," she whispered as she passed, 
 but he did not appear to hear her.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 Take up the white man's burden 
 And reap his old reward, 
 * The blame of those ye better, 
 The hate of those ye guard. 
 
 ft. Kipling. 
 
 QEDITION, as McDermot had very truly stated to 
 Cx the prince in their interview, ran rampant through 
 the State of Bholpur. It was whispered in the 
 streets, taught in the native schools, shouted aloud at 
 mass meetings by the young hot-heads of the town. 
 Down with the British Raj, death to the English usurper 
 and tyrant, freedom and power for the Bengali. It was 
 a curiously muddled jargon talked at these meetings : 
 death, martyrdom, assassination, murder, all mixed 
 together in a rapid flow of talk. Whom would they not 
 kill, what not suffer themselves, to hurl the heel of the 
 oppressor from off the neck of their holy mother India, 
 and crush his carcase to death on her altar? 
 
 Just such a meeting, wild with hurled abuse, mad with 
 passion run riot, was being held in the wide central hall 
 of the prince's palace, a month after Ishaq Khan's 
 sudden return from Shillong. He himself was in the 
 chair at the head of the long table, for the meeting was 
 being run on well-learned English lines. The other 
 members crowded round, some sitting, some standing, 
 nil thc^r faces marked with the same feeling, the aft 
 
 82
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 89 
 
 heavy with their wild uttered oaths and threats. A 
 man, hardly more than a boy, at the opposite end of the 
 table to Ishaq Khan, was just concluding a speech. He 
 spoke well, even despite his tense excitement. 
 
 " I have been to the land that they call home, brothers, 
 and I know," he raved to the upturned heated faces, 
 "they are rotten at the backbone, these oppressors of 
 ours, there is no soundness in their hearts. London, 
 their great city, is a home crawling with misery, vice and 
 dirt. I have had white people whine to me for money 
 in their streets the same white people who out here 
 insult and overlord us, who are too holy to sit in the 
 same rooms with us, whose homes' and clubs we are not 
 allowed to pollute with our presence. I tell you " 
 
 Ishaq Khan leant forward in his chair, his clear voice 
 cutting coldly through the charged feeling of the room. 
 
 " This is all outside the mark, Ra Chandra," he inter- 
 rupted ; " it is very good, and without doubt there is 
 truth in it. But let us keep our discussions to deeds, 
 not mere ravings against insults. Let us act, not talk." 
 
 " Aye, aye act, act," the meeting broke into unani- 
 mous shouts. " That is what we would have ; who will 
 lead us that we may strike the blow ? " 
 
 Ishaq Khan, leaning back in his chair, watched and 
 listened to the tumult he had evoked with an expression 
 of wearied contempt. They bored him so, these hot 
 and wordy agitators. Not one among them was cap- 
 able of aught but words ; hatred was there, but it was 
 the shrill venom-tipped hatred of women, that contents 
 itself with sneers and abuse, not the steady hot hate of 
 man that kills and rests at killing. And yet these were 
 the only people to whom he could look fox support, to
 
 84 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 whom he could apply for help in the working out of the 
 hate which ate into his heart against the white man, 
 a hate which had started first in the days of childhood 
 when he, Ishaq Khan, had known what it was to be 
 despised and mocked at for being a native boy at the 
 big English public school to which he had been sent. 
 
 And this same hate, hidden then, had grown as the 
 boy grew, with more and more resentment for its founda- 
 tion as the child became man and still his colour lay as 
 a slur upon him. But despite his hate, Ishaq Khan 
 was not fool enough, or blind enough, not to realize 
 the true state of things around him. India, and Bhol- 
 pur in particular, bubbled with seditious talk ; the 
 papers at home in England discussed the question once 
 a week ; even the Mother of Parliaments deigned to 
 cast an eye on the progress of events, and wise heads 
 in the Home and Viceregal Government bothered their 
 minds with the matter. But there was no one who 
 knew quite so well as hate-bound Ishaq Khan how much 
 this bubble of sedition stood for. It meant nothing : 
 his tired angry eyes looking round at the heated faces 
 owned to that. The mass of the population of India 
 had heard of it only as a mad tale"; even in Calcutta, its 
 headquarters, the working and planning of it lay in the 
 hands of a few wild, educated Heaven save the mark 
 Bengali Babus, a race of hot talkers but white-livered 
 to the backbone. Here and there a bomb thrown at 
 the wrong carriage by mistake, now and again a vague 
 formless plan to shoot some official dignitary that failed 
 for some such futile reason as the pistol being too old to 
 fire, or the aim too hopelessly unsteady. And myriads 
 upon myriads of abusive threatening letters and pam-
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 85 
 
 phlets, for the Babu, as his name implies, is never so 
 happy as when writing. Here lay the fruits of this 
 much talked-of seditious movement ; Ishaq Khan could 
 weigh only too well the value of them. 
 
 He held up his hand presently for silence from the 
 meeting and stood up to address them. A stately 
 enough figure, the brown impassive face lit by such 
 hate-burned eyes. 
 
 " There is too much talk at these meetings," he began 
 slowly, " and talking leads us nowhere. Also it is 
 foolishness, and a poor form of foolishness, to throw 
 stones at the Resident's dogcart. I hear it has been 
 done again. We are not schoolboys, my brothers," 
 his words rang rather scornful, " our work lies deeper 
 than that. Are we to voice our hate with stones ? When 
 the time comes for throwing let us see that we use 
 something," his voice dropped a little, " that kills." 
 His eyes swept round the table. " But the time has 
 not yet come," he went on, and it seemed as if his own 
 words waked some fire in his heart, that pushed aside 
 the indifference, " and till it does, let us lie quiet and 
 unnoticed. Remember, that the door which waits a 
 friend swings open to the day, and that it is easier to 
 enter an open door than one which has been closed by 
 suspicion or fear. A little longer, brothers, we must 
 eat the bread of deceit, bow our head in feigned obedi- 
 ence, but, when the time comes," of a sudden the whole 
 face was alive with some passionate, deep, stirring force, 
 " we will move surely. The ground shall run with blood, 
 it will splash against our doorsteps and run in our streets. 
 Blood, blood, which runs .the same colour from those 
 cursed white bodies as from ours."
 
 86 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 The fire passed, he dropped back in his chair, a rathei 
 bored man of the world. " So, remember," he ended 
 carelessly, " our watchword for the present is peace ! " 
 
 The meeting broke up without much further discus- 
 sion, only Ra Chandra lingered after the others had gone 
 with some evident desire to argue things with his leader. 
 His was the face of a fanatic ; one comes across them in 
 all races and in all ranks. It is fanatics, religious, 
 moral, military, and socialistic, who are at the bottom 
 of all the trouble in the world. Fate gives them one 
 splendid all-engrossing theme to work out, too big, alas I 
 for earthly bodies, and in the end it drives them mad. 
 And madness lies at the other end of the scale to genius, 
 even though they touch so nearly on each other. 
 
 Such a man was Ra Chandra, tall, thin, emaciated, 
 with excitable features, and weak, thin-lipped mouth. 
 Yet there was some fineness in his face that Ishaq Khan, 
 larger, stronger made man, lacked altogether. 
 
 " It is I, Maharaja," Ra Chandra stated as the last 
 member took his departure, " who instituted the throw- 
 ing of stones in the bazaar. I do not, I must own it, 
 for here we are all free equals, quite agree with your 
 conclusion, re the door. I would not sneak in as a 
 friend, my hand is against all English folk, and whenever 
 they meet me they know it." 
 
 " Yes," agreed Ishaq Khan. He waved his companion 
 to a chair, sometimes it amused him to argue with thia 
 wild dreamer. " Not only do they know it, friend, they 
 also act upon the knowledge. You, my poor Ra Chan- 
 dra, are a suspect, I suppose, in the eyes of our busy and 
 important police ? " 
 
 " I say it with joy." Ra Chandra leant back in his
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 87 
 
 assigned chair, his eyes shining with pride. " Twice 
 during this month have I been put to the indignity of 
 having my house searched, and each time have they 
 found incriminating papers, and once a firearm with 
 which I was in the habit of practising revolver shots in 
 my backyard." 
 
 " Just so, and to what end all this ? " Ishat Khan's 
 voice rang scornful, " they look upon you, these level- 
 headed, calm Englishmen, as a child, a harmless babbler. 
 They see as well as I do," there was some bitterness 
 in the words, " that it is not men like you who are a 
 menace to their rule, you, with your revolver practice, 
 your incriminating papers and all your heroics. And 
 they leave you alone, much as they would leave a mos- 
 quito alone when searching for a snake." 
 
 " That is not true," Ra Chandra interrupted fiercely, 
 " they fear me, and with reason." 
 
 " So," Ishaq Khan dropped his eyes, flicking an 
 imaginary speck of dust off his sleeve, " their fear then 
 drives them to ignore you, else how is it you are still at 
 liberty ? " 
 
 " That is sometimes a disappointment to me," ad- 
 mitted Ra Chandra. " I would suffer for the cause. 
 Still it is a sign of weakness in that they are so lenient ; 
 they shut their eyes hoping to win us with peace ; one 
 of these days I will arise and go forth to kill, and some 
 of them, at least, will learn too late the earnestness of 
 my hate." 
 
 He stood up. Ishaq Khan watched his figure with 
 quizzical eyes. If this mad fanatic had chosen such a 
 course for himself, why should not Ishaq Khan use him 
 for his own ends. There was one small insult, above all
 
 88 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 others, he would like to pay back to the white folk, 
 the insult which had rung in Mrs. Hamilton's voice 
 when she had called to him : " How dared you, you 
 who are a native ! " 
 
 11 There is after all a certain amount ot eense in you, 
 Chandra," he said softly. The other man turned to him 
 eagerly. " It is pioneers like you who will lead the path 
 to our victory. But when you get nearer killing, see 
 that you choose the right people. There are many 
 officials here whose death will not even reach to the ears 
 of the people in England. Such a one is McDermot, 
 You must fly higher. A man like Hamilton now, the 
 next Lieutenant-Governor, so gossip has it, and a man 
 with an iron hand on our rights." 
 
 " What you say is true, Maharaja. I had thought even 
 of the Viceroy," Ra Chandra drew himself up, his thin 
 lips tightened ; " but I will think of what you have 
 said. I would give more than my life for the cause." 
 
 "And I," said Ishaq Khan. 
 
 After the other man had gone he sat on at the table, 
 his eyes gloomy with his thoughts. What should his 
 next move be ? Should he go back to Shillong and 
 resume his easy conquest over the white girl there ? 
 it was a way of hurting the pride of the English which 
 appealed to him very much or should he stay on at 
 Bholpur and stir up, govern and direct this all-impor- 
 tant seditious movement ? Here he had such feeble, 
 useless tools to work with, and there well, there passion 
 and desire for the girl herself and the wonderful white 
 and gold beauty of her weighed somewhat in the balance 
 with the idea of insulting his enemies. 
 
 He was still undecided in his mind when he made his
 
 The Lure ol the Little Drum 89 
 
 way later in the evening to the English dining-rooin, an 
 apartment which adjoined the state hall. He had 
 changed into European evening dress, for following his 
 invariable custom Ishaq Khan was giving a Saturday 
 dinner party to the English contingent of Bholpur. It 
 was a custom started in the days of his father, a dinner 
 party on Saturday, a shoot on Sunday. Usually every 
 one foregathered to his invitation, and he had grown 
 accustomed to taking Miss Lyall into dinner and listening 
 with a polite attention which nevei wearied to her 
 shyly uttered platitudes. But since her visit to the 
 harem, Miss Lyall had refused these weekly functions. 
 She worded a little note each time to the effect that she 
 regretted she was unable to accept. Ishaq Khan was a 
 little grimly amused at her stubbornness. 
 
 The doctor and McDermot were late in arriving this 
 evening, and a very desultory conversation was in pro- 
 gress between the Prince and the two priests when they 
 were announced. Lyall, a tall lanky Scotchman, with 
 reddish hair and a mournful face, had been and still was 
 visibly perturbed at his sister's persistent absence from 
 these gatherings. He had already apologized three 
 times and with three different reasons for her, while the 
 Roman Catholic father, a strangely and habitually 
 unconversational man, known to the natives because 
 of his black robe and shuffling walk as the Black Beetle, 
 sat in silence and nodded his head at stated in- 
 tervals. 
 
 The dinner party progressed much more cheerfully 
 once the other two men had arrived. Dr. Brown had 
 plenty to say and said it to some effect. There was a 
 fear of cholera in the bazaar, he wished to interest the
 
 90 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 Prince on the question of drains, which he succeeded in 
 doing, until the third course had been handed round. 
 Then rather a weighty silence fell, which McDermot 
 broke by an abrupt proposition. So far he had spoken 
 very little, and he had made countless bread pills with 
 his strong fingers, a sure sign that something was puzzling 
 his brain. 
 
 " You won't be going back to Shillong for a month 
 or two, will you, Prince ? Now I have got you here 
 there are so many things I am anxious you should look 
 into," he said. 
 
 " I had scarce made up my mind," Ishaq Khan paused, 
 his eyes met the Resident's for a moment ; " you see I 
 left suddenly, the season is still in full swing. Bholpur 
 is not amusing." 
 
 " Faith it is not," agreed the doctor ; " here have I, 
 McDermot, Lyall, and the policewallah who is away 
 on leave at the present, lucky devil been playing a 
 foursome of tennis every afternoon of our lives for the 
 past three months. No one to watch us even, since Miss 
 Lyall has discovered that it is a waste of time." 
 
 " No, it is not lively," assented McDermot, " but on 
 the other hand it is work, Prince, ours and well, yours. 
 Besides," another little bread pill formed and was 
 flicked aside, " the season that you speak of is almost 
 over, as a matter of fact. I had a letter from the Hainil- 
 tons to-day, Government moves back to headquarters 
 next week, every one will be on the move." 
 
 " So soon ? " Ishaq Khan helped himself to port and 
 passed it on. " Was there any exciting gossip from 
 Shillong ? " he asked. 
 
 McDermot looked up. " Nothing in particular," he
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 91 
 
 answered, " just engagements and marriages, the usual 
 sequel to a hill station season." 
 
 " They are dangerous places, hill stations," broke 
 in Dr. Brown. " I am always trying to persuade our 
 valuable Resident to summer there once in a way. We 
 could do with more ladies here." 
 
 " Indeed we could," agreed the Prince. " Tell us some 
 of the happy couples, McDermot. I may know some 
 of them." 
 
 The port wine had reached McDermot by now, he 
 helped himself slowly before answering. " Well," he 
 said at last, " Mrs. Hamilton's letter, as a matter of 
 fact, was practically full of her brother-in-law's affair. 
 Apparently the marriage is to take place from her house. 
 Miss Williams, I think the girl's name is. New to the 
 place, I fancy, I don't remember hearing of her before." 
 
 " Indeed," the Prince's long black fingers played 
 with the stem of his wine glass, " that is interesting 
 news to me, for I know the lady quite well, and of course 
 I have met the Hamiltons." As once before his eyes 
 met McDennot's. " And when did you say this wedding 
 was to be ? " 
 
 " To-morrow, I think, or the day after." McDermot 
 leant back in his chair to accept a cigarette from the 
 servant behind him. 
 
 " The day after, I hope," Ishaq Khan was saying, 
 " for in that case my wedding present will arrive in 
 time." He lifted his glass, drinking the wine. 
 
 " Shall we make a move into the billiard room ? " he 
 suggested a minute or two afterwards, " we are an un- 
 equal number to-night, but we can play a scratch game 
 of sorts."
 
 92 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 When his guests said good-night to him, and went 
 forth to their various carriages, the Prince held McDer- 
 mot back a moment to speak to him. 
 
 "I have made up my mind to stay, McDermot," he 
 said, " it is evidently my duty. Will you call round 
 sometime on Wednesday and we can talk of these matters 
 that you say call for my attention ? Or, I, if you would 
 prefer it, will call at the Residency ? " 
 
 " I will come here," McDermot answered, " and I am 
 glad you see your way to staying. Good-night, Prince, 
 hope we shall have good sport to-morrow." 
 
 " I also hope so, though unfortunately I shall not be 
 able to attend." He followed them out on to the 
 terrace, bowing gravely as they turned to call good- 
 night. 
 
 " I don't know whether it struck you," Dr. Brown 
 puffed at his cigar and surveyed the* road in front of 
 them, " but there is something up with our friend the 
 Prince to-night, also how he hates you." 
 
 " Does he ? " asked McDermot, a note of surprise in 
 his voice ; he flicked at the pony and the dogcart turned 
 with a little lift into the gate of the Residency compound. 
 " I know I annoy him sometimes, and once well, when 
 I interfered about that so-called wife of his I gathered 
 he didn't love me, but I don't see why he should hate 
 me." 
 
 " My good fellow," grumbled Dr. Brown, he turned 
 at the top of the bungalow steps to deliver this ulti- 
 matum, " he hates the whole bang lot of us. It is 
 my firm belief that he is a re-incarnation of Tippoo 
 Sahib, and one day we, you and I and the missionaries,, 
 will get an unpleasant surprise."
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 93 
 
 " Rot," the Resident answered graphically ; he threw 
 the pony's reins to the sais and stopped a moment 
 to relight his cigar which had gone out, " We are as 
 safe here, even if Tippoo Sahib were next door, as we 
 should be in Bond Street. Hie, Rutna, whiskey peg 
 lao." 
 
 A native bearer hurried out with tray and glasses in 
 response to his summons, Brown waited till he had 
 vanished back into the house leaving the two white 
 men alone on the verandah before he continued the 
 argument. 
 
 " I don't know," he said, " even Rutna, trusted ser- 
 vant as you would describe him, what does he feel for 
 us, hatred or love ? You never get behind their brown 
 masks of faces, and I have never met a native yet who 
 would let me see into his eyes. I don't see any reason 
 why they shouldn't hate us," he ended placidly. 
 
 " Don't you, well I do," said McDermot, " I have 
 put into my life here more than my work, as I expect 
 you know. I love them, I love the land, it is my little 
 corner of God's earth. And -some one has said some- 
 where that love begets love. Anyway," he stood up 
 rather ashamed of the depths of his feelings, "I trust 
 them, and I fancy they trust me back. Come along to 
 bed, Brown, and don't try to think of any more a^ 
 ments by which you can destroy my faith. What can 
 you know of India, you with a heart always homesick 
 for Ireland ? " 
 
 " True for you, old man," the doctor agreed ; he rose 
 laughing, " I do not put as much into this heathenish 
 country as you do ; pray God she doesn't ever fail you.*' 
 
 Brown, before he got into bed, stepped out on to the
 
 94 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 verandah again to have a final look at things, as he put 
 it. The compound lay in darkness, only the English 
 girl's grave showing up ghost-like among the shadows. 
 Great wonderful stars looked down from a purple sky. 
 Here all was quiet, wrapped so it seemed in sleep, but 
 over beyond the line of palm trees, because the night 
 was so very very still, he could hear the sound of life 
 and strife in the native bazaar, and the Prince's palace 
 stood out, a white blur against the black background. 
 Brown turned back, on either side of the verandah two 
 huddled forms perched on high stools pulled at the pun- 
 kah ropes with sleepy hands. They were the punkah 
 men who were to sit thus through the night, jerking the 
 suspended fan above the sahibs' beds. If they dropped 
 asleep they would fall off the high stools, hence the, 
 choice of such a perch, for ordinarily speaking a native 
 prefers the floor to sit on. Their forms were expres- 
 sionless, only the slow jerk of their arms backwards 
 and forwards proclaimed them alive. "V 
 
 " I wonder ! " again thought the doctor, then he turned 
 into bed and blew out the light, allowing his thoughts 
 to be lulled to sleep by the steady drone and swing of the 
 punkah overhead.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 " Is this the love she dreamed of, for whoso sake 
 
 Her heart with too much bliss or pain would break ? 
 Nay, the gods jest, when this their gift appears 
 Too dull for laughter, and too weak for tears." 
 
 ONE disturbiug incident occurred on Esther and 
 Gerald's wedding-day, otherwise it was a day of 
 glorious, radiant weather, such as one meets only in the 
 hill stations of India during a break in the rains. For 
 weeks the outside world had been shrouded in mists and 
 rain clouds, the sun had appeared, feeble and ashamed, 
 only at very rare intervals, the rain had fallen a swift con- 
 tinuous downpour till the steep roads ran great rivulets 
 of water and from every visible clifi or overhanging bank 
 miniature waterfalls splashed and gurgled. But on this 
 day the curtain of clouds split at the first ray of the sun, 
 and as he climbed slowly up the sky, his radiance reached 
 to and brightened everything. The path of heaven swept 
 clear vivid blue at his approach, his rays threw an un- 
 earthly glamour over the wide far-reaching distance of 
 the Himalayan snows, the world of hill and valley, light 
 and shade, lay spread out before him shimmering and 
 fresh washed, and down in the plains, countless riven 
 and tiny streams sparkled and shone like silver threads 
 woven by some cunning hand in and out of the patterned 
 landscape, 
 
 95
 
 96 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 The wedding took place from the Hamiltons' house, by 
 Mrs. Bullock's most earnest desire, and Mrs. Hamilton 
 herself was only too willing to agree to it. Ever since 
 that evening, when so she felt it to herself, she had failed 
 Gerald, she had done her level best to fight down the 
 barrier of dislike and reserve behind which her sister-in- 
 law-to-be withdrew herself. But though the girl 
 accepted all her efforts at friendliness with apathetic 
 calm, Mrs. Hamilton as only one Woman can know of 
 another was aware that she would never now be able 
 to wipe out the impression that Esther had formed of her. 
 Outwardly all was calm friendliness, and as Mrs. Bul- 
 lock, in the one interview she had with Mrs. Hamilton 
 on the subject, pleaded almost with tears in her eyes to be 
 relieved from the exertion of the wedding, it was thus 
 arranged. Esther arrived the day before the ceremony 
 to spend the night at the Hamiltons', Mrs. Bullock ex- 
 cused- herself from even attending. 
 
 " See now, child," she said to Esther at their parting, 
 " you are going out of my life, just as you came into it. 
 You have lived with me two years, is it not so, and you 
 have never thought of me as other than a vulgar fat old 
 woman. Now wait," with a ponderous shrug of her 
 shoulders as the girl would have protested. " I am 
 vulgar, and fat, and old, but I am not a fool. And I have 
 known youi thoughts all the time, that is why I am not 
 coming to the wedding. But I have known more than 
 that too, and also I have known your mother. You have 
 never opened your mouth to me about her, and that is 
 good, for what could be said between us ? but I will tell 
 you this time so that you may understand how much I 
 knew you." She paused rather heavily on the words,
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 97 
 
 she was old and fat as she had said, and this conversation 
 woke memories she would rather have forgotten. Esther 
 pushed her chair a Little back, they were sitting out on the 
 verandah after dinner, and by this movement she was 
 without the circle of light thrown by the oil lamp swung 
 above their heads. Her face was white, her hands 
 strained together. 
 
 " Your mother was bad," Mrs. Bullock went on pon- 
 derously, " bad, all through, like only those with black 
 hearts and red blood leaping in their veins can be. Bad 
 as a child, bad as a girl, bad as a woman. But," the 
 wheezy voice gathered dignity " she was yet my sister, 
 and I loved her." 
 
 " I suppose you think you have a right to say such 
 things to me," Esther asked coldly, " because you took 
 me to live with you, because I have taken charity at your 
 hands ? " She stood up, her chair grating harshly on the 
 tiles as she pushed it back. 
 
 Mrs. Bullock rose also, the lamplight threw strange 
 shadows on her bulgy cheeks, her unwieldy figure. 
 
 " No," she did not look towards Esther, her eyes 
 wandered vaguely round the old familiar sights of hen- 
 coop and gardens seen but dimly under the starlight, 
 " it is not for any reason like that. It is because I loved 
 her, and I knew. You are to have your chance as she 
 never had hers." She turned into the house, her voice 
 sounded tired and dragged a little. " Good-night," she 
 said, " to-morrow it will be good-bye. I hope you will 
 take your chance, that is all." 
 
 So Mrs. Bullock did not come to the wedding, and Mrs. 
 Hamilton felt that even her absence, though Shillong 
 might comment upon it, was better than her presence
 
 98 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 would have been, since that would have emphasized too 
 clearly the family into which Gerald had chosen to marry. 
 
 And despite the wonderful beauty of the day itself, 
 Mrs. Hamilton found herself dressing for the occasion in 
 an uneasy frame of mind. Presentiment, she would have 
 called it if she had been Scotch ; as it was, Mary Ann, 
 during the intricacies of fastening her mistress' dress, 
 voiced the matter. 
 
 " It is a day of ill omen, memsahib," she remarked pre- 
 sently, " all the servant folk have spoken of it." 
 
 Now why one's feelings spoken aloud by some one else 
 should be so annoying, it would be hard to say. Mrs. 
 Hamilton was angry. 
 
 " You should not say those kind of things,- Mary," she 
 reproved sharply. " What business have you and the 
 servants to discuss anything, I should like to know ? " 
 
 Mary Ann smoothed her face to an even more meaning- 
 less expression of amiability. 
 
 " None, memsahib," she hastened to agree, settling 
 the long smooth grey folds of Mrs. Hamilton's dress, 
 " only the missahib's ayah says there have been many 
 tears shed in the night. To-day the bride goes heavily ; 
 that is not good for the bridegroom." 
 
 She unobtrusively produced a pair of grey gloves and 
 handed them to her mistress. 
 
 " The missahib's ayah should have known better than 
 to repeat such things." Mrs. Hamilton was still visibly 
 annoyed, and she swept from the room. 
 
 Downstairs, outside Miss Williams' room, she paused in 
 some trepidation, her hand on the door. How would the 
 girl receive her ? had there really been, many tears shed in 
 the night ? With a little movement of her shoulders, as
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 99 
 
 if setting aside trouble, she pushed open the door and 
 entered. 
 
 Esther stood facing her. From the last strand of gold 
 that shone in the hair under her veil, to the tip of one 
 satin shoe a little thrust forward, she was beautiful, with 
 a beauty that for a second took the other woman's breath 
 away. Her dress, soft clinging satin, caught here a 
 light, there a shade from every faint movement of her 
 breath. Mrs. Hamilton took a little step towards her. 
 holding out her hands. " My dear," she whispered, " you 
 beautiful, beautiful thing." 
 
 Then it was that she noticed how straight and stiff the 
 bride-clad figure stood, with hands clenched at her side, 
 and wide, fear-haunted eyes, that strove to tell and yet 
 to hide their fear. At her feet lay a half-open parcel, it 
 seemed as if the contents had been examined and then 
 dropped back into their wrappings, and so bundled to the 
 floor. Mrs. Hamilton, because for the second she was at 
 a loss for words, stooped to the parcel and picked it 
 up. 
 
 " Another wedding present ? " she asked, her voice 
 shook a little. " Little late in arriving, isn't it ? " 
 
 The girl did not answer. Mrs. Hamilton heard her take 
 a sharp breath and turn away ; for herself, her eyes were 
 fixed on the gift that lay, now the paper had been removed 
 from it, in her hand. It was surely a curious wedding 
 present, just a little imitation native drum, the kind that 
 the drummers hold and play on lazily with sinuous long 
 fingers, while the dancing girls move, beckon and sway, 
 in the circle of onlookers. The thing, despite its dainty 
 finish, its gold and jewelled setting, was oddly repulsive ; 
 instinctively Mrs. Hamilton dropped it, holding her hands
 
 100 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 away from her as 'if they had touched on something 
 unclean. 
 
 " What is it ? " she asked, " who sent it to you ? " 
 
 The girl turned to face her again, but her eyes now were 
 expressionless. 
 
 " Jfdon't know," she answered carelessly ; " but I think 
 it is rather quaint, don't you ? " 
 
 " I think it is hateful," Mrs. Hamilton spoke impulsive- 
 ly, and meeting the girl's faintly surprised smile she 
 blushed. " It is native, I mean," she explained ; " you 
 will throw it away, won't you ? " 
 
 " Perhaps," the girl answered ; then with a swift 
 change of tone : " Will I do, is it time to start ? " 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton clutched bravely at her departing 
 dignity. " You are perfect," she agreed, " and I suppose 
 we had better be going. Gerald went off some time ago. 
 
 But, dear, are you sure " her eyes met those calm 
 
 questioning ones, and the words broke off. " We will 
 start if you are ready," she ended lamely. 
 
 All Shillong was at the wedding, and thronged after- 
 wards to the Hamiltons' house, sipping champagne, 
 tasting the cake, commenting on weddings in general, 
 this one in particular, and brides as a whole. In the 
 dining-room the bride and bridegroom stood side by 
 side Gerald one long positive smile that reached from 
 ear to ear, Esther calm, quiet, withdrawn as ever. 
 
 Dr. Crow did what he described as his walk past, and 
 then sought out Mrs. Hamilton. Mild, perturbed won- 
 derment gazed out from the eye behind the eyeglass. 
 
 " What is it ? " he queried, as soon as he had button- 
 holed her. " For the life of me, I can't make out what 
 it is, but something is up." Hia eyeglass clicked.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 101 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton had been talking to Miss Thomas, the 
 girl moved a little away as Dr. Crow came up. 
 
 "What is what?" Mrs Hamilton asked, "please 
 don't be enigmatical to-day, Di. Crow, my nerves won't 
 stand it." 
 
 " That is it, then," he stated gravely ; his eyeglass came 
 back to place, he surveyed the room. " I knew some one's 
 nerves were out of order, the atmosphere is tense with 
 strained nerves. For a moment," he went on rumina- 
 ting, " as I shook hands with the new Mrs. Hamilton, I 
 thought it\was she who was at fault, now I find, dear 
 lady, that it is you." 
 
 He turned the full contemplation of his gaze on to Mrs. 
 Hamilton ; it brought, as he expected it would, an un- 
 easy flush to her cheeks. 
 
 " You are always finding out absurd things," Bhe 
 answered in self-defence. 
 
 Miss Thomas came back to the discussion, her eyes to- 
 day were perhaps a little too bright over the dark shadow 
 that lay beneath them, but her smile was as frank and 
 cheerful as ever. 
 
 " What has Dr. Crow been finding out, Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton ? " she asked. " No one is safe with a secret once his 
 eyeglass looks into the matter." 
 
 " You are making a mock of my infirmity," remon- 
 strated the little man, " and the real truth is that you are 
 soul sick for " he paused. 
 
 " For what ? " Miss Thomas laughed. " I bet you don't 
 know." 
 
 " For wedding cake," Dr. Crow ended gravely ; 
 " don't attempt to deny it. If you will allow me," he 
 crooked his arm, " I will conduct you to the place
 
 102 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 i 
 
 where a nimble minion will provide us with our wants." 
 
 Miss Thomas laughed again. " I ask for soul comfort, 
 and he gives me cake. Please notice Mrs. Hamilton. 
 However, I will not say no." 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton sighed a little, watching the quaintly 
 matched couple go across the room arm-in-arm. " I 
 wonder if he has guessed her soul secret, poor little 
 girl ? " she thought. " Oh, why couldn't Gerald have 
 wanted to marry her ? " 
 
 The laughter and merriment went on, healths were 
 proposed and returned, the bridegroom made a speech, 
 described afterwards in the local papers as being of 
 soldier-like brevity. The bride slipped away to change 
 into travelling-dress, and came back presently all in soft 
 grey blue, a wide blue feather sweeping round the brim 
 of an altogether black hat. Then more excitement, wild 
 throwing of rice and confetti as the couple hand-in-hand 
 ran down the steps of the bungalow to the waiting rick- 
 shaws. The crowd on the steps and on the verandah 
 raised a cheer as the rickshaws vanished round the bend 
 of the drive. 
 
 " What means it that they tie old shoes thus to the 
 back of the new memsahib's rickshaw ? " whispered one 
 of the back runners of the bride's rickshaw to his fellow. 
 
 " It is a sign that she is the man's for ever," the other 
 answered gravely, but their whispered voices did not 
 rise above the noise of the rickshaw wheels on the ground. 
 
 Jack Hamilton turned to his wife, the last guest having 
 said farewell and taken his departure. 
 
 " Well, little woman," he said, putting an affection- 
 ate hand on her shoulder, " that is over, for which thanks 
 be to Providence. I can only hope that brother of mine
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 103 
 
 will manage his own affairs for a bit. You have worried 
 five grey hairs into your head over this." 
 
 His hand touched softly on the thick brown hair. 
 " As if that mattered," Mrs. Hamilton answered. '"Jack, 
 oh Jack, I hope he will be happy." Her eyes were wist- 
 ful, her voice troubled. 
 
 " Of course he will, anyway for a bit ; only I could 
 marry you, wife of mine. That is a compliment, and if 
 you could stop thinking about my brother and devote a 
 little attention to poor old me, I should be grate- 
 ful." 
 
 " You ! " Mrs. Hamilton smiled, but her eyes did not 
 look at him, " you are so old and safe." 
 
 " Thank you," her husband bowed gratefully. 
 
 " But Gerald, somehow," she went on quickly, " the 
 memory of his face, so pleased, so happy, to-day of all 
 days, hurt me." 
 
 " Well, of all the unreasonable women, Heaven defend 
 me," Jack Hamilton put two strong hands on his wife's 
 shoulders and shook her gently. " Why shouldn't he 
 look happy, to-day of all days ? answer me that, 
 madam." 
 
 " I don't know," Mrs. Hamilton admitted ; before his 
 aggrieved bewildered face she had to laugh. None the 
 less her eyes blinked back on the tears that struggled to 
 them, and she turned and went back hastily into the 
 house. 
 
 The offending present was not in sight in Esther's 
 room. The ayah was busy smoothing out and folding 
 up the wedding dress, the bulk of the luggage was piled 
 up in a corner of the room. The newly married couple 
 were to fetch it on their way in from the honeymoon,
 
 104 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 which they were spending at one of the Government's 
 bungalows down in a neighbouring valley. 
 
 " Did the missahib leave any presents to be packed ? " 
 Mrs. Hamilton asked the woman. 
 
 " No, memsahib," the ayah looked up from her work 
 to answer ; " the missahib took this morning's gift with 
 her in the little handbag ; I was not allowed to touch it." 
 
 There was a glint of curiosity in the woman's eyes, her 
 busy brain was evolving more information for the ser- 
 vants' quarter. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton made no answer and she turned and 
 went from the room. The uneasiness had returned four- 
 fold to her heart. And it was this little incident of the 
 native drum which was to stand out more clearly in her 
 memory than any other event of Gerald's wedding-day.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 " A trifle makes a dream 
 A trifle breaks it." 
 
 THE Dhak-bungalow of Panchrast e lies, as its name 
 implies Panch meaning five, and raste roads 
 at the starting-point of five valley paths. It is a Govern- 
 ment building, kept up for the use of the district officer 
 on his bi-yearly tours of inspection. That is to say, here 
 he pitches camp either on his outward or return march to 
 Shillong. These tours are perhaps the most enviable duty 
 that falls to the lot of the Indian civil servant. To leave 
 your dusty files and offices, your social life and duties, 
 the daily routine of civilization, and hie out into the wilds 
 be they the stretching plains of the Punjab, the jun- 
 gles and rice-fields of Bengal, or the above all fascinating 
 mountain world of the hill districts must hold a decided 
 charm. Ordinarily speaking, the judge or collector travels 
 with his household complete : unlike the snail he does not 
 carry it on his back, but it goes with him and things are 
 very comfortably arranged by the unlimited number of 
 servants he has at his disposal. He strikes camp early 
 in the day, and, riding or driving as his choice may be, 
 covers between twenty and thirty miles each day of the 
 district to be inspected. He may go a circuitous route, 
 sometimes he will turn aside to inspect this village, or 
 
 105
 
 106 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 look to the making of that well : his fatherly eye has to in- 
 Bpect the management of the village school, and his word 
 is needed to settle some dispute between two farmers. 
 Often wild duck shooting or even larger game will call 
 for his attention. Meanwhile his household, consisting 
 as it does of his bedroom tent, his reception tent, his 
 kitchen tent and all; the little etcs. which make for com- 
 fort, accompanied by a vast retinue of servants, goes 
 straight for the next camping ground, and by midday 
 everything is prepared which everything includes a hot 
 bath and awaiting the sahib's presence. Then a peace- 
 ful afternoon is passed, holding a semi-court in the re- 
 ception tent, till evening, which brings a good dinner, a 
 comfortable smoke, and a friendly bonfire outside your 
 tent door. Perhaps the programme seems a little lonely, 
 but most Englishmen are at heart wanderers, and it is 
 during these touring seasons that men leam to know and 
 love India as those who would govern her must know and 
 love her. 
 
 At stated intervals along the line of inspection there 
 are Government bungalows, such as the one that lies 
 perched on a little mound, overlooking the valleys of 
 Panchraste, and it was to this place, which had been lent 
 them by Mr. Hamilton, that Gerald and his wife came 
 the evening of their wedding day. It had been an easy 
 downhill run for the rickshaw men, and the distance of 
 ten miles had been covered at a steady trot. It was still 
 early in the evening when they drew up before the steps 
 of the little whitewashed bungalow. 
 
 It stands in an ideal setting, this house, built by some 
 long ago forest officer, the very square precision of the 
 English planned building fitting in quaintly with the mad
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 107 
 
 profusion of Nature all around. Low among the trees, 
 its roof moss-grown, and spotted here and there with 
 colour where the goldmohur blossoms from a neighbour- 
 ing tree had fallen. The servants had been sent down 
 before them, everything was in 'readiness : the green- 
 shuttered windows of the rooms had been thrown open 
 to the air and sunshine, tea was awaiting them in the 
 cool shady verandah. 
 
 Gerald helped Esther from her rickshaw, noticing with 
 rather anxious eyes how white her face was. The hands 
 in his were cold, the girl's eyes would not meet his own. 
 For a moment it damped his spirits, he had been so 
 radiantly happy that, till this moment, other thoughts 
 had been pushed from his mind. Now suddenly he re- 
 membered how Esther had faced him that evening in Mrs. 
 Hamilton's drawing-room. " I don't love you," she had 
 said, and that, he remembered, with a little twinge of 
 conscience, had been her attitude ever since. He was 
 going to teach her to love him. That he never doubted, 
 but meanwhile the girl was without doubt frightened and 
 overstrained by the position in which she found herself. 
 
 " By Jove," Gerald thought contritely, " what a brute I 
 have been. I have just been content to imagine she was 
 
 as gloriously happy as I am, whereas " The sudden 
 
 instinctive thought made him very gentle to the girl, 
 and for the time being, with a loyalty for which Esther 
 hardly gave him credit, he pushed back all desire to make 
 love to her. 
 
 " This is good, isn't it ? " he asked. " And here is tea. 
 Are you too tired, Esther, and too fed up with wedding 
 cake, to want any ? I am as hungry as a hunter." 
 
 " No, I am not tired," the girl answered. She eat
 
 108 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 down listlessly in the chair he pulled forward, her hands 
 clasped in front of her, her eyes on the flowers outside. 
 She was palpably nervous. Once or twice Gerald thought 
 her mouth quivered, as if she were on the point of tears, 
 and he longed to take her into his arms, more than he had 
 ever wanted to before, and kiss those wistful eyes. Yet 
 with the mistaken generosity of a very honest heart he 
 crushed back the idea, schooling himself to cheerful 
 friendliness instead. 
 
 " Take off your hat," he suggested. " I'll put it into 
 your room, for you, and take great care not to put it 
 upside down. You will be more comfortable without it." 
 
 Esther put up hands that shook a little to find the hat- 
 pins. She had drunk the tea he had poured out for her, 
 and eaten the offered cake with the same passive obedi- 
 ence. Her eyes, just for the second that she handed the 
 hat to him, did meet Gerald's he could have sworn 
 there was terror in them. 
 
 He came back to the verandah, after having put the 
 hat down, and drawing up a chair, sat down a little 
 nearer to her. Esther did not look up, and he leant 
 forward to put one of his big, strong hands over hers. 
 
 " Look here, little girl," he said, " you are worrying 
 over something. I hate to see you like this, especially 
 as I expect it is my fault. Dear, I want you to under- 
 stand that you need never be afraid or nervous because 
 of me. I don't know how to put it any plainer just for 
 the present, but I am going out for a good long walk 
 somewhere to worry it out, and you are going to go in to 
 lie down ; rest sleep if you can. Then we will have 
 dinner out here if you feel up to it, if not, you shall 
 have it in your room. You are never to worry about
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 109 
 
 anything," he added, with mock solemnity, trying to 
 win a smile from her, " least of all about me." 
 
 Esther stood up ; she swayed a little, and twice she 
 tried to speak, but her throat was dry and the words 
 would not come. " I suppose I am tired," she said at 
 last. " I'll go to my room as you suggest." Her eyes 
 wavered, as if still unwilling to meet his, but she held out 
 her hands to him. " I am not afraid of you, Grald " 
 her voice dropped to a whisper " don't go far." 
 
 Perhaps if he had been a little less conscientious, a 
 little less whole-heartedly anxious to serve her and not 
 himself, Gerald might in that moment when, of her own 
 free-will, she turned to him, have straightened out the 
 tangled knot in their thread of lif e. As it was he merely 
 lifted her cold hands to his lips and kissed them, and 
 instead of the great love his heart held for her she saw 
 only the smile in iiis eyes, and felt how hopelessly far 
 away he was from her. 
 
 Gerald, striding along for his four mile walk, was met 
 by his orderly, Shahjahan, at the gate of the compound. 
 The man's face wore a wide smile ; his eyes beamed at his 
 master. He had a piece of news which he knew would 
 appeal to the Sahib if his mind were not too fully 
 occupied with the new mem to heed it. 
 
 " Sahib," he said deferentially, placing himself in 
 Gerald's path and salaaming, " a man of the village has 
 given me news of a tiger near to here." 
 
 He looked anxiously for the expected flash of interest 
 if anything was dear to the heart of Shahjahan it was a 
 tiger shoot. His master, however, appeared to be 
 moodily uninterested ; he did not so much as stay his 
 walk, and Shahjahan was : obliged to drop into pace a few
 
 110 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 steps behind and carry on his information rather jerkily. 
 
 " He is of full age, this tiger, Sahib, and has done much 
 damage to the cattle of the poor folk round here. Now 
 they fear even for their own lives, since two days gone 
 he has killed and eaten of man's flesh that is to say, 
 'twas but a woman, and a widow at that ; still, the taste 
 id without doubt the same." 
 
 " What are you talking about, Shahjahan," Gerald 
 interrupted impatiently ; " this is no time for such talk." 
 
 None the less his ear had been caught. Shahjahan 
 breathed freely. " I was but saying, huzoor," he volun- 
 teered meekly, " that all arrangements' have been made 
 by me. I have prepared the beat, the bullock is tied in a 
 lucky place. If the sahib will but sit up for half the 
 night, without doubt a noble animal will fall to his gun." 
 
 Gerald paused ; an idea was slowly forming in his mind. 
 After all, here lay a sure and certain method of setting 
 Esther's fear at rest, and for himself well, it would at 
 least provide something which would take him away from 
 the goal of his own thoughts. 
 
 " How far is the kill ? " he asked. 
 
 " But a stone's throw from the house, huzoor," 
 Shahjahan answered eagerly. 
 
 " Very well, then," Gerald had made up his mind 
 suddenly, and for some reason the weight of pexplexity 
 seemed lifted thereby " I will come. See to my gun ; 
 we will take up our position ere the moon rises ; that will 
 be time enough. And now leave me. I would be alone." 
 
 " Huzoor," Shahjahan salaamed, a smile of triumph on 
 his countenance, and turning disappeared in the direction 
 of the village to complete his preparations, and also to 
 obtain hie bet money from the insolent stranger who had
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 111 
 
 dared to assert that his, Shahjahan's, sahib would prove 
 a laggard when hunting was in question. 
 
 Gerald, on his return to the bungalow, found Esther 
 waiting for him on the verandah. She had changed 
 from her going away finery into a white evening dress, 
 her hair was done high in a bewildering new fashion, so 
 that it formed a crown of gold for her face. She had 
 rouged her cheeks, Gerald noticed with a shock of sur- 
 prise, just ever so lightly. It made her more than ordin- 
 arily beautiful, but somehow he did not like it. She 
 had been sitting inertly on one of the long verandah 
 chairs, but as he came up the steps she rose quickly 
 and came across to meet him. 
 
 " You have come back," she said. There was a ring of 
 something in her voice, it might have been relief. Gerald's 
 tingling nerves chose to ascribe it to uneasiness. He 
 thought her eyes looked as if she had been crying, and 
 gathered that it was the marks of tears she had been 
 attempting to obliterate on her face. So intent was he 
 on his observations, that he did not notice she was 
 holding out her hands to him, and Esther drew them back 
 quickly. 
 
 " Rested, Esther ? " he asked, throwing his hat on one 
 of the chairs and lighting a cigarette 1 for himself. " That's 
 right. I'll have a tub and change too ; then we will have 
 dinner out here. It is a ripping little spot, isn't it ? 
 Ever seen such goldmohurs in your life before ? " 
 
 He moved across, and leant over the verandah rail to 
 pull one of the branches down to him. The girl did not 
 follow him ; she went back to her chair again and sat 
 down. 
 
 " They are very beautiful," he said, " but I don't
 
 112 
 
 b'ke them very much." The note of expectancy, 01 
 whatever it was, had gone from her voice, it sounded 
 tired. 
 
 Gerald flicked back the branch he had been trying to 
 pluck for her, and turned. " Perhaps they are a bit 
 heavy," he said. " I'll be ofi and change ; shan't be five 
 minutes. Hie bearer," he shouted in Hindustani, 
 " Memsahib and I will dine out here, fetch dinner quick." 
 
 Shhajahan padded about briskly important, laying the 
 dinner while his master dressed. Once or twice he stole a 
 look at the new Memsahib. Without doubt the sahib had 
 told her of his intention to shoot the tiger, and like all 
 women-kind she was bitter because of it. They would 
 tie their menfolk to them night and day women if they 
 had but their will. This one sat very quiet, her eyes 
 fixed on the goldmohur blossoms. Once or twice her 
 lips moved, but Shahjahan, even if he had been able 
 to hear would not have understood, for she spoke in 
 English. 
 
 " You know," said Gerald, half-way through dinner 
 he was still laboriously cheerful, " you don't eat enough 
 to keep a mouse alive, Esther. What am I to do with 
 you ? " 
 
 The girl lifted her eyes for a moment. " I can't eat 
 to-night," she answered stiffly. 
 
 Gerald said " Damn " under his breath. He himself 
 was making none too good a meal. He pushed his un- 
 tasted pudding away now and stood up. " Let's have 
 coffee and smokes outside, shall we, Esther ? It seems 
 somehow awfully airless to-night." 
 
 The servants carried out chairs and a table for th 
 coffee and drinks, setting them down on the little strip
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 113 
 
 of paved ground which lay in front of the verandah. 
 Gerald decided they would do without a lamp ; it merely 
 served to attract countless moths and nightjbeetles. They 
 could see quite well without it, for though the moon had 
 not yet risen, there was a glow in the skies heralding her 
 arrival, and in any case their chairs were hardly beyond 
 the circle of light thrown from the verandah lamps. 
 
 After the servants had vanished back to the house, 
 they sat in silence. He would not look at her because 
 the pulse of his desire was hard to keep in check, and he 
 could not carry on the game of cheerfulness any longer. 
 He had a feeling that his voice would give him away ; it 
 would ring with all he so much longed to say to her. So 
 he smoked instead, and Listened to the wild unearthly 
 noises which were echoing from the bazaar. They were 
 preparing for his night's sport with a vengeance. Once 
 Esther moved a little nearer him ; he could hear hei 
 breath coming and going ; what on earth was she think- 
 ing of ? What nerving herself to bear ? At last he 
 could stand it no longer ; let him have it out with her and 
 krtow that she at least was content. 
 
 " Esther," he said suddenly, and he turned to face her 
 in the gloom, " you remember what you said about not 
 loving. me when you promised to marry me, and how I 
 promised never to ask from you more than you could give 
 of your own free will ? Well, I have not forgotten the 
 promise, things are not changed between us, dear. Do 
 you understand ? " He stood up. " You have been 
 frightened of me all to-day, and I I can't bear it. Men 
 are made different to women, Esther ; that is a thing that 
 boys at least learn early in life. We have different force* 
 passions, I suppose they would be called that sway u*
 
 114 The Lure of the Little Drum ! 
 
 more strongly than women can ever understand. I 
 well, I love you, dear, and it is just more than I can do 
 to-night to sit beside you, look at you, talk to you, like 
 any ordinary friend. I am mad, mad for the touch of 
 you, the heart of you; Oh, forgive me, dear, if I stayed 
 by you any longer, I should come so near to failing you 
 that I might lose all. So I I am going to spend the 
 night away from here. There is a tiger in the neighbour- 
 hood, Shahjahan tells me; I shall sit up on the chance of 
 getting a shot at it." He ended rather abruptly ; Gerald 
 had never been capable of sustained eloquence. 
 
 Esther stood up, her figure an indistinct blur of white 
 to his eyes. " You are going to leave me alone ? " 
 she said. This time there was unmistakable fear in her 
 voice. 
 
 " It is the only thing I can do," Gerald answered 
 shortly. 
 
 The girl shivered ever so slightly. Gerald chose to 
 decide that it was a sigh of relief. 
 
 " Alone," she whispered again ; her hands went up to 
 her throat. Then suddenly she began to laugh, softly, 
 uncannily. Any woman could have told the boy there 
 was hysteria behind that laugh. " That's funny," she 
 said, " very funny." She laughed again and turned 
 to go back into the house. " I hope you will have good 
 sport," she added, stopping for a moment on the steps 
 to look back at him. 
 
 Gerald stood and stared after her. That she should 
 have laughed passed all his bounds of comprehension and 
 cut at his heart like a knife. His attempted explanation 
 had made him appear a fool in her eyes, that was all. 
 What a damned fool he was, and what a damned world
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 115 
 
 this was to live in. He upset the table as he turned to 
 go. The house was hateful to him, he would not wait to 
 go back there ; Shahjahan should fetch him what he 
 required for the night. 
 
 " Shahjahan," his voice rang out in a shout, " come 
 quickly, you lazy devil, it is time we started." 
 
 f
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 The depth and dream of my desire, 
 The bitter paths in which I stray, 
 Thou knowest who has made the fire, 
 Thou knowest who has made the clay." 
 
 scent of the moghra trees, heavy as it had been 
 JL in the day-time, gathered strength it would seem, 
 when night fell. The perfume of them was flooding the 
 little verandah as Esther came up the steps ; behind her 
 she could heai the quick sound of the table Gerald over- 
 turned in his haste and his shouts for Shahjahan. From 
 within the lighted room her ayah rose to greet her, sleepy 
 and frankly yawning. Esther paused a moment to turn 
 and look back into the darkness of the garden and to her 
 overwrought nerves it seemed that the heavy scent 
 thrown out by the waxen flowers was the same as that 
 which had clung so tenaciously to her from the burnt 
 ashes of Ishaq Khan's letter. 
 
 " Will memsahib want for anything to-night ? " the 
 ayah's voice broke into her fancies, " if not, have I leave 
 to go and prepare my food ? Here there are no other 
 women to cook for me and the village is far off." 
 
 " Go, oh yes go." Esther spoke quickly, her hands were 
 working within each other. " I shall not go to bed yet. 
 I will " her eyes glanced from side to side as if looking 
 
 116
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 117 
 
 for something " I will take a book and sit on the 
 verandah " she decided. 
 
 The woman watched her with curious eyes, but content 
 to have achieved her own ends did not stop to offer any 
 suggestion as to the lateness of the hour. She turned to 
 go impassively ; the white folks' dealings were generally 
 beyond her understanding. 
 
 " And Rabea, wait," Esther's voice arrested her, 
 " send one of the rickshaw men to sit here on the steps. 
 I am nervous ; we are so near the jungle and the sahib 
 has gone out." 
 
 Yes, that was the bottom of the trouble, Rabea re- 
 flected, the sahib had gone out ; such was indeed strange 
 behaviour for a wedding night. She carried out her mis- 
 tress's wish, anyhow, passing on the order in shrill tones 
 to the servants' quarters, and to Luximan, chief runner to 
 the memsahib's rickshaw, was deputed the task. It was 
 not altogether to his liking, that must be admitted ; the 
 jungle held far more terrors for him than it could for 
 Esther ; still there was the white lady and her halo of 
 light to keep ofi the evil spirits, and Luximan with 
 one eye fixed on this moral support squatted on his 
 haunches with his back to the forest and a firm determi- 
 nation not to think of the awful things he might see in his 
 mind. 
 
 So placed he was hardly calculated to see the approach 
 of the house, none the less it was not only his native ear 
 trained to detect the slightest sound that led him to know 
 that some one or something was about to arrive. For the 
 memsahib was seeing what he only heard, she had risen 
 to her feet and her hands had gone to her throat. The 
 book she had been holding fell to the ground at her move-
 
 118 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 ment and Luximan scrambled to his feet. If she was 
 afraid, it was" nothing to the horror that was holding him ; 
 not for the world's wealth would he have faced round on 
 what she was seeing. It came then as a relief that the 
 next sound which broke the tense silence should be a 
 man's voice speaking in what Luximan could recognize 
 as the white man's tongue. Here then was no ghost 01 
 evil spirit; with his courage returned Luximan turned to 
 greet the intruder who stood before him tall and suave, a 
 native in the dress of the sahib log. 
 
 Luximan was not a resident of Shillong for nothing ; he 
 knew the man at once and after a brief salaam turned to 
 reassure his mistress who had without doubt been 
 frightened. Ishaq Khan was before him though ; with a 
 quick muttered word in Hindustani to Luximan he 
 pushed past him and was standing by Esther on the 
 verandah. 
 
 The girl's hands fell slowly to her sides, she made no 
 attempt to greet him but her eyes, wide and frightened, 
 stayed on his. This, though as a rule he was not prone 
 to observations, Luximan noticed and unobtrusively, for 
 Ishaq Khan's order had been for him to remove himself, 
 he squatted back on his haunches and proceeded to watch 
 events. The couple on the verandah were unconscious 
 of his presence, certainly Ishaq Khan was unaware of it. 
 
 " Well," he whispered, bending a little to Esther bring- 
 ing his head on a level with hers, " you got my letter, and 
 it has come true, has it not ? You are alone ? " 
 
 At the nearness of his presence the girl stepped back, 
 her hands catching desperately to the back of the chair, 
 holding on to it as a drowning man might to a plank of 
 wood.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 119 
 
 " Why have you come ? " she forced herself to an- 
 swer. 
 
 " Did you neither expect nor want me, Esther ? " the 
 man answered ; his voice had some strange compelling 
 power behind it ; to Esther it seemed as if a living force 
 passed over her, pulling at every nerve in her body till it 
 ached with the strain. Luximan watching, saw her loose 
 her hold of the chair and pass her hand over her face as if 
 in so doing she pushed something from her, then she 
 turned and walked quickly to the verandah rails. 
 
 " Please go away," she said ; her words came quickly, 
 she turned to face Ishaq Khan her hands clenched in front 
 of her. " I don't know what you are trying to make me 
 do, but it is evil. I will not do it. I will not listen. Oh, 
 if you have any feeling for me in your heart, like you have 
 pretended to have, you will go away now at once." 
 
 " Pretended," the man's curiously intent voice re- 
 peated the word scornfully, " I have pretended, you say. 
 Why, you know, the whole of your heart and body this 
 moment is telling you how little pretence there can be 
 between us." He followed to her side once more and 
 stood staring down at her. " I love you, Esther, as you 
 love me. Your wedding, this thick-headed husband, 
 is not going to change things between us. I have always 
 loved you, and you me since the world began." 
 
 He bent towards her and Luximan, still intently watch- 
 ing, saw the white girl shiver a little. 
 
 " It isn't love," Esther answered ; her hands closed and 
 unclosed, she turned a little from the man ; something 
 that Gerald had said earlier in the evening stirred across 
 her brain. " You weave some spell over me," she went on 
 Rpeaking dully. " When your hands are on me I have no
 
 120 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 thoughts, no will of my own, but it is not love. Oh, will 
 you not go ? " she turned desperately to him again, 
 " go quickly, as I ask you to and leave me to find what 
 good I can in my heart." 
 
 Ishaq Khan watched her, his eyes narrowed to a smile, 
 he was so sure of victory with what she had admitted be- 
 tween them that he could afford to wait a little for his 
 triumph. 
 
 " You funny white child," he whispered softly, but he 
 made no attempt to touch or hold her. " Perhaps it is 
 love then that you feel for this husband of yours whose 
 hands can send no message to your heart, whose kisses 
 mean nothing to you." 
 
 He drew a little nearer to her ; to Esther it seemed as 
 if his presence filled the whole world, and once again as if 
 afraid of his nearness she put out her hands to push him 
 away. 
 
 " Yes," she answered ; her words came a little hurried- 
 ly, " yes, yes, and he loves me ; I want his love to grow up 
 like a shield between me and" her voice dropped 
 " you," she whispered, and drew back, her hands again 
 hiding her face in them, shrinking as far away as possible 
 against the verandah railings. 
 
 Ishaq Khan's smile widened into a little laugh. 
 " Why ? " he asked, " in the name of all the loves of the 
 world, why ? My poor little white rose, you are fighting 
 against Fate. Even your own heart whispers that to 
 you, and see, you are shutting your eyes to the truth. 
 Give your hands to mine, little white rose, let me teach 
 you life's lesson and show you the glory of it." 
 
 He had a wonderful voice, this man, soft and compell- 
 ing with the strength that lay behind the words. Esther's
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 121 
 
 hands fell away from her eyes and her face piteous in its 
 weakness was lifted to his. 
 
 " You will come now, little white rose, is it not so ? if I 
 hold out my arms you will creep in close to my heart, 
 your mouth is eager for my kisses. But wait, let the 
 dark and the moonlight, the scent of flowers, the call of 
 life in the jungles speak for me too." 
 
 lie stepped back a little and bending over the lamp 
 blew it out gently. In place of its rather crude glare a 
 wonderful moon flooded the verandah, leaving grotesque 
 black shadows in the corners where her light could not 
 permeate but touching everything else with her magical 
 fairy fingers. The flowering branches of the trees took 
 on ethereal dancing shapes under her light ; the glimpses 
 of faint far-away skies showed deep purple ; all the air 
 was laden with mystery, scented with moonshine and 
 flowers and behind and around night hung heavy and 
 intense, the great heart of the world beating through the 
 silence in answer to the passion of the moon. 
 
 Luximan stirred and coughed uneasily. The blowing 
 out of the lamp caused him intense discomfort, not from 
 any moral disapproval Luximan was too thoroughly 
 Eastern to bother much over morality but with the 
 moon as sole illumination the jungle world took on 
 horrible imagined shapes and figures. He would like to 
 have risen and fled but something held him to his post 
 and he stayed, hunched up on the steps, eyes staring 
 into the darkness. 
 
 Ishaq Khan had moved back softly to Esther's side ; 
 she could feel him near her and hear his breath as it came 
 and went. What had she been fighting against shame ? 
 What had she dreaded loss of pride and honour ? The
 
 122 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 moonlight flickered and beckoned before her eyes the 
 scent of the flowers mounted to her brain. Did anything 
 in the whole world matter so long as this man's arms held 
 her and his voice was in her ears. Unknowingly, almost 
 swayed by the strong forces that were driving her on, she 
 put out her hands, leaning a little towards him and in a 
 moment his arms were round her, his lips had found her 
 mouth. 
 
 The silence grew really more than Luximan could bear; 
 what strange shape was that stirring in the patch of 
 jungle just beyond where the gate post showed white ? 
 had it not eyes that glinted and glowed in the dark, and a 
 heavy moving body, monstrous and grotesque. Surely 
 it was creeping closer with every movement, hugging the 
 shadows truly such evil things of the night fear even 
 moonlight but none the less drawing nearer and nearer. 
 If the lamp had only been alight that would have served 
 to ward off the monster, but as it was beast, god, or 
 devil, it was undoubtedly getting near enough to leap and 
 with a shriek of horror Luximan sprang to his 
 feet. 
 
 " Koi ata ahi, bhut, bhut ! " l he yelled and made a 
 rapid dive up the verandah. 
 
 His panic communicated itself to the servants' 
 quarters ; agitated cries answered his, lights twinkled 
 in all directions. 
 
 Ishaq Khan pushed Esther to one side and grabbed at 
 Luximan's flying form. 
 
 " What devil's game is this, spawn of the evil one ? " 
 he asked, shaking the man to silence. 
 
 Luximan summoned what control he could over his 
 1 " Some one io coming a ghost, a ghost."
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 123 
 
 fear-driven nerves ; a crowd of fellow servants had gath- 
 ered round him, the head man was carefully relighting the 
 lamp. 
 
 " Something crept at me from the shadows," he ex- 
 plained ; then becoming suddenly aware of the hate in 
 Ishaq Khan's eyes his voice quailed. " I was afraid, 
 afraid," he repeated. 
 
 Jshaq Khan flung him aside. " May fear choke you 
 next time" he muttered, then dismissing the rest of the 
 servants with a few quick words he turned again to 
 Esther who pale and shivering had sunk back into the 
 chair. . 
 
 " There is nothing to fear, Esther," he said taking her 
 two hands and drawing her to her feet, "but we had 
 better get away as soon as possible. Your husband may 
 have heard that idiot yelling. You will come with me 
 now, will you not ? there is no more doubt in your heart. 
 My beautiful white rose. My rose." He drew her into 
 his arms and bent his head to kiss her again, but the spell 
 had been broken ; with a strength she hardly knew her- 
 self to be possessed of Esther wrenched herself free from 
 his arms and stood away. 
 
 " No," she said, " no. It is the evil in me that answers 
 to your call and I I want to fight against it, other things 
 in my life shall give me strength to win. Oh, don't think I 
 don't know or can't understand all that your hold on me 
 means. I have known good and evil all my life and I 
 want the good. I want to choose the good. You must 
 go, go now, go quickly." 
 
 This time more force than pleading sounded in her 
 voice. " I will call the servants back, I will get help, 
 Luximan shall fetch my husband, oh go go quickly."
 
 124 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 Ishaq Khan knew himself defeated ; when you are rely- 
 ing upon passion for your victory and feeling suddenly 
 becomes subservient to will, it spells defeat. There was 
 murder in his heart for the moment though nothing of this 
 showed in his face. 
 
 " Very well ; " he infused a certain amount of mock 
 humility into his words. " I will go since you so decide. 
 But you are mine, Esther, why struggle, if not now then a 
 little later you will come to me, you will need me. And I 
 can wait for that. Listen," he held up his hand and from 
 the distant village came the low throbbing note of a tom- 
 tom played on by some master hand. " It is the sound 
 of my heart, the voice of my desire which will follow you 
 even across the seas and bring you back." 
 
 It was wise to leave her on that, a finished exit. 
 Esther sat after he had gone a huddled figure in the chair, 
 her hands over her eyes, fighting as she had never fought 
 before against her own tumultuous desires, against the 
 memory of his lips on hers. And passion once roused by 
 whatever cause is not a thing easily quenched or forgot- 
 ten.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 "You'll love me yet, and I can tarry 
 Your love'a protracted growing." 
 
 R. Browning. 
 
 THE young Hamiltons went back to Shillong next 
 day, merely stopping to collect their luggage and 
 then catching the night mail down to Bombay and the 
 P. & 0. steamer on which they had booked their passages 
 to England. For the real honeymoon, so Gerald was at 
 some pains to explain to himself, was to be spent in Scot- 
 land, up in the north of Forfar where his old home lay. 
 A land of moor and heather hills, swept by the four winds 
 of heaven, sweet scented, sunny, clean. There he would 
 set himself to the winning of Esther, and in those sur- 
 roundings surely she would wake from the hateful 
 influence that so far held her. 
 
 Though the carrying out of his plan was by no means 
 easy, still the casual events of the journey, the fact that 
 for the next three weeks they would be travelling, in no 
 small measure aided him. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton travelled with them as far as 
 Bombay. Jack had some official reason for the journey 
 and Marjorie went ostensibly to see the young couple off. 
 They were two days and two nights in the train and in 
 the end Marjorie's heart was no nearer being satisfied 
 as to the probability of Gerald's future happiness. 
 
 Esther appeared curiously quiet and apathetic ; she 
 
 125
 
 126 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 hardly ever spoke to any of the party, rarely even looked 
 at Gerald. She sat for the most part, her hands on her lap, 
 her eyes studying the landscape as it flashed and slipped 
 past the windows. Gerald and Jack played picquet, 
 bought innumerable books and papers, got out at nearly 
 every station to stretch their legs. Sometimes the train 
 v^ould come to some long pause at the larger terminuses, 
 Delhi, Allahabad, Lahore, and the whole party would 
 disembark to get a meal of sorts in the station restaurant. 
 Then Jack, the idea that a party of four might be rather 
 wearisome to a newly married couple was beginning to 
 dawn on him, would suggest to Marjorie that they should 
 take a stroll, the train was not due to start for half an 
 hour, a walk would do her good. And they would go and 
 come back to find Gerald and Esther already ensconced 
 in the carriage, Gerald buried in a book, Esther back in 
 her old seat watching the native crowds on the platform. 
 
 " Things," as Jack remarked to Marjorie on one of 
 these occasions just as they drew near the carriage door, 
 " are not as they ought to be. Shall I say something to 
 Gerald or what about your tackling the girl ? " 
 
 " It wouldn't be any use," answered Marjorie, " they 
 must^go their own way, Jack, but I wish it hadn't had to 
 happen." 
 
 " An involved sentence, dear," remonstrated her hus- 
 band. He generously forbore to add what he thought, 
 that he had warned her from the beginning not to en- 
 courage the match. 
 
 The P. & 0. docks in Bombay present a scene of busy 
 confusion on the outgoing or incoming of the Indian 
 mails. There are so many luggage-laden coolies, all 
 rushing about, aimlessly it would appear to any one unac-
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 127 
 
 customed to native methods, so much shouting and shrill 
 voiced arguments on all sides. A shed, which has been 
 erected only since plague took a firm grip on India, stands 
 in the middle of the scene ; through this the would-be 
 passengers have to proceed in single file to have their 
 temperatures taken and their tongues inspected, and 
 after that there can be no further good-byes or intercour- 
 ses of any sort save hand waving with those who are left 
 behind. Even the luggage has here to be handed over to 
 the ship's stewards, but though his actual labours cease 
 at that moment, the average coolie can be relied on to 
 carry forward his busy noise and confusion over nothing 
 until the ship is actually under weigh. And over all this 
 tumult and mass of moving people imagine a blue sky 
 and a blazing sun which seems to turn even the distant 
 sea into a pool of molten brass. 
 
 That is what it appeared to be like to Gerald Hamilton 
 as he stood with Esther and Mrs. Hamilton a little with- 
 drawn from the pushing excited mass of natives. Foi 
 the first time in his lif e he could understand something of 
 his sister-in-law's feelings towards India. It was cer- 
 tainly excessively hot ; he was beginning to think that he 
 hated this same strong sunshine, this vivid, coloured life. 
 Thank goodness, they were getting away from it for a bit, 
 going back to a land where life slipped by more sanely, 
 where the sun on blue water did not shrivel up your eyes 
 to look at it. 
 
 " You are glad to be going, aren't you ? " he asked* 
 suddenly of Esther, touching the hand that lay near his ; 
 Mrs. Hamilton had hurried off to speak to some one she 
 knew in the crowd and for the moment they were alone. 
 " To-day I feel as if I should like to know I was nevex
 
 128 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 coming back. It feeds one up this kind of glaring heat, 
 doesn't it ? " 
 
 Esther looked up at him ; her hand tightened on his. 
 " Don't let us come back," she whispered. " I I hate 
 it all, I never want to see it again." 
 
 Gerald was a little disturbed at the intensity of her 
 answer and almost instinctively it switched him back to 
 the common-sense view of things. 
 
 "I felt like hating it too for the minute," he said; his 
 eyes lingered over the crowd and met those of Shahjahan 
 who was standing patient and devoted keeping guard 
 over his sahib's hatbox and golf sticks. " But it is not 
 really so bad, Esther," he added. " You will feel differ- 
 ent about it when we have been home for a bit. And we 
 will have to come back ; there is the regiment, and Shah- 
 jahan, and well my life lies out here." He half re- 
 gretted having grumbled about it to her ; he did not want 
 her to feel about India quite what Mar jorie did; that 
 would not make for happiness. 
 
 " I think I shall always hate it," she answered now 
 slowly and her hand slipped from his. 
 
 Jack came up at the moment, very hot, very out of 
 breath with his efforts ; he had been struggling with a 
 whole army of police chuprassis and the young couple's 
 luggage. 
 
 " Everything is all right now I think," he volunteered. 
 " I. have passed the luggage through, though the clerk 
 was a born fool and wanted some talking to. Better 
 think about shipping yourself I fancy, most of the crowd 
 are shifting. Where is Mar jorie ? Oh, talking to the 
 Beameua ; I suppose Mrs. B. is going home with you ; 
 she does a yearly bunk to England about this time."
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 129 
 
 He moved across in the direction of his wife, Esther 
 following, Gerald turned aside for a second to give some 
 farewell instructions to Shahjahan. 
 
 " See to it the ponies are properly fed and looked 
 after," he said in the man's vernacular ; " I return in 
 three months, Shahjahan." 
 
 " In three months," the man answered eagerly ; " may 
 the days slip by ; all shall be safe in my hands, huzoor." 
 
 " Right," answered Gerald, he smiled good-naturedly ; 
 he was fond of old Shahjahan though he had very little 
 idea of how deeply and devotedly this fondness was 
 returned. " Salaam, Shahjahan, salaam." 
 
 Then he joined the rest of his party and a few minutes 
 later, Laving shaken Jack warmly by the hand and re- 
 assured Marjorie about his absolute happiness, he found 
 himself standing with Esther and a crowd of fellow- 
 passengers by the deck rails, watching while the great 
 steamer, a slow moving island of wood and iron, detached 
 herself from the quay and settled heavily to her three 
 weeks' task, cutting a way through the quiet harbour 
 waters out into the moving sun-bathed sea beyond. 
 
 Slowly, so slowly at first that the movement was 
 scarce noticeable, yet the people on shore, within arms* 
 reach a moment earlier were now almost indistinguish- 
 able the one from the other ; slowly, while the palm trees 
 and roofs and towers of Bombay all melted and blended 
 together ; slowly, till the harbour lay behind them a mass 
 of shimmering gold with its boats and islands and far 
 hills beyond, like specks of black upon its brightness. 
 Then, with the first wave, gentle yet strong enough to 
 lift ever so slightly this monster of man's making, the 
 ship was at sea ; no method now of saying whether she 
 
 E
 
 130 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 was going fast or slow for even the last outreaching fingei 
 of land, Colaba Lighthouse, had dropped out of sight 
 behind, and around as far as eye could see was nothing 
 but the blue moving mass of the Indian Ocean. 
 
 The passengers dispersed one by one to their various 
 cabins, over nearly every one of them hung the shadow of 
 parting and it would be a day or two before the ship 
 could waken to the proper cheerfulness of a home-going 
 crew., Esther and Gerald stayed on deck longer than the 
 others ; he had pulled up their chairs behind the shadow 
 of the music room, out of the glare of the sun and facing 
 the open pathway of the sea that lay in front of them. 
 
 " I hate seeing land dropping out of sight behind a 
 ship," he explained to Esther. " We will sit and look at 
 Bombay on our way back, but for the present I am all for 
 England." 
 
 " Yes," said Esther ; the shadow of restraint that had 
 been on her ever since the night of their marriage seemed 
 to have left her for the minute ; she leant forward in her 
 chair putting her hand on his knee, laughing a little 
 perplexed laugh. " England, and you and I, how strange 
 it seems." 
 
 " I think," said Gerald ; he took courage to place his 
 hand on hers, and inwardly his heart shouted for joy, " I 
 think it sounds just ripping, Esther, to hear you say 
 you and I.' " 
 
 His hand warm on hers, his earnest young face so near 
 her own, here lay her chance, Esther knew, the chance 
 her mother had so much longed she should have. If she 
 could only love him, only rest content with what his love 
 would mean for her. ^ 
 
 She let her hand lie under his, and silence, because
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 131 
 
 his heart was too full to speak and she was content to sit 
 quiet, held them. Then from somewhere quite near at 
 hand, the loud clamoui of the dressing-bell sounded, and 
 coming out of their reverie with a start they realized that 
 day was practically ovei. The sun, a great red ball of 
 fire, was sinking, frizzling it almost seemed as it touched 
 and dropped into the sea. The sky had changed to 
 purple ; here and there, in the quick coming of an eastern 
 night, bright stars shot out amidst its darkness. Esther 
 stood up. 
 
 " I suppose," she said, " we must go downstairs and 
 unpack something before dinner. We have been dream- 
 ing till it is quite late, Gerald." 
 
 " Yes," he agreed ; he stood up too, quite close to her, 
 yet not touching her. As she started to move away from 
 him though, the great restraint he had been putting upon 
 himself broke a little. 
 
 " Esther,", he whispered, and all his love and longing 
 sounded in that low word. 
 
 She turned at once ; here was her chance, as she had 
 realized from the first, let her take it and make the most 
 of it. The barrier of his or her making that had stood 
 between them was down now, his arms were round her, 
 she could feel, close up against her heart his own heart 
 beating fast and furiously. Her breath came quick, in a 
 little shaken sob. " Love me, Gerald," she begged, 
 scarce knowing the words she said, " and make me love 
 you, I am not strong enough without your love." 
 
 But even as he kissed the words of her pleading silent 
 on her lips, and his face shut out the rest of the world from 
 her eyes, some little imp of knowledge woke and snig- 
 gered in Esther's heart. " This will not hold you," it
 
 132 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 laughed quite clear and sharp, and through the glamoui 
 of the moment Esther knew the truth of its message. 
 "Jack and Mrs. Hamilton meanwhile having watched 
 the steamer till the faces on board her grew unrecogniz- 
 able, turned and making their way through the crowd 
 found their carriages and drove back to the hotel. A 
 telegram was waiting Jack in the hall, not a long message 
 but worded to the point. " Trouble in Bholpur, can 
 you come, McDermot." 
 
 " Nuisance," Jack commented and frowned ; " shall 
 have to go I expect ; what will you do, Marjorie, come 
 with me or go straight through to Calcutta ? " He 
 handed the telegram to her. 
 
 " Come with you, of course," she said, " even though 
 McDermot does not seem to ask me." 
 
 "Most probably hopes I will have the sense not to 
 bring you," her husband admitted. " I don't know that 
 he isn't right." 
 
 " I am coming anyway," interrupted Mrs. Hamilton ; 
 she slipped her arm into his. " I insist on the prerogative 
 of being blown up with my husband." 
 
 " If I thought it was a question of that you may be 
 quite certain you would not be allowed to come," laughed 
 her husband, " but as it is, come, I expect you are as 
 curious to see Ishaq Khan as I am. Wonder how he took 
 Gerald's wedding." 
 
 " So do I," admitted Marjorie ; then quickly for the 
 name had brought back Gerald to her mind, " I wish 
 we hadn't interfered, Jack ; I don't believe Esther is 
 going to make Gerald happy, I would much rather now 
 she had married Ishaq Khan." 
 
 " Nonsense and heresy all in one breath," remona-
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 133 
 
 trated her husband.' " As far as I know Ishaq Khan has 
 already twelve legal wives, and as for Gerald and the girl 
 they will settle down all right in time." 
 
 But Mrs. Hamilton's mind on the subject of Gerald and 
 Esther refused to be pacified so easily, and the reflection 
 that she had at least spoilt Ishaq Khan's game was bring- 
 ing her for the time being remarkably little satisfaction.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 ** By all ye ory or whisper, by all ye leare or do, 
 The sullen silent peoples 
 Shall weigh your gods and you." 
 
 B. Kipling. 
 
 11 ' I ^HIS is the way of it," explained McDermot ; he 
 JL leant a little forward in his long chaii tapping 
 the arm of it as if to emphasize his words. " I don't for a 
 moment anticipate any real trouble, Hamilton, for I am 
 prepared and if the worst comes to the worst can squash 
 it with a heavy ] hand, only I wanted if possible to do 
 without that kind of thing, and I played you as my 
 trump card." 
 
 " I see>" said Hamilton ; he nodded. The two men sat 
 in the verandah of the Residency smoking a final c^gar 
 before turning in to dress for the dinner-party McDermot 
 was giving in honour of the Hamiltons' presence. " And 
 the trouble is you think widespread ?" 
 
 " It has reached to every outlying village of the state," 
 McDermot assented. " All the men will be here to- 
 morrow for this religious festival, and should any one, 
 Ishaq Khan for instance, care to fan the flame, it may, it 
 probably would mean bloodshed before we could teach 
 them sense." 
 
 " What is your idea, then ? " asked Hamilton ; his 
 thoughts ran on Marjorie, on regrets that he had allowed 
 hei to accompany him into this. 
 
 134
 
 The Lur of the Little Drum 135 
 
 " Well," said McDerinot slowly, " Ishaq Khan is no 
 fool, that is what I am relying on more than anything 
 else. He will not risk failure. Your presence at ihe 
 fete to-morrow will at least show him that I am on the 
 look-out for trouble, and he will know that with us for- 
 warued is forearmed. If we can smooth over to-morrow, 
 get the people away from the priests and home to theii 
 various, occupations, then we can deal with the ringlead- 
 ers. You see that, don't you ? " 
 
 " Quite," agreed Hamilton ; he stood up. " The 
 watchword in the meanwhile then is, do and say nothing, 
 I gather." 
 
 " That is so ; " McDermot stood up likewise. " The 
 whole station is dining with us to-night. I hope Mrs. 
 Hamilton will not find it very boring." 
 
 As a matter of fact Marjorie was to look back on that 
 dinner-party as one of the most exciting she had ever sat 
 through. Without doubt the tension of her own nervea 
 produced that effect, for though Jack and McDermot 
 were more than careful to appear unconcerned before her, 
 she knew, as only a woman can know, instinctively, that 
 the men were facing trouble and glossing it over for her, 
 the woman's, benefit. She herself jrould do nothing to un- 
 deceive them, therefore she chatted tennis and the Shil- 
 long season to young Donaldson, laughed at Dr. Brown's 
 sarcasm, and listened smilingly to Miss LyalPs vague 
 remarks as to the weather and the scholars of the mission 
 school, feeling within herself as if all this light badinage 
 and laughter were, taking place on the edge of a volcano 
 or some equally uncomfortable spot. She was certainly 
 over-frightened and hysterical, for once or twice she 
 caught herself comparing the silent bare footed men-
 
 136 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 servants who waited at table to beasts of prey,, creeping 
 in circles ever nearer and nearer to those whom they 
 would ultimately devour. For the rest, she was bound to 
 admit that supposing all her fears were true the men of 
 the party were singularly and cleverly light-hearted and 
 careless about it. Only once did the conversation in any 
 sort of a way touch upon what might be the real reason 
 for the Commissioner of Police's visit to Bholpur. 
 Young Donaldson set the ball a-rolling. 
 
 " Risaldar Khan tells me," he announced, helping 
 himself to an orange from the dish in front of him, 
 " that things are just bubbling in the bazaar over thifl 
 festival to-morrow." 
 
 " If it is only a question of bubble," put in Lyall with 
 his usual intense seriousness, " it is all right. For my- 
 self, I could wish to see such festivals put a stop 
 to." 
 
 " Interfering with the liberty of the public, man," 
 remonstrated Brown. " It is impossible." 
 
 " And is it only a question of bubble ? " asked Mrs. 
 Hamilton her question was addressed to young Donald- 
 son, but her eyes sought for the answer in her husband's 
 face. 
 
 " Bubble, not a bit of it," laughed Donaldson ; he was 
 a pleasant-faced, long-limbed specimen of the ordinary 
 English youth. " But it is difficult to take their revol- 
 ver practice and revolutionary announcements seriously. 
 Ra Chandra's latest move is a bomb manufactory in the 
 back garden ; rum old fish, Ra Chandra." 
 
 McDermot caught Hamilton's eye and pushed back 
 his chair. 
 
 " Shall we make a move out on to the verandah," he
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 1ST 
 
 suggested. " We men will accompany the ladies, with 
 their permission, and bring our smokes with us." 
 
 " Good idea ; " Brown turned to Mrs. Hamilton. " AM 
 a rule, he said, " my life here consists of bed, breakfast, 
 tennis, dinner and bed, with only McDermot and Donald- 
 son's faces to lighten the gloom. You are a perfect god- 
 send to me, Mrs. Hamilton." 
 
 Marjorie laughed, and the party moved into the 
 verandah. The conversation did not again touch on 
 dangerous ground, McDermot saw to that, and punctu- 
 ally at eleven little Miss Lyall rose to say good-night. 
 
 " We will meet to-morrow, I suppose," she said to Mrs. 
 Hamilton. " You will be going, will you not, to watch 
 the procession from Prince Ishaq Khan's pavilion ? " 
 
 " The wife hates those sort of shows," Hamilton put 
 in. " I am going to persuade her to spend the day rest- 
 ing instead ; we had a long journey yesterday, and we 
 have another one ahead of us." 
 
 " Oh, but," remonstrated Marjorie ; she slipped her 
 hand into his arm as he stood beside her. " I am not 
 a bit tired, and I am just going to see everything I cal? 
 to-morrow. I am interested in this festival." 
 
 " We will see when to-morrow comes," argued Hamil- 
 ton, man-like defeating his own ends in his eagerness to 
 gain them, for Marjorie, even if she had not been quite 
 sure before, was now absolutely certain that the trouble 
 she felt in the aii was to be centred in this festival he was 
 so anxious to keep her away from. 
 
 She had her own way, as was but natural, and the next 
 morning at 9.30 sat waiting for Jack and McDermot in 
 the carriage that was to drive them to the palace. The 
 day was glaringly hot, the sun blazing down on a
 
 138 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 parched-up world of burned grass and dusty roads, 
 
 " It is almost a visit of state," explained McDermot as 
 they started, which remark was by way of accounting 
 for the splendidly attired out-riders who accompanied 
 the carriage, two riding in front, two bringing up the rear. 
 
 The shamiana erected by Prince Ishaq Khan for the 
 benefit of his guests stood on the raised plateau of the 
 palace garden overlooking the bazaar. They were above 
 the strenuous, noisy crowds ; and here, under the cool 
 shadow of enormous trees, carpets had been spread and 
 chairs arranged for every one's comfort. At the far end 
 of the shamiana stood a low dais on which was the 
 Prince's throne ; here, after the European reception was 
 over, he was to sit in state and receive the homage of the 
 native crowd. For the present, so the Resident and his 
 guests were informed, on their arrival, he was in retire- 
 ment, for since a very early hour in the morning he had 
 been assisting in the religious side of the festival. He 
 hoped, however, so Muzfat impressed on them with a 
 deferential smile, to be rested sufficiently to be able to 
 come among them for half an hour before the durbar 
 opened ; meanwhile, would they please look upon the 
 palace and its servants as theirs. 
 
 " You see," said McDermot ; he drew Hamilton a little 
 aside from the others. " Ishaq Khan won't see us ; he is 
 very clever, Hamilton, he won't show his hand till the 
 last moment." 
 
 " So it would appear," agreed Hamilton. He moved to 
 the edge of the parapet and stood looking down on the 
 seething mass of people underneath. The procession 
 had just widened out to give room to a mad dancing 
 figure, a holy man, coated from neck to heel in white,
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 139 
 
 paint, filthy beyond description, mad with some vile 
 drug. He pranced and capered and shouted, his long, 
 matted grey hair streaming round him, the crowd watch- 
 ing his efforts with admiring eyes. 
 
 " They are a nasty crew," thought Hamilton, and at 
 that moment his eye was caught by young Donaldson's 
 figure on horseback in the crowd, slim, erect, white 
 uniformed and businesslike. He pushed his horse here 
 and there trying to diffuse some order to the throng, and 
 the loathsome dancing figure came in for some sharp 
 words and an order to move on Donaldson being 
 acutely aware that the man's presence could hardly be a 
 pleasant object to the ladies in the pavilion. Hamilton, 
 watching the little by-play from above, was vividly 
 aware of the truth of AlcDermot's fears. Hate for the 
 white man, hate, cowed but none the less palpitating and 
 alive, was evident in the crowd's attitude towards the 
 young policeman, and it was almost 6 pity, considering 
 the inflammable material they were dealing with, that 
 Donaldson should be so young, so eagerly efficient in his 
 duties. Hamilton's eyes, even as the thought left his 
 mind, were caught and held once more by a peculiarly 
 arresting face in the crowd. A man, in the midst of 
 the swaying, excited throng, stood stiff and unmoved, his 
 eyes apparently fixed in an intent stare on the people in 
 the shamiana. Hamilton voiced his thought aloud. 
 
 " Strange looking chap, that ; " he nodded in the direc- 
 tion of the intent gazer and McDermot following his 
 glance spoke quickly. 
 
 " It's Ha Chandra," he said; " funny you should have 
 singled him out. It is the face of a fanatic, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Yes," agreed Hamilton ; once more his eyes met those
 
 HO The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 others strangely intent upon him from the crowd below. 
 " Your pet bomb maker, isn't he, yet it is not a bad face 
 on the whole." 
 
 " It is not a bad man, either," McDermot answered 
 slowly, " but Brown is always certain he will do some 
 damage one of these days." 
 
 At half -past twelve punctually IshaqKhan, splendid in 
 all his robes of state, and with mace bearers in atten- 
 dance, came out of the Palace and stood for a few min- 
 utes bowing in acknowledgment of the tumultuous wel- 
 come thrown him from the crowd below, then he turned 
 to welcome his English guests. 
 
 As Hamilton had said during one of his arguments to 
 persuade Marjorie to stay away from the function, " It 
 will be very awkward for ' you to have to meet Ishaq 
 Khan." It was awkward, that she was bound to admit, 
 but the embarrassment great as it was, lay all on her 
 side. Prince Ishaq Khan's face was untroubled, his 
 smiling welcome unaltered ; she met his eyes, only for a 
 second, they were blank, listless, almost as if he failed to 
 recognize her. There was something very complete 
 about his absolute ignoring of whatever memories might 
 have lain between them. To Hamilton he was more 
 than scrupulously polite ; his stay, so the Prince hoped, 
 would extend at least over the week end ; Ishaq Khan 
 would do himself the honour to arrange a shoot for Sun- 
 day. Hamilton smiled and shook his head ; he regretted 
 urgent matters awaited his attention in Calcutta ; this 
 was only a flying visit ; they would be off again to-morrow. 
 Prince Ishaq Khan was truly grieved ; perhaps some other 
 time ; he smiled slowly, and McDermot felt unreasonably 
 irritated by that smile.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 141 
 
 The ahamiana was beginning to fill up, the better class 
 natives of the town were being admitted to pay their 
 homage. Muzfat was at the Prince's elbow with a whis- 
 pered suggestion; the Prince agreed. Would his 
 English guests accompany him to the dais ; chairs for 
 them were provided behind the throne; they could 
 watch the crowds ; it might amuse them. McDermot, 
 with one swift glance at Hamilton, accepted for the 
 group, and still smiling, the Prince turned to lead the 
 way. 
 
 Hamilton, as guest of honour, walked at his right 
 hand, McDermot just behind with the ladies, Brown and 
 Lyall bringing up the rear. The little procession, with 
 Muzfat to announce their coming, moved slowly through 
 the, by this time, fast filling shamiana. The embarrass- 
 ment of the moment was still with Mrs. Hamilton ; her 
 cheeks were a little flushed, her thoughts a little agitated. 
 On the whole though, it had not been quite so bad as she 
 had anticipated ; Ishaq Khan, dressed in these long, flow- 
 ing robes, was so much the native, so far removed from 
 the English educated, Oxford trained man about town, 
 that the memory which she carried of him from that 
 scene in Shillong seemed almost absurd. 
 
 Still her thoughts were centred largely on that episode, 
 and for that reason, because she had for the time being 
 forgotten her fears of what to-day might bring forth, 
 surprise more than any other feeling was uppermost in 
 her mind when the procession came to rather an abrupt 
 pause. Fear only took hold of her when she heard 
 McDermot say a word sharply under his breath and step 
 quickly before her. At the same moment. Brown and 
 Lyall moved forward instinctively, the three of them
 
 U2 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 forming a sort of rampart round the women. She could 
 not see Jack, could not hear anything, for a Btrange 
 silence seemed to have fallen over the crowd. Instinct 
 told her to scream, to call his name ; breeding, that 
 something fine and strong that goes to the making of 
 English men and women, held her silent with tight 
 clenched hands. Eternity seemed in that pause ; Miss 
 Lyall. gave a little, furtive cry, and leant against her 
 brother, then, at last, through the stillness Marjorie 
 heard Jack's voice clear and distinct. 
 
 " By Jove, a near thing, Prince. I have to thank you 
 for your promptness." 
 
 And Ishaq Khan's reply, level and toneless. " I 
 regret the need should have arisen, Hamilton. McDermot 
 will tell you the man is an admitted fanatic but, so we 
 imagined, not dangerous." 
 
 Then the clamour of comments and questions held for 
 that pause in check found vent, and the air was full of 
 native voices arguing and explaining. McDermot 
 stepped aside ; his comprehensive glance took in the rigid 
 whiteness of Mrs. Hamilton's face. 
 
 " It's all right," he whispered to her ; " thank God you 
 didn't scream." 
 
 Marjorie hardly heard the badly worded compliment ; 
 her eyes were on Jack, and Jack meeting them came 
 across to her. 
 
 " Well, Marjorie," he said looking down at her, " did it 
 give you a shock ? I am still very much alive despite the 
 fellow's grudge against me." 
 
 Every nerve in her body fought for self control under 
 his smile, and at last she could lift her eyes and smile 
 back, only Jack was near enough to see how her lips
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 143 
 
 trembled. He patted her band and still holding it in his, 
 turned back to Ishaq Khan. 
 
 " We owe the Prince our thanks, Marjorie," he said ; 
 " he fairly swung the fellow of! me." 
 
 Then it was that Marjorie's eyes had time to take in 
 the rest of the scene. Strongly held by four native 
 policemen stood Ra Chandra, his whole form shaken 
 with sobs, the large tears trickling down his face. The 
 native crowd had drawn a little away from this group, 
 but in the cleared space behind the prisoner a boy stood ; 
 he was undoubtedly some relation for he bore a striking 
 resemblance to the sobbing man but his face, as he held 
 his ground bravely, blazed with indignation, and if he 
 was quivering it wao certainly from rage, not fear or 
 sympathy. Opposite them stood Ishaq Khan watching 
 the proceedings with contemptuous, eyes. He answered 
 Mrs. Hamilton's stammered words of thanks with a stiff 
 bow. 
 
 " To this, more than to me, are thanks due," he com- 
 mented ; with his foot he pushed the revolver that had 
 fallen from Ra Chandra's hand. " Had this gone ofi the 
 first or even the second time, Mrs. Hamilton, nothing 
 could have saved your husband." 
 
 It seemed to Marjorie as if scorn rang in his words 
 more than gladness ; her eyes went back to the pitiful 
 figure of the would-be murjierer ; for some strange reason 
 here, where she ought to have hated, she felt only pity, 
 and towards Ishaq Khan instead of gratitude, she felt 
 hate and distrust. 
 
 Jack picked up the revolver with a smile. " Pretty 
 obsolete, isn't it ? " he agreed. Then he turned to 
 McDermot. " Your tame fanatic might be removed
 
 144 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 mightn't he, McDermot, the poor fellow seems a bit sick 
 of life." 
 
 The Resident nodded agreement, and at that moment 
 Donaldson, the news of the excitement having just 
 reached him, dashed in to take over affairs. He hurried 
 ofi Ra Chandra under a strong escort for the sake of im- 
 pressing the natives, though conscious himself of the in- 
 congruous spectacle they must present, armed law and 
 order in all its power and glory and one miserable, sobbing 
 criminal. 
 
 The durbar went on smoothly after that ; the crowd 
 paid its respects and dispersed silently. As McDermot 
 had said, Prince Ishaq Khan had been too wise to throw 
 in his lot with Ra Chandra, and his decisive action had 
 settled once and for all the course of events. There 
 would be no bloodshed in Bholpur yet .awhile, no need for 
 troops or rebellion. To-morrow the Police Commis- 
 sioner's presence would be removed from amongst them, 
 but he would carry away with him a shrewd idea of how 
 iron a hand it was necessary to apply to the governing 
 of Bholpur, and for the next few months at least sedition 
 would have to hide her head. So much had Ra Chan- 
 dra's action done for the cause. 
 
 Marjorie, perhaps, more than any one else, got near the 
 truth of things that night as she and Jack talked over the 
 events of the day. Much having been discussed and 
 argued, Jack, man-like, was trying quite uselessly, to 
 persuade his wife to take a lenient view of some one she 
 disliked. 
 
 " Well, any way," he remonstrated for the twentieth 
 time, " the fellow did save my life, Marjorie ; doesn't that 
 make him a little less black in your eyes ? "
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 145 
 
 " I can't help it, Jack," answered Marjorie, her head, 
 despite their many years of married life, was ridiculously 
 near his shoulder. " It isn't all ingratitude. I know 
 just as clearly as I know I love you, that the Prince 
 wanted you to die even though he saved you, far more 
 than the other man who tried to kill you." 
 
 And Jack had to be silent for McDermot, not more 
 shrewdly but with greater knowledge, had put forward 
 the same theory in his own private talk with Hamilton. 
 
 " The Prince saved you," he had admitted ; " a fine 
 action, Hamilton ; it might have been too late, but it 
 wasn't. If that revolver had not been obsolete I wondei 
 what our chances of escaping alive would have been, all 
 of us, I mean, not you alone. It missed fire twice 
 didn't it ? " 
 
 Jack nodded. " We were all too taken aback to do 
 anything for the moment," he explained. 
 
 " Yes," agreed McDermot ; he stood up. " Poor old 
 Ra Chandra," he rather inconsequently ended the dis- 
 cussion. " Another mad dreamer with a broken heart 
 and smashed ideals." 
 
 Which only goes to prove that McDermot as well as 
 Marjorie, though looking at it from a different point of 
 view, had seen for a moment behind the veil of Ra Chan- 
 dra'a tragedj*.
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 "Between the heather and the sea, 
 It's there I'd be." 
 
 THERE is perhaps nothing in the wide world quite so 
 beautiful as the heather-covered hills of Scotland. 
 What can equal their soft purple distances, their bracken- 
 covered slopes with the grey blue northern sky above 
 them ? The singing, sun-flecked burns that greet one in 
 their valleys or the wide calm stretches of lochs carry with 
 them a beauty that brings tears to the eyes, for they call 
 to the heart with that undefinable longing for the beauty 
 of this world which so often escapes us. It would seem 
 impossible to connect anything harsh and unlovable 
 with landscapes such as these, yet many of such glens 
 have been made hideous with the horror of wars, and 
 men, in centuries past, have reddened the bracken and 
 heather with their blood. She has been so well loved 
 and well fought for, Scotland, perhaps all that goes to 
 weigh in the scales with the love we give her to-day 
 and makes her hills and glens so all beautiful in the 
 eyes of every Scotchman. 
 
 The pity of it is that so many of Scotland's most 
 notedly beautiful spots are marred by the busy tourist 
 world which is conveyed hither and thither in noisy 
 smoke-belching trains and stea'mboats. But away
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 147 
 
 within the fastness of her hills there are still a few littln 
 known havens of beauty where a inotor-car would cause 
 almost as much commotion as a comet. 
 
 Such a spot is Glen Doone, a small yet wide scattered 
 village, thirty miles from the nearest railway, consisting 
 in all of the kirk, the minister's manse, the grocery estab- 
 lishment, and post office combined, and dotted on the 
 hillside, the whitewashed cottages of farmer and labourer. 
 The Hamiltons is the only big house in the neighbour- 
 hood, old Hamilton owning all the surrounding land, 
 shooting and fishing. Not that the last two mentioned 
 possessions were of much use to him. He was an old 
 man, the laird, and it was a long time since he had 
 attempted anything i.i the way of sport, but the property 
 had been in the family for generations and the shooting 
 and fishing were there and always to hand for Master 
 Jack and Gerald on their periodical visite ; Milton, the 
 gamekeeper saw to that. 
 
 The house, as the oldest villager remembered it and 
 as it still remained, stood grey and square in a cut out 
 plateau of the hillside. Not prepossessing to look at, 
 bat solid, well worn, comfortable. No trees stood near 
 it, no creepers had ever attempted to cover the walls ; it 
 was a large house with a surprising number of windows 
 both back and front. At night, lighted and warm inside, 
 it threw out a glow which could be seen from the far 
 side of the glen. The villagers were strangely proud of 
 that fact, the shepherds and such-like folk counting it a 
 beacon and landmark of home. Behind the stables and 
 gardener's cottage, to the rear of the house, the hillside 
 sloped up and up, purple where the heather wae in bloom, 
 green where the bracken triumphed. Low stone wallu
 
 148 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 ran its length instead of hedges, cattle and sheep browsed 
 there contentedly from year's end to year's end. In front 
 of the house, beyond the pebble drive, the hill slope 
 started again, and lawn after lawn fashioned to some sort 
 of a garden for here Mrs. Hamilton grew her roses and 
 pent many happy mornings pottering in search of weeds 
 ran down to the burn's edge. A clear sparkling burn, 
 with rowan trees dropping their wealth of berries into 
 its waters and a stepping stone crossing which led to 
 the path to kirk and post office. 
 
 Those stepping stones were a constant source of nerve 
 trouble to Mrs. Hamilton, and more than once had she 
 firmly threatened to give up going to church unless her 
 husband would have a bridge built. The thought 
 crossed her mind once more this afternoon as she stood 
 on the top plateau and surveyed her garden. Gerald 
 and his bride were arriving to-day, even now she was 
 waiting for the carriage to bring them, and the thought, 
 the expectation had made her a little nervous. She had 
 not been able to settle to any of her usual occupations all 
 day, and the garden and burn had had less than their 
 usual share of attention. Mrs. Hamilton possessed 
 one of those curious natures always excessively busy yet 
 never achieving anything. Time never hung heavy on 
 her hands, yet her life since the boys had grown up 
 and left home had been singularly void of any real 
 occupation. Her gardening was always a source of pain 
 and unnecessary work to the head gardener ; Annie, 
 the housekeeper, could have said the same of her mis- 
 cress's household efforts, but they kept Mrs. Hamilton 
 busy, cheerful, absolutely contented. She never opened 
 a book, never thought, it is to be believed, of anything
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 149 
 
 outside the family, yet she was an astonishingly good, 
 in a way very lovable woman. Of late years she had 
 grown a little stout ; sometimes the fact distressed her, 
 and when she remembered it she would make a point of 
 walking twice a day to the post office instead of once ; 
 her face, round and plump as a child's was almost un- 
 lined, just a little faded perhaps in colour, a little 
 wrinkled round the bland blue eyes. Her hair as a girl 
 had been very golden, now it was the colour of silvei 
 plate with the silver a little tarnished, and she always 
 did it in a plaited crown round her head. Her hands 
 were the prettiest thing about Mrs. Hamilton, they were 
 so soft, so white, so dimpled. 
 
 Her contemplation of the burn was only secondary, 
 really her eyes were on the road beyond the kirk, and at 
 the first sight of a little cloud of dust, heralding the 
 arrival of the carriage, she turned and with little flutter- 
 ing steps hurried into the house. 
 
 " John," she called, " John," her voice had a pecu- 
 liarly childish note in it, " be quick, John, be quick, the 
 carriage is just passing the manse." 
 
 She had to repeat her information twice before a dooi 
 opened somewhere in the upper regions of the house. 
 
 " All right Betty, don't get excited," a somewhat 
 cross voice answered. " I was looking for them myself 
 out of the study window." 
 
 So much admitted he had to smile, and as he joined his 
 wife in the hall he patted the agitated hands held out to 
 him. 
 
 " There, there," he said," you always did work your- 
 self into a fuss over the lad Gerald. He is not worth 
 half of Jack to my mind."
 
 150 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 Standing by his plump, young-looking wife, John 
 Hamilton appeared out of proportion tall and lank. 
 Rather forbidding, grave thin face, but if the mouth 
 was hard set with faint lines of ill-temper about it, the 
 eyes spoke truer for the man, great-hearted, if perhaps & 
 little impatient of other people's failings.* 
 
 Betty Hamilton at his last remark raised eyes well 
 nigh flooded with tears. 
 
 " Oh, John," she remonstrated, " and Gerald the baby 
 too." 
 
 " A baby grown up enough to take a wife it seems," 
 her husband reminded her. 
 
 Further discussion between them was stopped, be- 
 cause with a loud sound on the pebble drive the Hamil- 
 tons' stately equipage rolled up to the front door, and 
 quite before the pompous footman had attempted to 
 descend even, Gerald had flung out and up the steps. 
 
 " Well, mother," he gasped, choking the plump little 
 woman in a terrific hug, " Hullo, dad." 
 
 It was only right he should be so eager, so glad to be 
 back with them ; yet for that second, while she sat back 
 in the corner of the carriage, Esther had a horrible sen- 
 sation of being out of it, a stranger in a strange land. 
 The next moment, all laughter and bubbling talk, Gerald 
 was back again, handing her from the carriage, and she 
 was shaking hands first with a tall stern-faced man, 
 then with a little stout lady who put up timid arms and 
 rather ineffectually kissed her. 
 
 " My word, lassies but she is bonnie," Annie remarked 
 afterwards as with arms akimbo she stood and re-acted 
 for the cook, who had unavoidably been absent, the 
 meeting in the hall. "She is like nobody I have
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 151 
 
 ever seen, all pink and white and the gold hair of 
 her!" 
 
 " More BO than the mistress herself when she carne here 
 first ? " asked the cook ; cook was apt to be sceptical 
 as to Annie's opinion on most things. 
 
 " I should think so," retorted that worthy, " I saw 
 it just now, all free over her shoulders, when I took the 
 hot water in, it's, well it's like living sunlight." 
 
 To such flights of fancy cook could say nothing ; she 
 took refuge in a snort ; Annie had carried the day for the 
 time being, but cook reserved her opinion. 
 
 Upstairs in the large airy guest chamber, Esther paused 
 in the process of putting up the said living sunshine and 
 strayed from the front of the glass to look out of the 
 wide window fronting on to lawns and bum. The running 
 water carried no special message of cheerfulness to her 
 heart, the dim distance of hills and glens made her 
 shiver, their loneliness and stillness infected her if any- 
 thing unpleasantly. Gerald, bursting into the room five 
 minutes later, all glowing from his bath, found her still 
 gazing out of the window with disconsolate eyes. He 
 crossed over to her and putting his arm round her 
 rtooped to bury his face in the masses of her hair. Some- 
 times he thought he loved that gold hair of hers better 
 than anything else in the world. 
 
 " Well, wife of mine," he asked presently, " this is the 
 old home, how does it strike you ? " 
 
 " I don't quite know," answered Esther ; she moved a 
 little away from him. Generally she took all his affection 
 very impassively, md so far he had quite failed to note 
 that she never returned it. " It seems lonely, and " 
 he paused for a word, " dull," she ended then flushed
 
 152 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 quickly, as she realized the remark would probably hurt 
 him. " But it is beautiful," she ended softly. 
 
 Gerald did not hear the conclusion of her sentence ; he 
 was hurt at her words and he was trying at the same 
 time to see her point of view. The effort brought a little 
 perplexity to his heart ; once or twice since their marriage 
 he had found it a little hard to understand Esther, her 
 outlook on things was so different to his. On this occa- 
 sion, for instance, he could not have imagined anything 
 or any place being dull so long as Esther was with 
 him ; he had to push that thought aside in answering 
 her. 
 
 " It will be dull for you, darling," he admitted, drawing 
 her close into his arms again, " but we won't stay long, 
 just a fortnight, the old people will expect that, then we 
 will go back to London and put in a real good month 
 amusing ourselves. And, dearest, there is heaps to show 
 you and interest you in up here all my old haunts ; we 
 will take a day or two's fishing, shall we, just you and I ! " 
 his eyes were eager on her face. " The mater will love 
 you, and the dad is a brick though you probably won't 
 see much of him, and I I, Esther," he drew her with 
 him to the window seat and sitting himself, pulled her 
 gently down beside him. " I have thought and planned 
 and hoped to bring you here ever since I first met you. 
 I love the place, you see, those hills, that wind which 
 seems always full of the scent of the heather. I hoped 
 you would love them too, that they would take strong 
 hold on you. Am I being a sentimental fool ? " Suddenly 
 he slipped to his knees beside her, laying his cheek to th 
 cool freshness of her hands. " I hoped they would help 
 you to forget that other fellow," he whispered in rather a
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 153 
 
 jerky sentence, and though he did not Hit his eyes to look 
 at her, he was conscious" that her whole body stiffened at 
 his words. 
 
 The subject had not been mentioned since their mar- 
 riage, but thoughts are hard to kill, and once or twice he 
 had wondered. 
 
 Esther did not speak for a minute or two, then she 
 moved her hands away slowly and stood up. 
 
 " We shall be late for dinner, if we don't hurry," was 
 what she said, and went back to the dressing-table. 
 Gerald followed her ; having gone so far she could 
 hardly leave the question there. 
 
 " Esther," he said, catching at her hands, forcing him 
 to face her, " you must answer me. Are you still thinking 
 of him after all that has passed ? " 
 
 Esther's eyes met his steadily, the habitual mask of 
 reserve was over her face. " I am trying, Gerald," she 
 answered ; " don't make things too hard for me." 
 
 " But," he broke off sharply and turned back to the 
 window, hands clenched at his sides. " My God, it is 
 too awful, to think that you " that was what hurt him 
 most that she should have pretended all this time, asking 
 for all his love and giving nothing in exchange. 
 
 Esther watched his back ; she wished now that she had 
 hidden more of the truth from him, but his words, coming 
 on the top of a tiring journey, and a feeling of depression, 
 had touched her too much on the raw. Still it was 
 evidently no use trying to explain the state of things to 
 him ; it would only make him miserable and not help her 
 much. 
 
 " Gerald," she called softly and he turned at once to 
 her, his face white, the laughter wiped from hie eyes.
 
 154 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 " Dear boy," she said, and she moved slowly to him, 
 " denes it make you love me any less, are you going to 
 fail me just perhaps when I need you most ? " 
 
 She stood in front of him and her eyes were mar- 
 vellous. Gerald took a deep breath, his arms were 
 aching to hold her again, but he kept them firmly to his 
 Bides. 
 
 " No," he answered a trifle unsteadily, " it's all right, 
 dear, I shan't fail you, only I thought however I was 
 always a bit of a fool at thinking." He moved restlessly 
 away from her to the door. " Better be getting on with 
 your dressing," he ended, " I'll go down and keep pater 
 company till you are ready." 
 
 1 Dinner the fact was noticeable to all save Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton was somewhat of a forcedly cheerful meal. Gerald 
 was a little too eager to appear radiantly happy, Esther 
 was as usual very silent. There was not much in that to 
 cause surprise, the girl was probably shy, only John 
 Hamilton caught himself once or twice searching for 
 some other reason to account for it. He was not abso- 
 lutely certain that he liked the girl, though that fact he 
 was quite prepared to keep to himself, and he gathered 
 quite early in the meal that though Gerald loved the 
 very air she breathed, she had palpably no particular 
 feeling for Gerald. In a way he was sorry for his son. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton, the only one of the party serenely 
 happy, sat at the head of the table, her chair a little pulled 
 aside from the place that had been laid for her so that 
 she could continually put out a hand and touch Gerald. 
 He was her baby, would always in her eyes be a baby ; 
 she insisted upon his eating far larger helpings of his 
 favourite dishes than she apportioned to the other
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 155 
 
 two, and kept an anxious eye on the cream in case there 
 should not be a sufficient quantity left for him. She 
 had always held with making the boys eat ; if she had 
 done very little for their brains or morals in the far 
 back school days, she had at least always seen that their 
 little insidea were full, and she had given them a love 
 immeasurable, unchangeable, blind and absolutely 
 trusting. For the rest they had shaped themselves, with 
 John Hamilton to see to it that the shaping should be 
 clean and upright. 
 
 One uneasy twinge in the -course of the evening how- 
 ever, Mrs. Hamilton did have, but not till late that night 
 as she lay in her bed thinking over the events of the day, 
 did the conviction of what it might mean, grow on her. 
 Then she woke the slumbering John to inform him of the 
 astounding, not to be credited idea. 
 
 " She seems a little cold, dear ; did you notice it ? " 
 she asked. John was luckily a light sleeper and easily 
 roused. " I can only hope she loves the dear boy ; some- 
 times those very pretty girls " the suggestion ended 
 in a sigh ; she longed for John to contradict her, but he 
 didn't. 
 
 " There is a French proverb," he reminded her instead, 
 " which answers your problem for you. Gerald is 
 palpably very much in love with the young lady ; perhaps 
 he sometimes makes himself a little tiresome." 
 
 " John ! " In the darkness Mrs. Hamilton could feel 
 the shocked red creep to her cheeks. She blushed very 
 easily, Mrs. Hamilton ; love, for instance, was a word 
 that often caused her uneasiness there was a lot about 
 love that was just a little immodest. 
 
 Her husband chuckled at her shocked exclamation,
 
 156 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 and turned on bis side, preparatory to another seeking of 
 slumber. 
 
 " You used to get a bit bored with me," was his 
 parting shot, and one which Mrs. Hamilton was fain to 
 treat with a stiff silence.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 "Hush, on my lips I feel a ghostly kiss 
 I have forgotten ! oh, I lied, I lied. n 
 
 LIFE at the Grey House was dull, much duller than 
 Esther had ever even dreaded or than Gerald 
 had any idea of. For himself, that first evening of 
 disillusionment having been efEaced and Esther was at 
 some pains to entirely wipe the memory of her words 
 from his mind he was completely in his element and 
 thoroughly enjoying himself. Every day, after what he 
 would have described as a top hole breakfast, he would 
 sally forth in his oldest, most comfortable clothes, with 
 gun or fishing rod over his shoulder and a packet of sand- 
 wiches in his pocket, and tramp and slaughter for long 
 happy days with the sun tanning his face and the wind 
 blowing the mists of doubt and uneasiness from his 
 mind. Then home to late tea such a tea laid out in the 
 billiard-room 1 hot scones and tea cakes such as only the 
 Hamiltons' cook could make, butter and heather-tasting 
 honey. In the cool of the evening he would laze about, 
 or take Esther for a stroll through the wood that ran 
 parallel to the burn, or perhaps they would potter about 
 among the roses of Mrs. Hamilton's walled-in garden. 
 He laid the whole of his clean life and heart bare before 
 Esther in those days, and every telling, every shame-faced 
 
 157
 
 158 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 pause because she was too good to hear such things 
 pushed Esther further and further from him so it seemed 
 to her. She never spoke of her own life, of her people, 
 but that hardly mattered to him, for man-like, he was 
 singularly incurious as to the years in which he had not 
 known her. It mattered, however, more than a little 
 to Mrs. Hamilton. Mrs. Hamilton had been prepared 
 to love Esther, did love her in fact since the girl 
 was Gerald's wife, only she found it a little difficult to 
 talk to her new daughter-in-law, and instinct more than 
 any wisdom led her to know that it was Esther's reserve 
 that stood like a stone wall between them and any in- 
 timacy. 
 
 Once she did attempt to break down this barrier ; 
 they had on that occasion got a little nearer to each 
 other than usual. Mrs. Hamilton after a busy fruitless 
 two hours spent in housekeeping, had sought out her 
 guest and found Esther in the drawing-room sitting on 
 the floor, the large family album in her lap. There were 
 pictures in it of Mrs.' Hamilton as a girl, as a bride, as a 
 wife, one of her as a young mother ; and after that 
 emblematical of Mrs. Hamilton's life almost the book 
 consisted solely and entirely of Jack and Gerald. In long 
 clothes, in shorts, in sailor suits, in kilts, as babies, as 
 schoolboys, as young men. Mrs. Hamilton had a tale 
 for nearly every picture and in the telling she lost her 
 sense' of shyness with the girl, felt she was closer to her 
 than she had ever been before. It was a good opportu- 
 nity ; with the book on her lap open at the only picture 
 of herself with hei eldest as a very wee baby, Mrs. 
 Hamilton lifted her soft blue eyes to Esther's face. 
 
 " And you* own mother ? " she asked ; " tell me of her,
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 159 
 
 dear; you have lost her, haven't you, but she would be 
 very proud of you if she could see you now." 
 
 The girl's face hardened ; Mrs. Hamilton would not 
 have been able to define it as such ; she only felt herself 
 growing a little pink, as if she had inadvertently touched 
 on something unpleasant. 
 
 " Yes, she is dead," Esther answered ; she rose from the 
 floor ; her voice had been cold to start with, now some 
 unexplainable heat flamed into it. " I don't know if she 
 was proud of me or not, anyway she loved me." 
 
 It was almost as if she was speaking in defence against 
 Borne accuser. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton rose too, laying aside the book. 
 
 " If she was your mother, of course she loved you." 
 She put her beautiful little hands on the girl's. '* I have 
 always thought that is what the word mother must 
 mean, just love." 
 
 " Does it ? " asked Esther. " Anyway I would rather 
 not talk of her," she went on abruptly ; " there is nothing 
 to tell." 
 
 " I quite understand, dear," agreed Mrs. Hamilton, 
 though that was hardly truthful. " Perhaps I ought 
 not to have asked you, only I love Gerald so much and 
 I am learning to love you as Gerald's wife, it is not strange 
 I should be a little curious, is it ? " 
 
 " Gerald married me without finding out much about 
 me, you mean ? " asked the girl ; she seemed oddly on 
 the defensive. 
 
 " Oh no, indeed no," interposed Mrs. Hamilton not 
 without dignity, " he loves you and you love him ; for 
 OB there could hardly be anything else to find out.*' 
 
 " You trust him as much as all that ? " queried Esther
 
 160 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 ** Don't you, my dear ? " answered Mrs. Hamilton. 
 
 There the conversation dropped and never again did 
 |Mrs. Hamilton return to it. To her husband she certainly 
 [expressed some of her thoughts and he, seeing further 
 perhaps than she did, concluded that here no doubt was 
 reason enough for the girl's habitual silence and reserve. 
 It struck him as more than a little probable that Gerald 
 had been too foolishly in love to find out things ; still 
 the marriage having been accomplished, the only thing 
 ,to do was to make the best of it. He was very nice to 
 [Esther after that, for he saw how dull the days were to 
 her, and guessed how difficult it must be for her to amal- 
 gamate with Mrs. Hamilton. 
 
 , But even he failed to see quite all that that fortnight 
 |did to Esther's character. There are some natures to 
 whom excitement, the joy of new sensations, are almost 
 essential. She had nothing to occupy herself with in those 
 long days while Gerald fished or shot, nothing to think 
 of or plan over except thoughts that she hardly dared to 
 look at, memories of one moment in her life when the 
 whole world had swayed to the pleading of a man's evil 
 passion. And so it came about that instead of loosening 
 the chains as Gerald had planned to do this fortnight 
 merely strengthened and strained them. She was 
 longing passionately, before the end of their visit, for 
 India again, for a glaring hot sun on dusty palm trees, 
 for vivid blue skies, for the colour of the goldmohar, 
 the scent of the moghra blossoms. Some hand was 
 playing on her heart strings making them throb to the 
 faint-heard call of the tom-toms. 
 
 And all this, as was only to be expected, Gerald did 
 not see. If Esther seemed a little silent, a little unmoved
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 161 
 
 by all his worship, well she had always been that, she 
 had never in any sense of the word been a demonstrative 
 woman. It was sufficient for him that twice of her own 
 free will had she turned to him ; things were working 
 out all right he had no doubt ; one day she would really 
 love him, and that was worth waiting for. Meanwhile 
 he was occasionally a little concerned with the fact that 
 Mrs. Hamilton and Esther did not appear to have ver# 
 much in common. He ventured on the matter once, as he 
 and Esther took their evening stroll through the woods. 
 They had come to a clearing at the edge of the burn, 
 and Gerald had found a nice flat stone for Esther to sit 
 on with an adjacent tree for her to lean her back against. 
 He himself was stretched full length on the ground at 
 her feet and they had stayed silent for so long that an 
 inquisitive white-tailed rabbit emerged from his retreat 
 to inspect them. It was off, however, like a flash of 
 lightning as Gerald lifted his head to look at it. 
 
 " Rum little devils, aren't they, Esther ? " Gerald re- 
 marked; he drew himself up to a sitting position throwing 
 one arm across her lap and leaning against' her. " I 
 expect he thought we were both asleep. As a matter of 
 fact I have been thinking." 
 
 So had Esther ; the shadow of her thoughts still lay 
 across her eyes as she looked at him. 
 
 " Have you ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes ; " Gerald paused a second and bent his attention 
 on extracting a pine needle from his sock. " What is 
 up with you and the mater ? " he asked suddenly, lifting 
 his eyes to Esther's face. " She seems somehow shy 
 with you. I have never known the mater that be- 
 fore."
 
 162 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 " Perhaps," suggested Esther, " she does not like me, 
 there is no particular reason why she should." 
 
 " Rubbish," asserted Gerald ; " she would love you 
 just because you are mine," he asserted quite 
 frankly. 
 
 " Yes," agreed Esther, " at least I think she would try 
 to ; " she paused a second, her eyes looked beyond 
 Gerald's head to where the Grey House showed through 
 the trees. " Gerald," she broke the silence, " do you 
 know that all this time, both before and since out 
 marriage, you have never asked me anything about 
 myself," her voice dropped a little, " about my people, 
 didn't it mean anything to you ? " 
 
 Gerald looked up in surprise. " I suppose I haven't," 
 he admitted, " but why should I? I knew I loved you, 
 that was about all. Have you been thinking it was a 
 bit heartless of me ? Somehow you know I don't care to 
 think of all those years in which I didn't know you, that 
 is probably why I never asked. And Mrs. Bullock told 
 me about your people being dead ; were you awfully 
 fond of them ? " he asked, a little jealousy sounded 
 behind the question. 
 
 Esther stood up. " I don't think," she spoke slowly, 
 " tha,t it is in me to be awfully fond of any one, Gerald ; 
 but some day, if you care to hear, I will tell you about my 
 mother." 
 
 " Why that is nonsense, sweetheart," Gerald laughed, 
 getting to his feet and putting his arms round her. " You 
 are always wronging yourself by statements of that sort. 
 I know you better than you know yourself." 
 
 " Do you ? " asked Esther ; she turned in his arms and 
 faced him, her eyes serious. " One of these days I may
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 163 
 
 fall from your high ideal of me altogethei ; will it hurt 
 you very much, Gerald ? " 
 
 " If you did," said Gerald, " yes, but you won't. I 
 am not the least afraid of the threat." 
 
 Then they went back to the house hand -in-hand like a 
 couple of children, and Mrs. Hamilton watching from 
 her bedroom window felt that after all she was perhaps 
 being unjust to the girl ; if only she loved Gerald and 
 made the dear boy happy what did her antecedents 
 matter ? 
 
 That was the last evening of the young couple's stay 
 at the Grey House, and in honour of the occasion the 
 minister, his wife and three daughters were bidden to 
 dinner. It was a great event to them, and something of 
 an affair to Mrs. Hamilton. If Annie had not been in the 
 family a great many years she would have been com- 
 pletely bewildered by the various muddled orders and 
 counter orders she received in the course of the after- 
 noon. At a quarter to seven, rather agitated with her 
 efforts, Mrs. Hamilton retired to dress and all the guests 
 had been assembled in the drawing-room for quite twenty 
 minutes before she was ready to appear. Unpunctuality, 
 through sheer lack of purpose, was a fixed habit of Mrs. 
 Hamilton's, and one in no small measure responsible foi 
 the lines of irritability roiind John Hamilton's mouth. 
 
 Gerald, fully recognising the symptoms of his father's 
 frowning and constant glance at the clock, did his best to 
 gloss over matters by an animated flow of conversation 
 to the three Miss Macdonalds. He had in pfast days 
 of boyhood had a not more than usually fleeting affec- 
 tion for the second, who sat now between her two sisters 
 alike in dress and deportment. All three were 
 
 rigidly
 
 164 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 clothed in white very modestly, by which Mrs. Macdonald 
 meant bulkily, their three faces were equally pink and 
 white, their features not obtrusive, their fair hair un- 
 becomingly strained back to the nape of their necks. 
 They had honest patient eyes, from which no amount of 
 unbecoming dressing could remove the youth, and they 
 all three stared intently at Esther. And if the second 
 Miss Macdonald's pillow was wet with tears that night, 
 there was no bewilderment behind the sorrow ; Gerald 
 had always been somewhat of a god to her, what more 
 natural than that he should wed with a goddess. 
 
 After a quarter of an hour's wait Gerald suggested in a 
 whispered aside to Esther that she might possibly be 
 able to hasten matters upstairs. The success of her 
 mission she rather doubted, but she was glad enough 
 to go if only to get away for a little from the too com- 
 plimentary stares of the Miss Macdonalds. Mr. Mac- 
 donald she had taken a sudden passionate aversion to ; 
 he had red badly brushed hair, and lacked a great many 
 of his front teeth. He would eat his food disgustingly, 
 she felt sure, and the thought gave her a shiver of aver- 
 sion. 
 
 Her presence, as she had quite rightly guessed, was if 
 anything rather a hindrance to the completion of Mrs. 
 Hamilton's dressing, for a flow of explanations was the 
 immediate result. However the end was achieved and 
 still agitated and, by now slightly warm, Mrs. Hamilton 
 took her new daughter-in-law's arm and descended to the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 Esther as she walked into the dining-room with the 
 two younger Macdonalds, Gerald escorting the eldest, 
 whilst Mr. Hamilton piloted the minister's wife, could
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 165 
 
 hear Mrs. Hamilton deep in intricate apologies as to her 
 lateness. These occupied a large share of the dinner 
 hour, Mrs. Hamilton and her partner being the only 
 two who conversed at all, though Gerald put in an effort 
 manfully now and again. 
 
 After dinner, while the ladies waited for the men ir> 
 the drawing-room, Mrs. Hamilton and the four Mac- 
 donalds went over, for without doubt the hundredth 
 time, the family album, while Esther moved over to the 
 window. The blinds had not been drawn ; outside it was 
 still light, the burn shone like a little thread of white, 
 the glen looked far away and mysterious in a mid- 
 summer heat mist. Dinner had been just as awful as she 
 had dreaded, for Mr. Macdonald had sat opposite her, 
 and the slow champing of his toothless mouth had been a 
 horrible fascination for her. She found herself now 
 biting her lips, struggling with a wild desire to scream, to 
 fly from the room, to get away from all these deadly, 
 good, kindly people. 
 
 When the men came in, there was a little break up in 
 the group over the album, the eldest Miss Macdonald 
 sang, the youngest played, their performance was re- 
 peated several times. Then Gerald sang, one or two 
 camp songs to Miss Macdonald's accompaniment, each 
 effort greeted with a round of rapturous, if rather timidly 
 expressed applause. 
 
 John Hamilton joined Esther in the window seat. 
 His own bad temper had evaporated, and he was quick 
 to see that something out of the ordinary had upset her 
 usual restraint. He had from the beginning found her 
 -lace with its unreadable eyes an interesting study ; to- 
 night the mask of polite indifference was gone, the giri
 
 166 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 was nervous,, hysterical he thought, so he said nothing 
 only by his presence shielded her from the rest of the room. 
 
 "Here's a cheerful looking ditty," Gerald remarked 
 selecting a song from amongst the rest ; " haven't sung 
 it for years ; shall we have a shot at it ? " 
 
 " Is it one of those Indian Love Lyrics ? " inquired 
 Mrs. Hamilton ; " they are very wonderful," she ex- 
 plained to attentive Mr. Macdonald, "and Geraltf 
 sings them beautifully." 
 
 , A chorus of assent had greeted Gerald's suggestion 
 and Miss Macdonald had commenced to bravely struggle 
 with the opening chords of the accompaniment to " Less 
 than the Dust " when Esther leant suddenly across to 
 Mr. Hamilton. 
 
 " Don't let him sing that," she said ; for the first time 
 Mr. Hamilton thought he saw really into her eyes, they 
 were wide and frightened. "I can't bear it, I really 
 can't, not to-night." 
 
 He could see her hands closing and unclosing in her 
 lap and stood up abruptly. 
 
 " There is a vote in this corner against that song, 
 Gerald, my boy," he said casually, and he strolled across 
 to the piano laying his hand on the singer's shoulder. 
 " Esther doesn't like it." 
 
 " Doesn't she, by Jove ! " Gerald turned quickly to 
 the window, all contrition. " Then of course we won't 
 have it. Didn't know you had ever heard me sing it, 
 Esther." 
 
 He went across the room to her while Mr. Hamilton 
 tactfully intervened with a suggestion that Miss Vera 
 might play, since she was at the piano, his favourite 
 piece, "In the Shadows"
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 167 
 
 11 1 have never heard you sing it," Esther admitted to 
 Gerald ; she put her hand on his arm, " but I know the 
 song, and to-night somehow I couldn't bear it." He 
 could see her lips quivering. 
 
 " What is up, old lady, are you feeling ill ? " he asked 
 covering her hand with his. 
 
 Esther nodded. " Could I slip away ? " she asked ; 
 " would they think it rude ? It isn't anything really, 
 only I feel stupid and giddy." 
 
 " Hang what they think," answered Gerald ; <: I will 
 make our excuses, and come myself at once." 
 
 " No, please," whispered Esther ; she let him take her 
 to the foot of the stairs. " In the Shadows " was just 
 drawing to a close. " I would rather be alone for a little ; 
 you stay ! I shall be quite all right." 
 
 Gerald went back dutifully, but as might have been 
 expected the party did not last long after that. The 
 Macdonalds practically tiptoed away with hushed voices, 
 and full of Sympathy John Hamilton volunteered to see 
 them to the burn crossing, though that was really Gerald's 
 duty, leaving the mother and son alone in the hall. 
 
 Gerald's face was anxious. 
 
 " I hope she isn't going to be ill, mother," he said as 
 he bent to kiss the old lady. 
 
 " No dear, of course she isn't," comforted Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton. She waited a minute and blushed, which was lost 
 on Gerald, then she stood on tiptoe and ventured to im- 
 part a surprising suggestion to her son's ear. 
 
 His whole face cleared like magic, the eyes laughed 
 then softened marvellously. 
 
 " By Jove ! " he said, " do you think it can be that, 
 another ? "
 
 163 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 Without waiting for her answer, he turned and bounded 
 up the stairs two at a time. Outside their door he paused 
 though, and turning the handle very softly entered on 
 tiptoe. Esther was in bed, her hair, the golden hair he 
 loved so much, spread round her, he could hardly see 
 her face for she lay low in the pillow, but apparently she 
 was asleep for she made no sign as he knelt beside her. 
 
 The love in his heart was so great that it shook him 
 almost to tears ; with something not unlike a sob he 
 buried his face, his lips just touching her white arm 
 where it lay free from the frills of her nightgown. Esther 
 turned in her half sleep with some little murmured words, 
 and for the moment he was afraid that he had carelessly 
 wakened her, but she made no other sign, and he rose 
 presently and went into his dressing-room. He had 
 not caught the whisper from her sleep, if he had perhaps 
 he would not have understood it. 
 
 " The little drum," she had said, " some one is play- 
 ing on it, the little native drum.**
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 "Love must be largely taken for 
 better or for worse." 
 
 voiced his mother's suggested hope to 
 Esther after they had been about a fortnight in 
 London. Some unexplainable shyness had kept him 
 silent upon the subject till then, but that evening Esther 
 had herself owned to being tired and fagged out, and 
 instead of dressing up and doing a dinner and theatre 
 somewhere, they had dined quietly in their own rooms, 
 and afterwards had taken two chairs out into the little 
 balcony that ran in front of their rooms. Gerald had 
 smoked and read the evening paper while the light 
 lasted, and Esther had sat silent and dreaming beside 
 him, her hands idle on her lap. She had changed into a 
 soft, loose tea gown, and taken her hair down, for her 
 head ached and she had plaited it in one long, golden 
 plait, that lay over her shoulder. She looked very young, 
 Gerald, gazing up from his newspaper, thought, and 
 he was struck with a wave of contrition at what she might 
 have to go through in the near future. Then it was he 
 spoke of what his mother had told him, stammering a 
 little as he tried to make himself clear. It was met with 
 an instant and positive denial. 
 
 " I don*t mean to have children," Esther added ; hei 
 ,face on the sudden had stiffened, grown older. 
 
 " Don't mean to have children ! " Gerald echoed ; 
 / 169
 
 170 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 he made no attempt to keep the surprise out of his voice. 
 
 " No," said Esther ; her hands suddenly clenched, she 
 sat forward a little. " To me it would be repulsive ; I 
 hate the idea, sometimes I~ think I hate babies. Oh," 
 she turned swiftly to him, " I am shocking you, I sup- 
 pose ; you will not understand, but'to me it is physically 
 repulsive. When I meet a woman like that in the streets 
 or anywhere," her voice dropped, " I feel sick, just sick." 
 
 Gerald could see her shiver ; he did not in the least 
 understand her ; therein She was right, but he was not 
 shocked, only moved to a quick intense tenderness for 
 her. 
 
 " You would not feel like that to one of your own," 
 was all he said. 
 
 " Yes, I should," said Esther ; she sat up in her chair, 
 her hands tightly clenched together. " I will try and 
 explain, if you care to hear. The feeling dates from a 
 day in my life when I was about seventeen. I had a 
 funny childhood, Gerald, very much alone, growing up on 
 my own, and taking care of myself from as far back as I 
 can remember. Mother was always there, but a shadowy 
 person, I saw very little of her ; she liked me best when I 
 kept quiet and out of the way. I soon grew to know 
 that. I had strange ideas hi those far back days ; I 
 suppose my knowledge was gathered in a peculiar manner 
 and I knew no other girls to talk to, you must remember. 
 For instance, I thought oh for many years that 
 babies were a punishment sent by God to those who were 
 wicked. I used to pray at nights, ' God, I have been bad 
 but please don't send me a baby.' ' 
 
 She paused a second ; Gerald lent across and put hi 
 hand on hers; she let it stay there.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 171 
 
 " Then, one day," she went on more slowly, " it waa 
 when I was just seventeen, some one took me aside 
 and told me about life, about men and women,*' she ex- 
 plained gravely, and for a second she turned and looked 
 at Gerald. " They opened my eyes, took away my 
 dreams, the world as I had imagined it to be lay round 
 me like a broken picture. I could see no beauty in" 
 anything after that ; it was hateful, all hateful." She 
 rose, quickly moving a little away from him. " And 
 woman was the most hateful thing among the rest," she 
 ended, dropping her voice BO that he hardly heard. 
 
 Gerald rose and followed her, but he did not attempt 
 to touch her. 
 
 " Poor little girl," he said softly. 
 
 Esther turned, clinging to him impetuously ; he could 
 feel her slight form shivering in his arms. 
 
 " You won't ever ask me to have a baby, will you, 
 Gerald ? " she pleaded ; " I couldn't, really I couldn't. If 
 I thought it was going to happen," she drew a little away 
 from him and her eyes narrowed, " I should kill myself 
 rather than go through with it." 
 
 Gerald frowned slightly ; he thought she was being 
 hysterical, and sometimes he was afraid that Esther was 
 going to develop into an hysterical woman, the one thing 
 on the whole earth that he most disliked. Therefore he 
 tried to make his voice extra cheerful and sensible as he 
 answered. 
 
 " Of course, darling," he said, " things shall be always 
 as you wish, only I think when you have had time to look 
 at things sensibly you will see it in a different light. It is 
 not really horrid or repulsive, dear heart, it is just that at 
 present you have got at life from the wrong standpoint.
 
 172 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 I didn't know before that girls thought of things in that 
 light, but when you come to think of it I suppose it is 
 not unnatural that they should. Something wrong in 
 the system of bringing them up, seems to me." 
 
 A most philosophical remark for Gerald. Then he 
 drew her close to him again and bent to kiss her. 
 
 " After all," he whispered, his face close against hers, 
 " you have learnt not to hate me, dear, haven't you ? 
 Don't you think the rest will come "? " 
 
 " No," answered Esther passionately. " No." Then 
 she drew away from him and went back to her chair. 
 " Perhaps I was meant to be a bad woman," she said, 
 forcing herself to speak calmly ; " sometimes I feel like 
 one, and as if your goodness, yours ideas of me, would 
 stifle me, choke me with their virtue." 
 
 " For God's sake," said Gerald she was straining his 
 temper just a little, because at the back of his heart was 
 his own disappointment of which she had taken no 
 thought," don't'say those kind of things, Esther ; you 
 don't know what you are talking about and it's hateful." 
 
 " Don't I ? " flamed Esther ; suddenly she was angry, 
 angry against him, against his bland knowledge and 
 trust in her. She wanted to hurt him at that moment, 
 wanted passionately to see him wince away from the 
 knowledge of her life. She chose the readiest weapon to 
 her hand. 
 
 " Do you remember, Gerald, that woman last night 
 in the crowd as we came out of Daly's theatre. The 
 woman with the atrocious hat, the golden hair, the flam- 
 ing scarlet lips ? " 
 
 Gerald did remember and flushed hotly ; he had been 
 excessively annoyed at the time because the woman had
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 173 
 
 stared most offensively at Esther, and he had so hated to 
 think that Esther should be called on to see such a per- 
 son at all. 
 
 " What on earth has she got to do with the discus- 
 sion ? " he asked. " Let's drop it, Esther." 
 
 His voice softened ; he was very much in love with her ; 
 he did not like to think how near he had been to quarrel- 
 ling with her. 
 
 But Esther's anger once roused had lesser forces to 
 quell it ; she stood up again and her voice was steady and 
 a little contemptuous. 
 
 " She has a lot to do with it," she said ; " she stared at 
 me because she recognized me, that's all. She was a 
 friend of my mother's. We, my mother and I, were of 
 her class, you see. That wakes you," she went on pas- 
 sionately, " doesn't it ? Now at last you know how vile 
 a thing ft is you have married." 
 
 The full sense of her words hardly reached his brain, 
 yet he tried to stop her. " Esther," he said dully, 
 " Esther." 
 
 Esther's anger broke ; the thing once out, she was sorry 
 for it. 
 
 " Why did you make me tell you ? " she said ; " I never 
 meant to, but you have always been so sure of me, so 
 certain I was all you imagined. Sometimes I could have 
 screamed it at you, yet I have always managed to keep it 
 back, and now you must hear it all. Mother died four 
 years ago," she went on speaking in a dull, quiet voice. 
 '* Died, as my aunt I suppose did not tell you, practically 
 in the gutter of some slum here in London. We had no 
 money ; for years " her voice broke a little " we had 
 ,been living a life eucii as you have never even touched
 
 174 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 on the outskirts of. Then she died, but before that she 
 had written to her sister, my aunt, who was out in India, 
 begging her to come home and take compassion on me. 
 As mother was dying she told me of her plan ; she wanted 
 me to have my chance, she said, the only good thing she 
 had been able to give me in my life. After she was 
 dead aunt came and took me away ; I needn't tell you 
 about all that, need I ? I went out to India and I met 
 you." Her voice dropped, he could hardly hear her 
 words. " You were my chance," she whispered. " I 
 
 I " Suddenly her voice broke in a sob ; she put up her 
 
 hands to her face and turned blindly to go indoors. 
 
 Gerald was beside her in a second ; he could not find 
 anything to say, but he took her two hands in his, and as 
 Esther met his eyes she knew to the > full how successful 
 she had been in hurting him. The knowledge made her 
 ashamed, more ashamed than she had ever felt in her 
 life, and she lowered her eyes quickly. 
 
 " It is true what I have said, Grerald, but not all of it. 
 I was trying to hurt you; I am not good, but I have 
 never, never been bad in that way." 
 
 " Dear, I knew that," Grerald answered. " I knew 
 it the moment you had spoken." He waited a minute 
 before going on ; Esther could feel his hands tightening 
 on hers. " It wouldn't have made any difference before 
 if you had told me ; it makes no difference now ; you be- 
 lieve that, don't you, Esther ? " 
 
 It was such a surprising way for him to take it, that 
 Esther lifted her eyes. 
 
 " You are good," she whispered, and at that moment 
 she was nearer to loving him than she had ever been be- 
 fore.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 175 
 
 " No, I am not particularly good," smiled Gerald ; he 
 was beginning to win back to the safe ground of common 
 sense. " I am a man ; and I love you ; after all love 
 wouldn't be of much worth if it couldn't stand by you 
 through thick and thin. So the matter drops there, 
 doesn't it, Esther ? I, at any rate, will never allude to it 
 again." He let go her hands and bethought himself 
 suddenly of a pipe, an ever present help in time of trouble 
 and just the thing he wanted to soothe his ruffled 
 nerves. 
 
 Esther watched him cross to the table, find his pipe, 
 fill it and light it ; her eyes were full of strange wonder 
 and something, softer, gentler than their usual expres- 
 sion. Gerald, his pipe well under weigh, glanced across 
 at her. 
 
 " You move off into bed, old lady," he said, " you are 
 dead tired ; I'll finish my pipe and come in later." 
 
 Esther turned into the room and began her undressing ; 
 half way through though she crossed slowly over to the 
 window and looked out at Gerald. She could see the top 
 of his head, the glow from his pipe, one hand as it rested 
 on the table. Swiftly and noiselessly, gathering her 
 petticoats round her, she slipped out and across the space 
 to him. He did not realize her presence, because he was 
 very deep in a somewhat sharp tussle with his own 
 thoughts, until he felt her cool soft cheek on his hand, 
 her hair brushing against his face. 
 
 " Gerald," she whispered, " thank you, and words 
 like that sound cold and stupid from me to you, but I 
 wanted to tell you that if I could have a son who would 
 grow into a man like you, I should not hate it, I think I 
 should be proud, and wonderfully happy."
 
 176 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 Then she had vanished back before he could turn and 
 hold her, and he sat on in the dark long after his pipe 
 had gone out, his heart full of a strange and wonderful 
 new hope.
 
 . CHAPTEK XVI 
 
 " Not law, not duty, nor the warning voice 
 Of saint or angel keeps Love's compass true." 
 
 LOVE is probably in the realms of romance it if 
 admittedly the greatest force in the world. It 
 can perform miracles and move mountains, metaphori- 
 cally speaking, yet it is practically powerless to alter 
 natures. That is to say that a great love may idealize 
 to the heart of the lover, the form and character of the 
 beloved it will blind him to her imperfections, dazzle 
 him with her otherwise undetected charms but it will 
 in no sort of way change her in any one else's eyes except 
 his own. In fact love can work all miracles in the nature 
 of the one who loves, but it has little or no effect upon 
 the one beloved. So with Esther ; though the sudden 
 rush of feeling and self-abasement which she experienced 
 towards Gerald on that evening of explanation was 
 undoubtedly genuine in bringing her nearer to loving 
 him than she had ever been before, it lacked the vital 
 force behind it. She did not, could not, so fate willed 
 it, really love him, and apart from love she could not 
 possibly havo found & character less in sympathy with 
 her own than his. 
 
 He was forever, and mercifully for himself, quite 
 unwittingly, irritating her the very placidity and 
 
 177
 
 178 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 evenness of his nature drove her sometimes to the verge 
 of hysterics. She had the same feeling of intolerance 
 towards him that one gets towards a dog who, all desir- 
 ous of pleasing you, is yet quite incapable of under- 
 standing what you want. They had, as may be im- 
 agined, no tastes in common ; Gerald indeed was not 
 difficult to please he had the healthy, typical outlook 
 upon life common to most men in the Service. He took 
 a keen interest in games of every sort, had something 
 that almost amounted to a passion for horses and dogs, 
 liked theatres musical comedies for preference, though 
 he was quite willing to be good-humouredly bored at 
 any sort of show and he had very few and very modest 
 opinions ; but the one or two which he did possess he 
 could admit of no argument over. He was not very 
 keen he would have described it thus himself on 
 reading, and he had an innate horror of sitting still doing 
 nothing, therefore as was but natural life in London 
 proved slightly irksome to him ; not that he ever voiced 
 or thought of it as such, only he undoubtedly had a good 
 deal of spare time which he unknowingly spent in getting 
 on Esther's nerves. 
 
 Yet on the whole that fortnight was the happiest time 
 they had had since their marriage. Esther did try, to 
 begin with, the fervour of gratitude being strong on her, 
 to enter a little more into companionship with Gerald ; 
 she was outwardly at least more affectionate and he, so 
 pleased with outward signs, was fain to imagine that he 
 had at last entered into his kingdom of her love. It 
 Tendered him, one may be sure of that, blissfully happy ; 
 so much should be entered to Esther's credit. 
 
 They .spent a month in town doing, aa Gerald
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 179 
 
 phrased it, the thing thoroughly while they were about 
 it. At first as he had sat smoking his pipe on the ver- 
 andah that evening he had been tempted to give up the 
 idea of theatres and such like things and go right away 
 into the country, just he and Esther alone; but level 
 common sense of which he had such a large share seemed 
 against so much recognition of an unpleasant fact, and 
 in the end he decided to leave things as they had at first 
 arranged. Let them go on as if nothing had happened ; 
 what Esther had told him should be as if it had never 
 been ; he wiped the memory of it clean from his mind, 
 only sometimes he would catch himself wondering, and 
 turning to look at the delicate outline of her face beside 
 him as their taxi would draw up at this, or that theatre 
 door, and the stream of passers-by on the pavement 
 would reveal for a moment, some tawdry outcast drift- 
 ing on her way with painted heavy eyes and set smile, 
 and the wonder always brought it with a throb of pain 
 to think that Esther's life should ever have tyiched in 
 contact with such as these. But the subject was never 
 referred to between them, and Esther herself seemed 
 quite unconscious or oblivious of it. She had her own 
 memories without doubt, but she kept them silent as 
 ever, and this London that she and Gerald saw together 
 was a very different world from the one she had moved 
 in with her mother. The drab outskirts of Soho touch 
 close on the glitter and splendour of the west end, but 
 the poverty and dirt and crime are unseen unless one 
 turns up into her slums off the beaten track, and Gerald 
 4 and Esther did no exploring. 
 
 There was one evening, however, which remained for 
 little while rather painfully fixed in Gerald's mind,
 
 180 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 because on that occasion he saw Esther for the first 
 time in his knowledge of her, swayed out of her habitual 
 calm by the force of some other personality. The shock 
 lay in the fact that she could be thus moved and that 
 he so far had not succeeded in doing it. They had been 
 to see a piece of Gerald's choosing that evening a 
 musical comedy with the usual star lady, who had been, 
 on his last visit home, rather a flame of Gerald's pretty 
 girls in the chorus, fat comedian and throaty tenor, that 
 is anyway how Gerald would have described him ; the 
 fellow could sing, that he was bound to admit, but 
 otherwise he dismissed him from the score of the even- 
 ing's entertainment. Not so Esther; Gerald looking 
 round at her after the curtain had gone down on the 
 tenor's final powerful solo in the first act, was surprised 
 to see her sitting forward, her hands clasped in front 
 of her, face slightly flushed, eyes shining. He had in 
 fact to speak to her twice before he caught her attention ; 
 then she^turned to him, and he was startled for the 
 moment by the vivid beauty of her face. 
 
 " Isn't he wonderful ? " she asked. 
 
 " Wonderful who ? " retorted Gerald ; he had an 
 insane desire to kiss her and was also aware of an un- 
 comfortable spasm of jealousy. 
 
 " That man," whispered Esther ; her eyes dropped to 
 the programme on her lap. " I won't look at his name," 
 she asserted. " I like to think of him as he is on the stage, 
 his voice just carries one into dreamland." Her breath 
 was coming a little fast ; Gerald fought manfully with a 
 desire to swear. 
 
 " You mean the hero chap, do you ? " he asked ; " sup- 
 pose he's all right not much to look at though, is he I
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 181 
 
 mean ? " he floundered a little by now being thoroughly 
 jealous ; " rotten profession for a man to take up, paint- 
 ing one's face and capering." 
 
 Esther looked round at him for a second ; the anima- 
 tion had gone from her face but her eyes were still wide 
 and starry. " With a voice like that he could make 
 you do anything he wanted," she said. 
 
 "Not me," answered Gerald ; his mouth set fiercely. 
 
 Time didn't permit of further argument for the lights 
 were lowered and the curtain up, but this time Gerald 
 paid scant attention to the stage ; his eyes were on Esther, 
 and under cover of the friendly gloom ne felt for and 
 found one warm soft arm. It gave him a thrill of posses- 
 sion the near touch of her, but just to-night, for this 
 second, he wanted more ; he wanted the heart and soul 
 of her and doubted his ownership thereof ; though as 
 he argued to himself it was clean ridiculous to be jealous 
 of an actor fellow like this. Esther was unconscious of 
 his hand, oblivious to his eyes, she was for the time 
 being completely under the spell of the singer's magic 
 and in the second interval Gerald, fearing for the control 
 of his temper, fled out for a smoke. 
 
 During the drive home, however, he was once more 
 forced to probe the question, but this time attempted 
 humour. " Well," he asked, " spell beginning to wear 
 off?" 
 
 Esther sitting far back in her corner of the carriage, 
 her furs pulled close round her, shook her head. " No," 
 she said, " I would like to go to-morrow and the day 
 after and the day after again." 
 
 " I wouldn't," grunted Gerald. He leant forward and 
 Act down the window nearest him with a jerk ; the taxi
 
 182 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 had just turned out of the noisy, busy thoroughfare of 
 Pall Mall into the park; great shadows of trees and 
 bushes and vacant spaces lay on either side of them. 
 
 Gerald turned to Esther ; he could hardly see her now 
 except when a passing lamp lit up for a second white furs 
 and face. " You don't really mean that, do you, 
 Esther ? " he said ; " it's just put on to rot me ; I admit to 
 being jealous, dear ; don't go on with it it hurts me." 
 
 " Does it ? " asked Esther, her voice cool and friendly. 
 " I am sorry. I wasn't thinking about you, I am afraid, 
 but I did mean it ; that man's voice well," she broke 
 off with half a little laugh " if he sang to me first and 
 then asked me to commit the worst crime you can think 
 of, I would do it ; I think it's a sort of mesmerism." 
 Her laugh ended in a sigh ; she lifted her arms letting the 
 heavy furs slip back. He could see a gleam of white 
 neck and shoulders. 
 
 " I don't seem ever to have mesmerised you," he said 
 miserably. 
 
 " No," admitted Esther ; she was silent a minute or 
 two. The taxi swung past Buckingham Palace out into 
 the streets again. " Sometimes I wish you could," 
 she went on ; " it would be better for both of us." 
 
 " Wouldn't it be the same if you loved me ? " asked 
 Gerald ; he turned to her eagerly, " and you do love me 
 now-a-days, just a bit, don't you, Esther ? " 
 
 " It's the evil in me that wants to be mesmerised, I 
 expect," said Esther. " There's something wild and 
 lawless in me that won't answer to love." Then she 
 laughed again and slipped out a hand on to his. " Never 
 mind, we won't go near this particular charmer again. 
 I give up even the idea of him to you ; are yon satisfied ? "
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 183 
 
 Gerald picked up the hand in his and touched his lips 
 to it. " I am a jealous fool," he whispered ; " but God, 
 if you knew how it hurt me to see you looking at that 
 fellow and realizing that you never felt like that for me. 
 I love you so much, Esther, sometimes it's hell to 
 think it all means nothing to you." 
 
 " But it means a lot," she contradicted quickly ; 
 " all the good in me loves you, Gerald ; the trouble is that 
 I'm not all good." 
 
 It was the next afternoon that they chanced upon 
 little Miss Thomas in the park. She would if possible 
 have avoided them for she had had her own share of 
 trouble in this world, and meeting Gerald's wife was 
 not an easy task for her ; but as it happened Gerald 
 caught sight of her first and sped across the grass to 
 greet her. 
 
 " Hullo, Miss Thomas ! You in London 1 What's up 
 with Shillong this year ? " 
 
 Little Miss Thomas gathered her shreds of courage 
 round her and faced him smiling, though the very 
 cheerfulness of his greeting sent a stab to her heart. 
 
 " It must be deserted, mustn't it ? " she said, " unless 
 of course, which is more than probable, there are new 
 faces and new scandals to take one's place. I go East 
 again in a fortnight though." 
 
 " Do you ? " asked Gerald, " so do we ; wonder if we'll 
 strike the same boat. Come across and talk to the 
 missis ; we have been asked to the Bholpur Christmas 
 Camp and she is puzzled as to clothes. You might be 
 able to give her some hints. Do you remember last 
 Christmas ? " 
 
 Did she remember last Christmas 7 Had he so com-
 
 184 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 pletely forgotten ? Miss Thomas glanced at him and 
 sighed, he was so palpably innocent of any memory. 
 However she followed obediently to Esther, and gave 
 her all the valuable information she could at that mo- 
 ment think of. It appeared that Miss Thomas was to 
 go out on the same boat as the Hamiltons ; she was also 
 on her way to join her brother at Rawl Pindi which was 
 to be finally the Hamiltons' station, so they parted with 
 the prospect of seeing a good deal of each other in the 
 not distant future. A prospect not all of unmixed joy 
 l;o Miss Thomas ; she had always, from the beginning of 
 their acquaintance, been conscious of a quite un-under- 
 standable dislike for Esther, rising principally in a strong 
 disappoval, and Esther as wife to Gerald she found even 
 more difficult to appreciate. 
 
 " Good sort, isn't she ? " asked Gerald, as he and his 
 wife strolled on after having said an revoir to Misa 
 Thomas. 
 
 " Yes," agreed Esther. " I wonder why you didn't 
 rnarry her," she added. " She would have been very 
 fond of you." 
 
 " Rot," retorted Gerald ; " anyway I was too busy 
 falling in love with you to even think of other girls." 
 None-the-less Esther's remark succeeded where Miss 
 Thomas's rather pathetic glances had failed. It woke 
 in him an uneasy memory of a past flirtation and the 
 season before he had been busy falling in love with 
 Esther. 
 
 That evening brought an excited, slightly unintelli- 
 gible letter from old Mrs. Hamilton, full of the Bholpur 
 shooting episode. " Some one has tried to kill Jack ; 
 it's very dreadful," she wrote. " It seems he would
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 185 
 
 certainly have succeeded if it had not been for some 
 native prince who interfered and saved Jack's life. Mar- 
 jorie does not appear to me to be properly grateful. The 
 man's name is Ishaq Khan, the man who saved Jack, I 
 mean ; do either you or Esther know of him ? " 
 
 " Marjorie not grateful ? What on earth does the 
 mater mean ? " snorted Gerald ; he handed the letter 
 over to Esther and could not forbear glancing curiously 
 at her face while she read it. 
 
 It told him nothing. Esther slipped the letter back 
 into its envelope when she had finished it and answered 
 his question. 
 
 " I should imagine," she said, " that Marjorie would 
 find it very difficult to see good in anything done by 
 some one she has once disliked." 
 
 " She is very loyal, if that's what you mean," answered 
 Gerald, rather warmly. "The same would apply to 
 any one ; if she loves you you can do no wrong in her 
 eyes ; but she would never be unfair." 
 
 " I dare say not," agreed Esther quietly. She stood 
 up. " I have had little opportunity of judging her 
 capacity for love, Gerald ; she does not love me, you see." 
 
 " That's nonsense." Gerald pushed back his chair and 
 rose too. " Sometimes I think you say a thing of that 
 sort on purpose to hurt me, Esther," he said. " You 
 know Marjorie has always done all she possibly can to 
 help us both of us." 
 
 For the second, anger flamed in Esther's heart ; it was 
 on her lips to answer, " What she did was done more 
 for hate of some one than for love of me," but she choked 
 it back ; what was the use of fighting with Gerald ? 
 / " She is very fond of you anyway," she said finally.
 
 186 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 " I think I am going to bed very early to-night, Gerald ; 
 
 I am tired and to-morrow there's that awful boat in 
 prospect ; don't wake me if you can help it, when you 
 come." 
 
 " All right dear," agreed Gerald. " I'll write a line to 
 mother and finish my own packing ; but I shan't be late 
 either." He came across the room to her. " Do you 
 hate the idea of India as much as you did when we left ? " 
 he said suddenly. 
 
 " What made you think of that all of a sudden ? " 
 asked Esther. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," answered Gerald. " I was re- 
 membering that last day in Bombay and how you said 
 
 I 1 hate it ; I never want to come back to it never.' I 
 just wondered whether it wasn't rather selfish of me not 
 to chuck the regiment and get something to do at home, 
 if you really felt like that about it. I want so much co 
 make you happy, Esther, to do the best I can for that 
 end." 
 
 A sudden fear waked in Esther's eyes ; she did not lif t 
 them to his. 
 
 " I don't suppose I knew what I wanted myself that 
 time in Bombay," she said ; " anyway it certainly isn't 
 what I feel now. I have been home-sick for India ever 
 since the first week in Scotland. Things are so grey and 
 oold here. I want the sun, the blaze of colour the hot 
 wind from the plains. Don't you feel like that some- 
 times, too ? " 
 
 " Can't say I do," Gerald had to admit ; " but I'm not 
 sorry to be getting back to work and polo. Well that's 
 all right, dear ; " he bent to kiss her. " My mind is at 
 seat ; I hated to think I was dragging you back."
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 187 
 
 Dragging her back. Esther brushing her hair out 
 
 C>O O C7 
 
 before the mirror in her bedroom, repeated the phrase 
 to herself and bent forward to stare at her reflection in 
 the glass. Her own eyes gazed back wide and restless ; 
 was there not something dragging her heart back to 
 India even at this moment, and that something quite 
 apart from anything to do with Gerald ? Was she afraid 
 or glad for the secret knowledge 01 merely ashamed, 
 just bitterly ashamed I
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 11 "V^ES, it may certainly be awkward," Jack Hamil- 
 X ton agreed. He stood switching with his riding 
 cane at the long grasses that grew near the opening of 
 the tent ; " but I don't see how we are going to avoid it, 
 Marjorie. It will look jolly pointed if we don't ask the 
 man, and after that affair at Bholpur we do owe him e 
 decent show of amiability." 
 
 Marjorie Hamilton, sitting at her writing table, glanced 
 up at her husband and sighed. Spread all round her ir 
 pleasant confusion were invitation cards and envelope? 
 galore, for Mrs. Hamilton was struggling at the moment 
 with the invitations for the ball which was to be given 
 at the break up of the Bholpur Christmas camp. 
 
 The social duties of the Bholpur Camp had for the 
 last three years fallen on Mrs. Hamilton's shoulders and 
 till this year she had thoroughly enjoyed doing it. It 
 was such a cheery, informal little gathering, the Bhol- 
 pur Christmas Camp, elephant rides and shoots, tennis 
 tournaments of a very mild variety, two dances, a ball 
 and, whenever nothing else was on, impromptu concerts 
 round the camp fire of an evening, and all this gaiety 
 crammed into a short ten days. This year, however, as 
 far as Mrs. Hamilton was concerned there was to be a fly 
 in the ointment, the fly in question being Prince Ishaq 
 
 188
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 189 
 
 Khan. Never before had he been included in the Bhol- 
 pur week, though the Resident and Dr. Brown were 
 always present, but this year Jack had suddenly decided 
 that he must be asked to the ball. 
 
 " If only Gerald and Esther were not going to be here," 
 Marjorie said presently, voicing the secret anxiety of her 
 heart, " I should not mind for myself a bit. I hate having 
 to be polite to him, because I don't trust him, but " 
 
 "*' Look here, Marjorie," Jack turned, " it's all non- 
 sense. I never knew such an old lady as you are for 
 remembering a grudge. Esther is a respectable married 
 woman by now ; do put that idea out of your head and 
 resign yourself to being nice to the fellow for once. I 
 honestly think we must ask him, so does McDermot; 
 it's politic, for one thing." 
 
 Marjorie sighed again and picked up her pen. 
 
 " Very well," she agreed^' I'll get the note sent off 
 to-day; I only wish there was a chance of his refusing. 
 I don't feel a bit happy about it." 
 
 " It will be all right, don't worry," laughed her hus- 
 band ; his point being gained, he cheerfully turned his 
 back on the subject. " I'll be back in time for break- 
 fast," he vouchsafed in parting, then he swung out of 
 the tent and Mrs. Hamilton could hear him shout re- 
 marks to the sais as he rode off. 
 
 The note in question having been written and ad- 
 dressed in her neat handwriting to Prince Ishaq Khan, 
 The Palace, Bholpur, Mrs. Hamilton moved out into 
 the compound, and calling for a chuprassi, dispatched 
 it forthwith, then, turning her attention to other mat- 
 ters, resolutely determined to forget her presentiments 
 yon the subject.
 
 190 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 The camp lay round her a wilderness of clean white 
 tents sprouting up under the skilful hands of the chup- 
 rassies, rather like giant mushrooms. There was the 
 big central shamiana, in which the ball and dances would 
 be held, looking already very important and gay, with 
 flags flying and a raised polished dancing floor ; round 
 it in order ranged the guests' tents, big tents, medium 
 tents, small tents, a network of ropes and pegs ; and 
 beyond again the servants' quarters, the kitchen camp, 
 the straw erected stables, the elephant lines. The 
 jungles of Bholpur made a splendid background to the 
 whole scene, and in front the ground had been cleared 
 and prepared, looking from a distance anyway like a 
 wide beautifully swept lawn an encampment, sprung 
 into being at a moment's command, to vanish just as 
 easily and quickly at a word ten days later. 
 
 The Hamiltons usually arrived a day earlier than the 
 rest of the party to settle things to a certain extent 
 before the week opened, and every time she witnessed 
 it, Mrs. Hamilton was compelled to admire the whole- 
 hearted way their army of domestics set themselves to 
 work to transform what was usually a jungle patch into 
 a habitable home and playground for the sahibs. 
 
 Gerald and Esther's tent she had arranged should be 
 next to theirs ; before going back to her own she slipped 
 across to it to see if it was all as comfortable as could be 
 wished. The young couple were arriving that morning 
 from England, and it was Esther's first experience of a 
 camp. Mrs. Hamilton was more than anxious that the 
 girl should like it. At the back of Mrs. Hamilton's 
 mind was the pressing desire to make real friends with 
 wife this time ; perhaps after four months of
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 191 
 
 married life Esther would find there was more in common 
 between them than there had been before. 
 
 The tent, anyway, could not have been nicer, Mrs. 
 ailton thought ; then she frowned for though she had 
 ordered just a few flowers to be put in, the mali had 
 Apparently let his fancy run riot and on every available 
 table and stand there were vases overflowing with great 
 cut branches of the flowering mohgra tree. The scent 
 was a little overpowering ; she would have called a servant 
 to take them away, but at that moment the sound of 
 some one arriving was heard outside and with just one 
 more quick glance round, Mrs. Hamilton hurried out to 
 receive the newcomers. The flowers were after all very 
 beautiful ; she would tell Esther to throw them away 
 afterwards and explain that they had been an uninvited 
 gift from the mali. 
 
 She said as much to Esther as she showed her into the 
 tent later on, but the girl expressed herself delighted 
 with the decoration, in fact her first movement was to 
 one of the heavily laden bowls and she stooped to bury 
 her face in the blossoms. 
 
 " I think," she said, speaking more to herself than to 
 Mrs. Hamilton, " that I have been home-sick for 
 the sight and scent of these, ever since I left 
 India." 
 
 Then she looked up, and seeing Mrs. Hamilton's 
 puzzled glance laughed a little. 
 
 " You can't think," she said, " how glad I am to be 
 back. England was so grey, so colourless ; I have been 
 longing for heat and colour." 
 
 Standing so, with the blue veil of her sun hat making 
 I shadow for her vivid hair, she looked surprisingly
 
 192 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 beautiful, but despite the laughter on her lips the chang- 
 ing eyes were not happy. 
 
 At that moment Gerald, having finished his instruc- 
 tions as to the luggage outside, pushed aside the chic and 
 entered. 
 
 " Oh Lord ! " he remarked cheerfully, flinging his hat 
 and stick on the nearest chair, " warm for this time of 
 year, isn't it, Marje ? Phew ! " He had just become 
 aware of the flowers. " Aren't those things a bit heavy ? " 
 
 " Yes," agreed Marjorie ; " I was telling Esther they 
 are the mail's idea of decoration, not mine, but I should 
 advise you to risk hurting his feelings and get rid of 
 them." 
 
 " Should rather think we would ; horrible stink they've 
 got." Gerald laughed and turned to the door. " With 
 your permission Marjorie, I'll order a long drink." 
 
 Esther had not moved; she spoke now, and Marjorie 
 fancied that a .rather tired contempt, sounded in the 
 voice. 
 
 " Gerald is BO English," she said, and she moved away 
 from the flowers, " every beautiful scent is a stink, and 
 the hot weather merely an excuse for a drink. I loved 
 the flowers." 
 
 " Well, dear one," Gerald called back goodnaturedly, 
 " if you like the flowers of course they shall stay ; I don't 
 really mind them." 
 
 He did not turn to look at her, but Mrs. Hamilton was 
 surprised to see the quick flush rise to Esther's face, and, 
 but for the fact that it was plainly ridiculous, she couM 
 have sworn there were tears in the girl's eyes. Sho 
 certainly spoke very hurriedly. 
 
 " No, no," she said, " they shall go ; you are quite right,
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 193 
 
 Gerald, they are far too strong." She moved rapidly 
 about the room gathering the flowering branches until he* 
 arms were full. " We will throw them away," she said 
 turning to Mrs. Hamilton, " where shall I put them ? " 
 
 " I'll call Mary Ann," Mrs. Hamilton volunteered. She 
 was a little worried at the whole scene. " She will take 
 them outside for us and I will explain to the mali he must 
 not do this kind of thing again." 
 
 Mary Ann removed the armful of blossoms calmly, 
 she also, in the absence of her mistress delivered a scath- 
 ing rebuke to the mali. 
 
 " Oh, naked one," she asserted, " what mad whim waa 
 this to fill up the memsahibs tent with such native 
 trash ? " 
 
 " 'Twas no whim of mine," retorted that worthy 
 gravely ; he kicked the drooping blossoms into a seemly 
 pile. " 'Twas a hookuin from the Palace folk." 
 
 Mary Ann's eyes widened, no surprise however was 
 permitted to show itself in her voice. 
 
 " Palace folk," she sneered, one firm eye on the mail's 
 bland countenance, " why trouble to lie to me, unworthy 
 one, since there is no punishment even for the deed." 
 
 " "Pis no lie," the other answered ; absolute uncon- 
 sciousness shone in the countenance he turned on her. 
 " This morning were the blossoms given to me, with the 
 news of this mem's coming and orders how they were to 
 be placed to greet her. "Tis some fancy of the Great One 
 in the Palace, upon whom be peace." 
 
 " Fancy," snorted Mary Ann ; she saw further and 
 knew more than the maii. " See to it anyhow that you 
 carry out no such orders again. Here we are not Palace
 
 194 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 Then she went off with an unmistakable swagger of her 
 full petticoats, but though no word of her information was 
 shared with her mistress, later on in the evening she 
 favoured Shahjahan with an account of it as they sat 
 at the tent doors waiting for their respective mistresses. 
 The telling left Shahjahan comparatively cold; he had 
 but little opinion of his new mistress and no respect for 
 women of any sort, but his feeling towards the Great One 
 of the Palace was emphasized in the vivid way in which 
 he spat after the name was mentioned ; he had a true 
 native's abhorrence for a fellow native who apes Euro- 
 pean ways. 
 
 The rest of the guests arrived during the course of that 
 day and the next, Dr. Crow among the number, eyeglass 
 and polished manner very much to the front. He bowed 
 over Esther's hand and managed to convey a wealth of 
 congratulation into his few words with Marjorie. He in- 
 sisted on regarding her as entirely responsible for what 
 he was now pleased to describe as a radiantly happy 
 marriage. 
 
 McDermot and Dr. Brown arrived rather late on the 
 evening of the second day, and to McDermot was de- 
 puted the task of taking Esther into dinner. 
 
 " Lucky dog," as Brown remarked ; " the most beauti- 
 ful girl I have ever dreamt of." 
 
 But apart from that, and her beauty it may be noted 
 would not affect the Scotchman very much, McDermot 
 was interested in Esther for a reason all his own. She 
 was strangely silent and difficult to talk to, he found, 
 but he was content himself to watch her. She was so 
 palpably inattentive and uninterested in what was going 
 OLI round her, McDermot was curious to know the
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 195 
 
 reason, his shrewd mind suspected something behind 
 her mask of indifference. 
 
 Brown on the other hand was more openly and intently 
 a victim. After dinner nothing would do for him but 
 that Esther should come and see the elephant lines by 
 moonlight, they were worth a visit, he insisted. Esther 
 went, a slight wrap thrown over her shoulders, and Mc- 
 Dermot, rather to Brown's disgust, accompanied them. 
 The elephant lines were certainly weird by moonlight ; 
 the great animals standing like immovable hulks, with 
 only here and there a huge ear flapping or a long snake- 
 like trunk extended. Esther stood silent for some time 
 watching them. 
 
 " It's very wonderful," she whispered presently. 
 
 " Wonderful," agreed Dr. Brown, " and a strange 
 wonder too, don't you think. I never quite like the 
 night in India," he bubbled on, " it gives me a sort of 
 feeling as if it was full of things I couldn't see." 
 
 " I love it," Esther answered, " just love it, the wondei 
 of it, the strangeness of it, the unknown." 
 
 McDermot moved a little so as to see her face. 
 
 " 'Umph ! " commented Dr. Brown ; from the ser- 
 vants' quarters the sound of a high-pitched man's voice 
 chanting reached them. " I am not BO sure about lov- 
 ing it, Mrs. Hamilton ; there you will find a kindred soul 
 in McDermot, he loves India better than anything else 
 in this world, I think." 
 
 " Does he ? " asked Esther ; she half turned towards 
 McDermot but she did not sound very convinced. The 
 , man's voice died away and in its place the slow throb- 
 bing of a tom-tom filled the air. 
 
 McDermot saw Esther shiver ; almost instinctively
 
 196 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 she turned to Brown again, her hand caught at his arm. 
 " What was that ? " she asked. McDermot could have 
 sworn her voice was tense with fear. 
 
 Brown took the hand she had given him reassuringly. 
 " That is some beastly native fellow making what he is 
 pleased to call music," he explained," did it startle 
 you?" 
 
 " The sound frightens me," said Esther. McDermot 
 could see her eyes straining into the darkness in the 
 direction of the noise. " I have never heard them so 
 close before." 
 
 " Haven't you," he asked, speaking for the first time. 
 " You should hear them at Bholpur sometimes," he 
 went on as they turned back towards the lights of the 
 tents, " round the Prince's Palace ; there they must have 
 a hundred of them going at a time. I have often won- 
 dered how Prince Ishaq Khan likes it with his English 
 notions." 
 
 " Ishaq Khan." Esther's voice was hardly a question, 
 it still held some note of fear. 
 
 "Our particular pet Prince," Brown interrupted 
 cheerfully. " McDermot and I, Mrs. Hamilton, are so 
 to speak bear leaders to the reigning prince of Bholpur. 
 Not that he needs much leading being a good deal more 
 of a society man than either of us. Have you ever met 
 him?" 
 
 " No, I have never met him," answered Esther ; they 
 had reached by now the lit-up space in front of the 
 shamiana. 
 
 " Then you will on Thursday week," put in Mc- 
 Dermot ; ht> watched her face as he spoke, " he is 
 coming to the ball that evening."
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 197 
 
 From inside the shamiana, a girl's voice could be heard 
 singing clear and sweet, every word very distinct. 
 
 " Dear, as you wonder, 
 
 Over peace and passion, 
 Searching the days to prove yourself untrue. 
 You cannot hide me, still in my own fashion, 
 I will come back to you, 
 I will come back to you." 
 
 " That is Miss Edwardes," Brown volunteered as the 
 song ended ; " nice voice, she has got, hasn't she. Shall 
 we go inside, Mrs. Hamilton, or would you like a chair 
 found for you out here ? " 
 
 Esther did not seem to hear him ; she had dropped his 
 arm and faced round towards the jungle again ; to Mc- 
 Dermot it seemed as if she was listening intently to hear 
 some sound break its silence, and he noticed at the same 
 time that the tom-tom had ceased. Brown had to repeat 
 his question before he got an answer. 
 
 " We will go in," Mrs. Hamilton said, " and will you 
 find my husband for me, I am a little tired." 
 
 In the week that followed McDennot found himself 
 seeing a good deal of Mrs. Gerald Hamilton. For one 
 thing, Esther did not play tennis or ride, and McDennot 
 for the time being happened to be hors de combat with a 
 bad knee. They did not talk much in the hours they 
 spent together, but a curious undefined friendship sprang 
 up between them. It fascinated him in a way he would 
 not have believed possible, to sit near her and watch her 
 face, the faint wonderful colouring in cheeks and lips, 
 the changing quick shadowed eyes. He learned to know, 
 Chough he was surprised at himself for the knowledge, just 
 tow the lashes lay when she lowered her eyes, the way
 
 198 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 ier hair grew in soft curls where it was brushed 
 from her neck. 
 
 Sometimes he spoke to her of India, of his love for 
 India and its people. It amazed him a little to realize 
 how much she understood of his feeling, but he never 
 spoke again of Ishaq Elian ; he knew she had lied that 
 evening in saying that she had not met the man and he 
 did not care that she should ever have to lie to him again. 
 Dr. Crow would sometimes make a third at their tete-d 
 tetes ; McDermot was not sure that h appreciated 
 the addition ; he had a feeling- that the little man and his 
 absurd eyeglass were taking stock of Esther, putting her 
 under a careful, keen-witted scrutiny, and his liking for 
 the girl, even though he was not aware of it himself, had 
 advanced far enough for him to resent that. 
 
 As for Marjorie, though she did not make very great 
 headway with her new sister-in-law, she was satisfied at 
 least to see how radiantly happy Gerald appeared, and 
 that, after all, as she constantly reassured herself, was 
 what really mattered. If she could not get any further 
 with Esther it was probably because there was nothing 
 to know in the girl. She was palpably a little stupid, a 
 great many very beautiful women are that was Dr. 
 Crow's explanation and Marjorie had perforce to rest 
 content with it. 
 
 The evening before the ball, she and Esther found them, 
 selves both making off to their tents and bed rather 
 earlier than the rest of the people, the younger and 
 more frivolous members of the party having voted for 
 games round the camp fire. 
 
 " We have got a couple of frivolous husbands, haven't 
 we ? " Marjorie asked, as they picked their way over the
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 199 
 
 various tent ropes. " I suppose Gerald is playing hunt 
 the slipper with the best of them, and I know Jack is ; he 
 said he would score off Misa Edwardes to-night or know 
 the reason why." 
 
 " Yes," agreed Esther, " the last I saw of Gerald was 
 showing Dr. Crow how to buck jump somebody off your 
 back." 
 
 Marjorie laughed. " They will be children still," she 
 said, " long after we have grown old. Come into my 
 tent, won't you," she went on half timidly, in her effort 
 at companionship. " I will send away Mary Ann and we 
 will have a talk. I have seen so b'ttle of you this week 
 and the day after to-morrow you will be gone." 
 
 It was too dark for her to see if Esther was astonished 
 and without waiting for an answer she turned and led 
 the way in. 
 
 " You and I have got to be friends," she went on, push- 
 ing forward a comfortable chair for Esther and sitting 
 down herself. " Gerald has always meant such a lot to 
 me, you know, more than a mere ordinary brother, and 
 you " . 
 
 " You have always been most kind to me," Esther 
 broke in. " If I have seemed ungrateful, indeed it is not 
 because I have felt it, only " she sat rather stiffly in her 
 chair and her eyes were lowered, " I am so hopelessly bad 
 at expressing myself." 
 
 Marjorie sighed impatiently, but checked it at once. 
 " My dear," she said, " I don't want you to be grateful, or 
 anything of that sort, I want you to like me." 
 
 " And you ? " asked Esther ; suddenly she lifted her 
 eyes : there was something of defiance in them. " Do you 
 /like me ? Oh, no, I shouldn't have asked that," she went
 
 200 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 on, and she rose abruptly from her chair moving away 
 a little. " I did not mean it ; you have all been so good 
 to me, so kind. You, and Gerald's father and mother, 
 and your husband. You have taken me on trust, haven't 
 you, for Gerald's sake ? " She turned round to face Mrs. 
 Hamilton. " Are you going to love me on trust for the 
 same reason ? " 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton had risen too ; she crossed over quickly 
 to the girl ; something in the half bitter speech had 
 touched her into a warmer feeling of compassion, of 
 understanding. 
 
 " We are going to love you for yourself," she answered 
 and slipped a hand into Esther's. 
 
 Then, because just for the second they had touched on 
 the raw heart of things and were consequently a little 
 abashed, and to turn the conversation, Mrs. Hamilton 
 drew Esther's attention to a framed portrait of Baby 
 Bobby that stood on the table near them. 
 
 " Do you think he is like Gerald ? " she asked ; " if he 
 had grown up he would have been very like him, I think, 
 that is what makes me so fond of Gerald." 
 
 It was very much letting Esther into her holy of holies, 
 but it is to be doubted if the girl realized that. She 
 bent away to study the picture. 
 
 " Yes, it is like Gerald," she agreed, her voice singu- 
 larly cold and unappreciative. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton put a sudden jealous hand on the 
 picture ; it was as if the careless voice had belittled it. 
 
 " You do not care for children ? " she said, and hardly 
 knew herself why the question rose so abruptly to he 
 lips. 
 
 " No," Esther answered ; she moved towards the dooi.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 201 
 
 '' I am afraid that is another thing we would not have 
 in common, I don'f like children." 
 
 It is hard for one's good intentions always to be ruth- 
 lessly brought up short. Mrs. Hamilton was aware of a 
 fresh feeling of antagonism springing up between her and 
 Esther, and with all the good will in the world, she could 
 not make her voice sound friendly as she answered the 
 other's " Good-night," and she was of course qiute un- 
 aware of the hot tears of bitter contrition that were 
 already blinding Esther as she turned to go. 
 
 So the two women, poles asunder in nature, were 
 swept yet further apart by Mrs. Hamilton's efforts at 
 friendliness, and the twinge of compassion that Esther 
 had aroused for one understanding second was to be- 
 completely swamped in the wave of rigid disapproval 
 which her last words brought to Mrs. Hamilton. As Dr 
 Crow was to testify to later on, a good woman, once con- 
 vinced of evil in others, can be as hard as iron itself to 
 their misfortunes.
 
 CHAPTEE XVHI 
 
 " The transient sorrow you cause me now 
 
 Will fade away in the distance dim, 
 But love is a God, and I wonder how 
 You will make your peace with him." 
 
 f I ^HE camp on the festive occasion of the ball bore a 
 JL striking resemblance to an enchanted grove. 
 From every available tree, Chinese lanterns hung and 
 twinkled, while the paths between the tents, and the tent 
 poles themselves, were all picked out in little coloured 
 oil lamps, a form of decoration at which natives are past 
 masters. Flaming torches indicated the principal 
 approach, and the shamiana had been transformed into 
 an open air dancing floor, with circle of soft lights for 
 the band and rows upon rows of swinging lanterns as its 
 only other illumination. So far the moon had not risen, 
 but later on she would be at her brightest and it was the 
 avowed custom at these Christmas camps to let the lan- 
 terns nicker out as the night drew to a close and to dance 
 the last few dances to the magical light of the moon. 
 Quite three engagements were expected to occur to-night 
 by the lookers on ; some excitement, a certain thrill of 
 expectation seemed to be animating every one, and to add 
 to the enchantment fancy dress has been voted on for 
 the ball. 
 
 Esther was representing the Spirit of Moonlight to- 
 night ; it was a dress she had brought from home with 
 
 202
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 203 
 
 her ; McDermot could not have explained it, but he knew 
 it to be marvellous, soft, white and shimmery, and his 
 hurried glance, as he came out after dinner to join the 
 ladies, quite failed to trace her anywhere among the 
 crowd. Gerald was there, resplendent as a Black Heart 
 Knight, Marjorie, looking very prim and sedate as Olivia, 
 Miss Edwardes, twinkling with bells as a Folly, numerous 
 Pierrots and Pierrettes, Cow Boys and Flower Girls. Dr. 
 Brown had selected a Viking as being most suitable for 
 himself and was feeling slightly ruffled at the humour hia 
 appearance caused. The person who occasioned more 
 mirth than any one else, however, was Dr. Crow. On a 
 hurried inspiration he had wired to Calcutta for a Julius 
 Caesar outfit, and he had insisted on donning the costume 
 despite the fact that the essential part of it appeared to 
 have been mislaid in the post. 
 
 McDermot who had made a point of being, quite 
 against his usual custom, early among the dancers with 
 the undefined desire of securing a few dances with Mrs. 
 Gerald Hamilton, found himself drawn into a group of 
 men who were passing judgment upon Crow's rig out. 
 
 " It won't do, old man," Gterald was remarking ; " we 
 simply cannot allow ypu to go among the ladies like that. 
 The Lord delighteth not, etc., you know." 
 
 Crow screwed in his eyeglass and devoted a pained 
 attention to his lower extremities, which were certainly 
 guiltless of any covering, unless the strapping of his shoes 
 could be described as such. 
 
 " The toga is all right," he explained carefully, " and 
 very fairly lengthy ; perhaps these Roman fellows didn't 
 wear trousers." 
 f " But yours, isn't a respectable kilt even," put in
 
 204 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 Donaldson, he himself most suitably arrayed as a Trouba- 
 dour. 
 
 " I can't help whether it's respectable or not," pro- 
 claimed Crow, " I Like it," he settled the wreath of green 
 bays more firmly on his head, " and I am not going to 
 dance ; I don't see why it shouldn't be all right to sit out 
 in." 
 
 " Take me where the gloaming lurks," chanted Gerald. 
 " If you promise not to dance, perhaps we will let you 
 pass. What say you, McDermot ? " he turned to the 
 Resident who had elected to appear in plain evening 
 dress ; " you look the most sober of us and therefore 
 most capable of judging ? " 
 
 McDermot laughed. " All the world has gone mad 
 to-night," he said ; " I am only a looker-on, not a 
 judge." 
 
 As the group broke up to let Crow pass, McDermot 
 became aware that the guest of the evening, and one for 
 whom he was in a sort of way responsible, namely Prince 
 Ishaq Khan, was arriving, attended with not a little pomp 
 and ceremony, at which McDermot was slightly surprised. 
 Not that he had imagined for one moment that Ishaq 
 Khan would come attired in fancy dress, all natives have 
 an inherent contempt for such a slackening of dignity, 
 but he had expected that the Prince would keep him 
 company and don ordinary English clothes. Instead of 
 which the tall majestic figure which followed slowly after 
 the bowing equerries was arrayed in all the splendour 
 of the state robes of Bholpur robes which were 
 centuries old in fashion and dating from the same period 
 as the flaming Bholpur jewel that flashed in his turban. 
 It was a strikingly effective entrance ; never had Ishaq
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 205 
 
 Khan looked so much a king, and for a second, McDennot 
 was angry that he should have chosen that night when 
 they themselves were rather at a disadvantage to appear 
 amongst them so regal. Then such thoughts were pushed 
 aside, for suddenly McDennot saw Esther. She had 
 just stepped into the circle of lights, and stood, her hands 
 at her side, her head a little thrown back, her eyes wide 
 on the advancing figure of Ishaq Khan. The lights were 
 caught and reflected in the moonstones she wore in her 
 hair, her face was white, her lips vividly crimson as if she 
 had bitten them till they bled, but what held McDennot 
 silent when he reached her side, was the look in her eyes. 
 Once he had seen a woman hypnotised against her will, 
 and she looked just as Mrs. Hamilton looked now, as she 
 waited for Ishaq Khan to come to her. In a flash all 
 that he had heard of the Shillong scandal came into 
 McDennot's mind, and instinctively he placed himself 
 between Esther and the Rajah. 
 
 " Mrs. Hamilton," he said, " what of our dances you 
 have given me no definite numbers which may I 
 have ? " 
 
 Over his head, for McDermot's proportions were 
 rather squat, Esther's eyes met those others, narrowed, 
 watchful and contemptuous; her voice when she 
 answered McDermot sounded like one talking in her 
 sleep. 
 
 " Dances," she said, " I don't think I am going to 
 dance to-night." 
 
 Marjorie and Jack had stepped forward to greet Ishaq 
 Khan ; he stopped to speak to them. 
 
 " Well then, what numbers are you going to sit out 
 with me ? " McDermot persisted. " What about this
 
 206 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 one to begin with, then we can settle the others in com- 
 fort?" 
 
 He offered his arm and Esther took it letting him lead 
 her away to two chairs outside the dancing radius. 
 
 " You are tired at the very beginning of the evening," 
 he said, watching her face in the shadows. 
 
 " Yes, I am tired," Esther agreed. She made no 
 further attempt at conversation. He took her card and 
 scribbled his name opposite one or two dances ; she 
 apparently agreed. What about supper ? he asked ; no 
 she was going into supper with Gerald. 
 
 The first waltz started and swung to its finish. Brown, 
 after a prolonged search, discovered their hiding place 
 and eagerly claimed his share of Esther's company ; they 
 had to move out into the lighted space again. Esther 
 was quickly the centre of a little crowd of partners. 
 
 McDermot wandered off in search of the card tent, and 
 a good deal later on in the evening, found himself at the 
 refreshment table with Dr. Crow. 
 
 " Toga been a success ? " he asked sarcastically. 
 
 " Quite, thank you," the other answered ; he drank ofi 
 his whisky and soda in a gulp and turned abruptly to 
 McDermot. 
 
 " Why the devil," he asked, " did you allow that pet 
 villain of yours here this evening ? " 
 
 " Pet villain," repeated McDermot ; for the moment 
 he was honestly perplexed. 
 
 " Are things uncomfortable," Crow went on, " or is it 
 my imagination ? " He put an arm through McDermot's 
 and led him back to the dancing floor. " What do you 
 make of that ? " with a nod of his head he indicated a 
 couple dancing just in front of them.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 207 
 
 McDermot frowned ; he did not like to see Esther 
 dancing with Ishaq Khan, but on the other hand he was 
 ire that it was any business of Crow's either way. 
 
 " You can't ask a man to your balls and refuse to allow 
 your women folk to dance with him," he answered 
 curtly. 
 
 Crow screwed in his eyeglass and surveyed him gravely. 
 
 " That is not what I meant exactly, he said ; then 
 catching sight of a possible partner he departed. 
 
 McDermot stood for a little watching the swaying 
 couples. He was more perturbed than he cared to admit 
 over Crow's remarks, and wished very ardently that he 
 had not backed up Jack Hamilton's desire to have Ishaq 
 Khan invited. He went into supper rather moodily on 
 his own, and it did not add to his enjoyment to find on 
 returning to the ball-room to claim hjs last dance with 
 Esther that she was nowhere to be found. 
 
 Gerald he ran into on his search ; the young man was 
 standing at one of the shamiana entrances staring into 
 the dark. 
 
 " Seen your wife anywhere ? " asked McDermot hi 
 passing ; " this is our dance. 
 
 " No," Gerald answered ; his voice sounded troubled 
 and a little angry ; he did not vouchsafe any further 
 assistance. 
 
 That waltz number drew to a finish, and the next ; it 
 was growing late ; one by one the lanterns on the neigh- 
 bouring trees and those lining the shamiana had flickered 
 and gone out ; a great yellow moon swung overhead 
 throwing grotesque shadows everywhere ; the forest of 
 Bholpur seemed like a black cloud on the horizon ; 
 Tinder her light the tents of the camp showed like whit*
 
 208 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 ghosts. The excitement which had been in the air at the 
 beginning of the evening, had intensified ; to the initiated 
 few it revolved round the prolonged absence of Mrs. 
 Gerald Hamilton and Prince Ishaq Khan. Marjorie's 
 face wore an anxious expression ; her eyes hardly ever left 
 her brother-in-law's figure as he moved restlessly about 
 from door to door ; Jack Hamilton looked, and was, cross 
 and worried ; Dr. Crow intensely interested. One or 
 two ladies, chaperons and lookers-on for the most part, 
 whispered the information to each other with a little 
 additional remembered scandal ; the larger proportion 
 of the guests were however happily oblivious ; one couple 
 more or less amongst the dancers could hardly be notice- 
 able. 
 
 McDermot, towards the close of the twentieth dance, 
 decided on a cigarette outside for himself, and lighting one 
 slipped away quietly in the direction of his tent; Sitting 
 out places had been arranged within a certain radius of 
 the camp ; he had gone far beyond the last of these, when 
 he was brought suddenly to a halt by the sound of some 
 one speaking in English. The voice, for on the instant 
 he recognized it, more than the words made him hold his 
 breath and. forget for the moment that he was playing the 
 spy. For the voice was Ishaq Khan's, low pitched and 
 strangely compelling. 
 
 "You had to come," he was saying ; " why struggle any 
 more ? the whole of you, heart, body and soul are mine ; 
 have you not known it all this long time, Esther ? " 
 
 That sudden name roused McDermot into a sense or 
 what he was overhearing ; with a quick intake of breath 
 he stumbled over a neighbouring tent rope and said 
 " Damn " as audibly as he could.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 209 
 
 In the pause that followed, while with a good deal of 
 noise he pretended to pick himself up and rub some in- 
 jured member, he heard close to him a sound as if some 
 one caught their breath on a cry of fear. Then a match 
 was struck and Ishaq Khan's voice, calm and unruffled, 
 asked if any one was hurt. McDermot as he lifted hia 
 eyes to answer, caught the shimmering whiteness of 
 Esther's face and figure before the light went out. 
 
 " Oh, it's you, is it Prince ? " he said gruffly, " thought 
 I heard voices before I fell over the tent rope ; couldn't 
 distinguish them, though. Hope, Mrs. Hamilton, you 
 weren't too scandalized at my outburst of language." 
 
 Esther moved a little away ; at this direct attack she 
 turned quickly. 
 
 " Oh, no," she said, her words a little hurried ; " were 
 you looking for me ; it is our dance, isn't it ? " 
 
 She had come over beside him ; he could just catch the 
 glimmer of the stones in her hair. 
 
 It was not his dance, nor was he likely to be looking foi 
 her in such a place, yet it almost seemed to McDermot 
 that an appeal had sounded in her question, and he rose 
 to it at once. 
 
 " Yes," he lied nobly, " it is our dance. I had almost 
 given you up in despair, but I am very tenacious when 
 I once want a thing. Shall we go back ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Esther ; he could feel her hand now on his 
 coat sleeve. " Good-night," she said ; it was almost a 
 whisper to the other waiting figure. 
 
 " urevoir, Madame," the deep voice answered, " and 
 if McDennot will make my excuses, I will not return to 
 . the shamiana. but go straight to my carriage, it nas been 
 waiting for me."
 
 210 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 McDermot fancied, though he carefully refrained from 
 glancing back, that the stately figure stood still watching 
 them till they were out of sight. He was too thoroughly 
 angry even to have answered the Prince's last remark, 
 and he and Esther said nothing to each other until they 
 were practically at the door of the shamiana and Gerald 
 could be seen making his way towards them. Then 
 McDermot turned to Esther. 
 
 " I don't know, Mrs. Hamilton, that it is any business 
 of mine, but it was hardly my fault that I should have 
 overheard something the Prince was saying as I came up 
 to you. I know the Prince almost as well as I know the 
 palm of my own hand, and he is not fit to touch or even 
 breathe the same air as you ; that is all I want to say, and 
 should you ever need help, will you remember that mine 
 is always at your service." 
 
 Why he added that last sentence he hardly knew, un- 
 less it was because somehow he felt as she stood beside 
 him that she was afraid. Then he turned with a cheerful 
 and amiable smile to greet Gerald. 
 
 " I found Mrs. Hamilton, as you see," he said, " and 
 claimed a dance or two in recompense for the one she 
 cut me. We were both of us a little too exhausted to 
 think of dancing." 
 
 Gerald hardly appeared to hear him ; he was too angry, 
 McDermot saw, to remember appearances, and he spoke 
 directly to his wife. 
 
 " If you are tired, Esther, hadn't we better be saying 
 good-night and going ? " 
 
 For a moment McDermot stood undecided between 
 them ; he wanted so much to protect Esther from her- 
 self, to show Gerald how stupid was the tone he was
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 211 
 
 taking up, but one glance at the boy's face, white and 
 stern made him realize how useless any interference 
 would be. He did the only thing that was left him to 
 do. 
 
 " Good-night," he said, taking Esther's hand, " and in 
 a sense good-bye, for Brown and I are oS back to Bhol- 
 pur to-night or rather this morning." 
 
 " Good-night," repeated Esther, and meeting her eyes 
 McDermot was struck once more with their curious 
 blankness. 
 
 " Good-bye, McDermot," said Gerald curtly ; " I don't 
 expect we shall put in an appearance again before you are 
 off." 
 
 McDermot stood aside to let them pass, then went on 
 himself to say his farewells and collect Dr. Brown for the 
 homeward journey. He was curiously depressed and 
 worried as at some impending calamity. 
 
 " It hasn't been a niee evening, has it ? " asked Mar- 
 jorie as she shook hands with him ; " somehow I feel 
 wretched now." 
 
 " You are tired, I expect," he said, " or perhaps there 
 is a trace of thunder in the air. Anyway it's the end of 
 our Christmas Camp ; most of us will have vanished by 
 to-morrow, shan't we ? " 
 
 "Yes," agreed Marjorie. She turned to look behind 
 her at the ghostly array of tenta and the black shadow of 
 the forest. " Nearly every one starts to-morrow after a 
 very early chota hazri, so as to put a march in before 
 the sun gets overpowering. There won't be even any 
 tents left by to-morrow." 
 
 " India is a quick-change artist, isn't she," agreed 
 ^McDermot ; " it strikes one truer here than in sleepy old
 
 212 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 England that saying of ours, here to-day and gone to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " You aren't very cheerful," Marjorie half laughed. 
 " I believe the wretched thunder or whatever it is, has 
 affected you too." 
 
 " Perhaps it has," he agreed, but that did not in any 
 sort of a way settle the matter to his own mind.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 Is it a gain to barter joy for shame, 
 Hope for remorse, desire for sated lust, 
 
 To prove that love is but an empty name, 
 To grasp at happiness and find it dust ? " 
 
 Hamiltons' tent was in darkness as Gerald and 
 A Esther entered, but Shahjahan, who had been 
 propped against the centre pole waiting their coming, rose 
 quickly to his feet and started lighting the lamps. He 
 had hardly lit one before Gerald stopped him. 
 
 " That will do, Shahjahan." Something in his voice 
 caused the bearer to turn and look at him. " Leave the 
 lamps alone and get out." 
 
 It was explicit enough, yet Shahjahan found himself 
 incapable of obeying at once ; he stood still instead and 
 went on staring. Esther had dropped into the nearest 
 chair and sat very straight and stiff, her hands in front 
 of her, her eyes wide and unseeing. Gerald stood near 
 her, his back to Shahjahan, but as he realized that his 
 order had not yet been obeyed he turned swiftly and 
 Shahjahan knew that he had never seen his master really 
 angry before. 
 
 " Get out ; didn't you hear me ? " Gerald repeated. 
 Hia words this time were tense with anger and Shahja- 
 han went. 
 
 213
 
 214 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 Then Gerald turned to Esther. Such hot fierce words 
 lay ready on his tongue with which to hurt her and make 
 her feel ashamed, and behind them his heart ached with 
 a throbbing, maddening pain which was driving all ten- 
 derness or reason from his mind. In the end, however, 
 he choked back his anger ; there instinct came to his aid, 
 and the fact that he was essentially a well-bred, self- 
 restrained Englishman. 
 
 " Well," he said at last, " have you anything to ex- 
 plain to me, Esther, anything to say, that would make 
 things easier for me to understand ? " 
 
 Esther lifted her eyes to his for a moment, as if what 
 she read there had answered some question she had been 
 about to put ; she looked away again quickly, and hei 
 face stiffened into an impassive mask of indifference. 
 
 " Nothing," she answered dully. 
 
 " Nothing ? " repeated Gerald ; he moved in front of her. 
 " Nothing ? You can sit there and answer like that af tei 
 what has happened ? Good God, Esther," his voice was 
 growing thick with all the anger he was trying so hard to 
 keep in check. " Don't you in the very least under- 
 stand what this evening has meant to me ; haven't you the 
 slightest feeling for me, or apart from that, any sense of 
 decency in your heart ? " 
 
 " I suppose not," Esther answered. She was curiously 
 immovable. " I don't understand myself, what would 
 be the use of trying to explain to you ? Only " her 
 indifference broke a little, she looked up at him, " it isn't 
 all my fault," she asserted ; " there is something outside 
 me, or inside me, that is stronger than I am ; I can't fight 
 it." 
 
 *' You don't want to, you mean." Gerald spoke
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 215 
 
 bitterly and he moved away from her. " It's damnable 
 that you should own yourself attracted by a man like 
 that. I suppose you would call it attraction, wouldn't 
 you ? I can't tell you if I could I suppose it would only 
 be a waste of time how unspeakably repugnant the 
 whole idea is to me." 
 
 " You knew about it before you married me," said 
 Esther ; she was pulling off her gloves, her head was bent. 
 
 " Yes, I knew about it then," Gerald went on, " but I 
 didn't know you. I thought, heaven help me, I thought, 
 you were so young, so pure, that the hateful evil of the 
 man was unseen by you, and that his position, his colour 
 even, and the fact that the rest of us were all a bit down 
 on him, made you sorry for him, threw a sort of glamour 
 round him. I don't know what to think now ; I can't 
 forget what you told me about yourself in London ; this 
 wretched business is driving me mad, for you can't 
 really love this native can you ? " 
 
 Esther had no answer for his frantic doubt. " I don't 
 know," she answered ; f ,here was something dazed in her 
 repetition of the words. " I have never been either young 
 or pure, Gerald ; perhaps I have never been any of the 
 things you imagined me to be." She stood up slowly, 
 her eyes turned to where a faint glimpse of purple sky 
 showed through the tent opening. " Perhaps, she went 
 on, her voice level and toneless, " I am really evil all 
 through as you are thinking me at this moment, and it 
 would be better for both of us if you could get angry 
 enough to kill me now ; do you think you could ? " 
 
 Her eyes came back to his. Gerald flushed hotly. 
 
 " Don't be a ipol," he spoke curtly ; " it is rather bad 
 style to say that kind of thing, and it hurts me, though I
 
 216 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 don't suppose that will affect you much. God, how you 
 have hurt me too." The colour had died from his face 
 leaving it white and strained. " I wonder if you will ever 
 realize how much I gave you, how much my life has been 
 built round yours. You have meant, since I knew you, 
 and before I suppose, just everything to me. I couldn't 
 kill you, Esther, I can't even kill my love for you." His 
 voice broke abruptly, rage and hurt pride were sv/amped 
 in a passion of disappointment ; he was very little more 
 than a boy and for the moment he knew himself to be 
 perilously near a breakdown. 
 
 Esther watched him pass her to the tent opening. The 
 quiet of the night outside, the glimpse of Shahjahan's 
 waiting figure, helped him to pull himself together ; when 
 he spoke next his voice was firmly under control again. 
 
 " I think I'll order the pony and go for a good long 
 gallop," he said. " We will leave things till the morning, 
 Esther ; we are neither of us game to discuss them now ; 
 it was stupid of me to have begun it." 
 
 Esther made no answer, but she took a little step 
 towards him which he did not notice, for already" he had 
 called to Shahjahan and was giving his order. 
 
 " Bring the pony round to the small tent," she heard 
 him say, " and look sharp about it, it won't take me a 
 minute to change." 
 
 Then without even looking back at her he turned 
 towards his dressing-tent and disappeared. 
 
 Then Esther spoke, but the words, though they 
 sounded in her ears like a shout were hardly above a 
 whisper. 
 
 " Gerald, Gerald, don't leave me alone, not just for 
 to-night." She tried to run after him, but her feet, BO it
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 217 
 
 seemed to her, were weighted with lead ; she could not 
 move ; so she stood and whispered her stupid unheard 
 message to the empty tent. 
 
 The Bholpur camp was early astir next morning ; 
 every one was departing, only the Hamiltons proposed to 
 put in another day just to wind up things and Dr. Crow 
 had elected to stay and keep them company ; he rather 
 liked travelling with such an important personage as the 
 Police Commissioner. 
 
 A good deal of noise and confusion is necessary in the 
 striking of a camp ; no one had much time to think of 
 other people or to notice 'who was absent and who 
 present. Shahjahan, for instance, was the only person 
 who knew that at ten o'clock his sahib had not returned 
 from his ride, and that the memsahib had not so far 
 called for her morning cup of tea, though the uproar go- 
 ing on all round must certainly have been sufficient to 
 wake her. Her silence, however, did not very much per- 
 turb him ; he was not, as has been mentioned , particu- 
 larly partial to Esther, but Gerald's prolonged absence 
 was beginning to cause him some anxiety. Shahjahan 
 had been with his sahib a good many years, and once or 
 perhaps twice, after a big guest night, he had certainly 
 had some little difficulty in persuading Gerald to go to 
 bed peacefully, but last night his sahib had not been 
 drunk, yet never had he seen him look, or act, as he had 
 done, for he had thrown himself on to the pony's back 
 and stuck his spurs ruthlessly into its sides, a proceeding 
 most unusual for Gerald, and one that the pony objected 
 to. No wonder Shahjahan was getting a little uneasy. 
 
 It was left to Marjorie however, to realize about hah* 
 through the morning that she had not BO far seen
 
 218 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 either Gerald or Esther. They could hardly have left, 
 because, though one or two good-byes had without doubt 
 been missed in the general excitement, they at any rate 
 would certainly not go off without a farewell. They 
 must therefore be taking a very late morning in bed, or 
 else perhaps with the memory of last night before him 
 Gerald was anxious for the rest of the guests to have 
 departed before Esther should put in an appearance. 
 In that case it was to be hoped that somebody had pro- 
 vided them with breakfast. 
 
 " Where is Gerald sahib's boy ? " Marjorie asked her 
 own discreet butler ; " have you seen him this morn- 
 Ing ? " 
 
 " Yes," Joseph had seen him, but by this time Shahja- 
 han, taking matters into his own hand, had sallied forth 
 with the missing pony's sais to find his sahib, and was 
 therefore not anywhere within call. 
 
 " I had better go across myself and find out what they 
 are doing," decided Marjorie, and went. 
 
 The camp, even so early in the day as this, wore a 
 singularly deserted and falling-to-pieces appearance. 
 All the English guests, with their retinues of servants 
 and ponies, had departed, the tents were one by one being 
 levelled to the ground, Jack and Dr. Crow superintending 
 the work. Marjorie paused a second in the young 
 Hamiltons' outer tent before calling to them ; she 
 noticed Esther's long white gloves lying on the table and 
 propped up beside them something that looked like a 
 note. She hardly looked at it, but in passing she saw it 
 was addressed in Esther's rather untidy writing to 
 " Gerald." The fact gave her a little shock of surprise, 
 but still no teal doubt dawned on her, till after repeated
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 219 
 
 calls she pushed aside the dividing curtain between the 
 two tents and entered the bedroom. It was quite empty. 
 For a moment she stood still staring, then it occurred to 
 her that after all the young couple had slipped off without 
 bothering to see her or Jack. She was about to turn and 
 go, rather hurt and a little angry at such an abrupt de- 
 parture, when her eyes were caught by the fact that all 
 the dressing-table things were still unpacked : Esther's 
 evening cloak lay across the back of the chair, the bed 
 had been unslept in, for the mosquito nets were untouched. 
 Like a flash Marjorie remembered the note she had seen 
 outside and a great fear descended on her. Without 
 waiting to investigate any further she turned and hurried 
 out to find Jack. 
 
 " I expect it is all right," Jack reassured her at the end 
 of her report. " Gerald has gone for an early morning 
 ride, Crow and I found out that at the stables ; he has 
 been out some time but I expect he will be back any 
 moment now, it's getting hot." 
 
 " But Esther ? " Marjorie repeated. " She hasn't gone 
 for a ride. Jack, can't you see what I am afraid of ? I 
 know something dreadful has happened." 
 
 " It's rum, certainly," Jack agreed, " but let's wait 
 till Gerald arrives ; he may have some explanation." 
 
 But Gerald when he did arrive was incapable of giving 
 any explanations, or even of answering any questions. 
 Hia coming was heralded by the sais, who a little later 
 in the day rode into the camp on a sore-pressed, badly 
 gored pony. He and Shahjahan, he informed the sahib- 
 logue, had found the chota Hamilton sahib lying dead 
 under the trees at the edge of the forest. He had appar- 
 ently been swept oS the back of the pony by the low-
 
 220 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 growing branches, and the animal, once free from those 
 maddening spurs, had come back to graze quietly beside 
 the body. There Shahjahan and the sais had found 
 them, and Shahjahan had stayed to guard his sahib 
 while the sais returned to tell the camp. 
 
 A rough stretcher was hastily made and Crow and 
 Jack started out at once. 
 
 " Keep as brave as you can, old lady," Jack said to 
 Marjorie in parting ; " after all he mayn't be dead, that 
 sais has always been an unutterable fool." 
 
 To Crow he said as they cantered away, " All the 
 same he must have been mad or drunk, that brother of 
 mine. Did you see the pony's flanks. They were raw 
 where the spurs had been rubbed in." 
 
 " Yes," agreed Crow. For once his eyeglass appeared 
 to be of no use to him. " I am afraid things look black, 
 Hamilton." 
 
 Gerald, 'however, was not dead ; he was suffering, so 
 Dr. Crow decided after a brief examination, from bad 
 concussion, having landed heavily on the outstanding 
 root of the tree whose branches had caused his downfall. 
 Luckily those same branches had shaded him to a certain 
 extent from the unfriendly sun, so things were not as 
 bad as they might otherwise have been had sunstroke 
 been added to the danger. 
 
 " He will be ill some time, I am afraid," Crow 
 announced as he rode with Jack behind the litter, " but 
 I have every hope of pulling him through. Shan't be 
 able to move him for at least three weeks though and we 
 will have to wire for a nurse." 
 
 That was the comforting knowledge given to Marjorie 
 as she stood waiting to receive them. Gerald was alive,
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 221 
 
 that was all she cared about, and until the nurse arrived 
 she had sufficient to do in looking after him without hav- 
 ing much time to waste on thinking of Esther. Later on 
 in the evening though Jack fetched her away from the 
 patient. 
 
 " There is something we three have to discuss and settle 
 before the nurse comes,'* he said to her. " Crow save 
 Shahjahan is quite capable of sitting by Gerald for a bit." 
 
 In the outer tent he turned to her, and without any 
 further words he handed her a letter whih she recognized 
 as being the one she had seen lying beside Esther's 
 gloves. 
 
 " Read it," he said, " it almost explains itself." 
 
 Marjorie unfolded the note with stifi fingers. She was 
 conscious, as she read the hastily scrawled words, of a 
 wave of hatred against the woman who had written 
 them. 
 
 " It is no use looking for me, Gerald," Esther had 
 written. " I am going of my own free will into a life in 
 which you can have no place or part. You said to-night 
 that you could not even kill your love for me. I am 
 doing it for you. You will not love me after this, but 
 will you at least believe that with you I leave all that 
 there was of goodness in my heart ? I am going with 
 Ishaq Khan." 
 
 Marjorie looked up as she finished reading the note. 
 
 " Have you both read this ? " she asked. Jack 
 nodded, meeting her eyes gravely, and Dr. Crow moved 
 a little uneasily. 
 
 " The bird has been swallowed," he said ; " it is a pity ; 
 at one time it appeared to me she had been saved." 
 
 Worry and anxiety about Gerald had pushed all other
 
 222 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 thoughts from Mrs. Hamilton's head ; she had forgotten 
 his parable about the bird and the snake. 
 
 " What are you talking about ? " she asked, " what 
 bird ? And anyway haven't you read the letter ? Don't 
 you see what she has done for Gerald ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have read it," Dr. Crow admitted. He paused 
 a moment picking up a small miniature of Esther that 
 stood on the table next him. " I was thinking just 
 then," he went on, " not so much of the brother-in-law 
 as of her. What will she make of life now, I wonder ? " 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton moved impatiently. " Does that 
 matter ? " she asked ; her voice was singularly hard. Dr. 
 Crow put down the picture and looked across at her ; 
 there was something like disappointment in his glance. 
 '" At any rate," Mrs. Hamilton continued, " it is surely 
 outside the question at present. What are we going to 
 do about it ? " She looked at Jack. 
 
 For a second he hesitated, then he glanced at Crow, 
 but the doctor's eyes were lowered; he was busy 
 polishing his eyeglass. ^ 
 
 " We have thought it out, Crow and I," Jack begun 
 abruptly, " and we have fixed on a plan that we think is 
 the best. It sounds a little mad, but we think we can 
 make it feasible. We are going to give out that she died 
 very suddenly of cholera. It will sound quite possible, 
 and we stand together all three in this. Burial is a quick 
 necessity after cholera. We had to bury her at once with- 
 out waiting for any ceremony. Gerald is of course off his 
 head with grief, that is how his accident occurred, Crow 
 can explain that to the nurse." 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton had to moisten her lips before she could 
 speak. " What of the servants ? " she asked.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 223 
 
 " They will talk among themselves," Jack admitted. 
 " In a case of this sort, where there is a native concerned, 
 it will go no further." 
 
 " And what of Gerald ? " The hardness had gone from 
 Mrs. Hamilton's voice ; it sounded troubled. " What 
 if he won't let it rest at that ? You know how much he 
 loved her, how obstinate he is." 
 
 Jack's eyes narrowed ; this affair had touched very 
 near the family honour ; he was full of resentment against 
 the girl who had thus dealt with their name. 
 
 " If the worst comes to the worst," he said, " Gerald 
 shall be told the same lie as the rest of the world. The 
 woman is dead in any case to him, even if she wanted to 
 come back, and I doubt if she ever will. Crow agrees 
 with me in this, don't you ? " he glanced again at the 
 doctor. 
 
 " I think," said the little man carefully, " that for his 
 sake and for your sakes the lie is certainly best. You 
 know practically how he will take the truth, and if he 
 attempts anything in the way of getting her back, it is 
 bound to be unpleasant. For her sake, well " his eyes 
 moved from Hamilton's uncompromising face to Mrs. 
 Hamilton's bent head, for Marjorie had sat down by the 
 table and for the moment had hidden her face in her 
 hands. " She hardly counts, does she ? " he asked. 
 
 " That is just it," Hamilton spoke quickly ; " nothing 
 that we can do will wipe this out. She is as good as 
 dead." 
 
 " Yes," agreed the Doctor, " as good as dead." His 
 eyes remained on Mrs. Hamilton. Lifting her head 
 suddenly she met them, and the blood flew to her pale 
 ' cheeks.
 
 224 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 i 
 
 She stood up abruptly, facing her husband. 
 
 " Jack," she said, " you can't do it ; don't you see you 
 can't do it. How could we leave her there ; how could we 
 lie, and lie to a love like his ? It would be terrible, it 
 would be wrong, wrong." Her voice broke, she put out 
 her hands impetuously. 
 
 Dr. Crow's eyeglass fell. He was glad, to the very 
 bottom of his heart he was glad that Mrs. Hamilton 
 had not fallen from his high ideal of her. Jack took 
 his wife's hands in his and answered her gently. 
 
 " You don't understand, Marjorie ; after all she went of 
 her own free will and she is probably quite happy where 
 she is. And what would be the use of Gerald fighting 
 this out with Ishaq Khan ? It is a crime, of course, to 
 run off with some one else's wife, but a crime only 
 punishable in the Divorce Court. Does Gerald want 
 a thing like this dragged through the Divorce Courts ? " 
 
 " No, oh no, but there must be some other way. Dr. 
 Crow agrees with me, I am sure ; he does not think we 
 ought to desert the girl." She turned eagerly towards 
 the other man. 
 
 Dr. Crow leant forward to flick his cigarette ash off. 
 " I think," he decided gravely, " we had better stick 
 to the lie." Then he stood up and his eyes met Mrs. 
 Hamilton's. 
 
 " But." Surprise sounded in her voice, she took an 
 involuntary step towards him. " I thought you 
 seemed Oh, I don't understand it all." Her hands 
 fell away. " You must do what you think best, Jack. 
 I can only leave it at that." 
 
 She turned and went quickly from the tent. Hamilton 
 looked across at Dr. Crow.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 225 
 
 " You think I am taking the right course, don't 
 you ? " he asked. 
 
 " Quite the most sensible one," Crow answered. 
 " Mrs. Hamilton will agree with us in a day or two ; she 
 has a very true heart, therein lies the present trouble." 
 
 In the inner tent Marjorie stood looking down at 
 Gerald's unconscious face ;.nd figure. The sight was 
 pushing aside the slight feeling of pity for Esther she 
 had experienced in the other room. 
 
 " Jack is right," she whispered finally, " she is dead. 
 She must be dead." 
 
 Then suddenly she shivered, putting up her hands to 
 her eyes as if to shut out some unpleasant sight. Per- 
 haps it was the memory of the picture of a mesmerised 
 bird evoked by Dr. Crow which she had just remembered.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 " The hope I dreamed of was a dreain, 
 
 Was but a dream ; and now I waki 
 Exceeding comfortless, worn and old, 
 For a dream's sake." 
 
 MISS DUNCAN, the nurse summoned by Dr. Crow, 
 arrived next morning. She was a cheerful 
 capable, Scotch girl, who very much took over the reins 
 of government as soon as she arrived. She was singu- 
 larly incurious about her patient, being too interested 
 in the case to worry much over the personality, and she 
 took her orders from Dr. Crow and carried them out 
 very thoroughly. Gerald had to be kept very quiet, 
 the tent darkened as much as possible. He was for 
 the most part unconscious, but sometimes towards the 
 end of the second week, for hours at a time he would 
 lie on his back, hands pulling and twitching at the 
 sheets, eyes bright and intent, staring at something 
 no one else could see. Sometimes he would cry out 
 loud, " Esther, Esther," and Nurse Duncan would lean 
 over him trying in vain to soothe the restless hands, to 
 bring comfort to the tortured mind. 
 
 " Poor dear young man," she would whisper in an 
 aside to Marjorie, " it is very tragic, now isn't it ? and 
 to think of her he loves cold and dead." 
 
 For, of course, Nurse Duncan had heard the story, 
 226
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 227 
 
 and it had not seemed in any sort of way strange to her. 
 Sudden death is an event of almost daily occurrence in 
 India, the present circumstances made it just a little 
 sadder ; that was all, and if she was sometimes a little 
 surprised at Mrs. Hamilton's unsympathetic attitude 
 towards the dead wife, she put it down more or less to 
 jealousy ; Mrs. Hamilton was so devoted to her brother- 
 in-law it was easy to account for it in that way. 
 
 At last, towards the end of the second week, Gerald 
 woke one morning, as the doctor had all along hoped he 
 might, sane and in his right mind. The wakening, as 
 was but natural, came slowly ; he lay for some long time 
 on his back, his eyes wide open, but making no sound or 
 movement. Nurse Duncan flitted in and out of his 
 range of vision noiselessly, she was tidying the room. 
 He placed her after a time, though at first her unfamiliar 
 face and figure brought the pucker of a frown to his 
 forehead. She was a sick nurse ; well then, some one 
 must be ill. Who was it, he wondered vaguely for a 
 minute, then sharp on the thought realized it must be 
 himself. Why had he been ill, where was he ? Slowly, 
 very slowly, the mists cleared off his brain ; he remem- 
 bered he had quarrelled with Esther, he had ordered 
 the pony and gone out. Esther, where was Esther ? 
 
 " Nurse," he called sharply, though his voice waa 
 hardly above a whisper, " Nurse." He made an effort 
 $o sit up. 
 
 Nurse Duncan was beside him in a moment, and at 
 the same time over her shoulder she nodded to Shah- 
 jahan who had been waiting just within the tent door 
 to go and fetch Mr. Hamilton. 
 
 " So now," she said, laying a quieting hand on
 
 228 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 Gerald's, " you are awake, but you must not sit up right 
 away ; you have been rather ill, you know." 
 
 " How long have I been ill ? " Gerald asked. " Where 
 are we ; how do you come to be here ? " 
 
 " Well, I am a nurse," she explained cheerfully, " and 
 this is your brother's tent. You have been ill three 
 weeks now, so you can't expect to be well all in a hurry, 
 can you ? " 
 
 Gerald's eyes wandered from hers ; he was feeling weak 
 and giddy ; sleep was surging to his brain again. But 
 before unconsciousness swept over him he must ask, 
 he must find out about Esther. 
 
 " Where is Jack, my brother ? " he asked. 
 
 Nurse Duncan beckoned to some one behind her and 
 slipped aside herself, but not far ; she had anxious eyes 
 on her patient's face. 
 
 " He is awfully weak," she whispered as Jack took 
 her place ; " tell him as quick as you can, there is no use 
 trying to put him off." 
 
 Jack leant over the bed; no doubt was ftj his mind 
 now as to what he should say ; his eyes met the eager 
 questioning in Gerald's gravely. 
 
 " I am here, old chap," he said ; " it is good to have 
 you recognize one again." 
 
 Gerald looked up at him. " Esther," he asked ; his 
 hands moved feebly, " where's Esther ? " 
 
 His brother bent a little nearer. 
 
 " Gerald, old boy," he said. " It has got to be faced 
 like a man. Esther was taken ill with cholera the night 
 of your accident. She is dead." His voice dropped a 
 little on the word. 
 
 Gerald echoed it dully. " Dead," he said, " dead."
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 229 
 
 Nurse Duncan moved quickly round to the other side 
 of the bed, slipped one hand under his pillow and held 
 something in a medicine glass to his lips. 
 
 " Drink," her voice broke the spell of tragedy, " you 
 must drink this." 
 
 And Gerald, instinctively obedient to the note of 
 command in her voice, drank. Then his eyes closed 
 and wave upon wave of sleep surged against his brain* 
 He was falling, he felt, through vast spaces ; nothing 
 mattered very much if they would leave him alone and 
 not wake him, let sleep just lap him round. Nurse 
 Duncan whispered to Jack Hamilton to go. 
 
 " He'll sleep again for a bit," she explained, " but 
 you might ask Dr. Crow to look in, he had better be here 
 when my patient wakes." 
 
 And Gerald slept ; presently the heaviness lifted a 
 little, dreams stirred across his brain. He and Esther 
 were together in the gardens at home and Esther was 
 laughing ; then, though he turned and^held her with all 
 his strength, she slipped from him, and he could no more 
 see or feel her, but still he could hear her laughter. 
 Suddenly the sound of it turned to tears, and so moved 
 him to anger, because he could not reach or comfort 
 her, that he woke, and waking, full knowledge rushed 
 upon him and he had to hold his breath on the cry that 
 rose to his lips. Esther was dead ; he would never 
 touch her or see her, or hear her again. Esther was 
 dead. 
 
 Meanwhile the news of Esther's sudden death and 
 Gerald's illness permeated very slowly to the outside 
 world. Jack delayed for one thing in sending the notices 
 to the papers, Marjorie made no pretence of writing
 
 230 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 any one on the subject. The tragic story leaked out 
 really from Nurse Duncan, at least it was through her 
 that the Bholpur people first heard of it, for Miss 
 Duncan, as it happened had been a co-worker and was a 
 bosom friend of Miss Lyall's. 
 
 Miss Lyall received Nurse Duncan's letter containing 
 the news one afternoon about a fortnight after Nurse 
 Duncan had taken over the case, and took it down with 
 her to the club to read while she was waiting for the men 
 to come up from tennis. All the English residents of 
 Bholpur assembled at the Club House every evening, 
 the men to play, first tennis and then billiards, and Miss 
 Lyall, solitary representative of the female sex as she 
 was, to look on and praise their efforts. On this parti- 
 cular evening however she brought rather a tragic face 
 into their midst. 
 
 "I have had such depressing, terrible news," she 
 informed them. Miss Lyall was always keenly sensitive 
 to the tragedy 0$ other people's lives. 
 
 " What is it ? " asked Brown ; " how dare people be 
 depressing at the beginning of the cold weather." 
 
 " It makes it worse," fluttered little Miss Lyall, " be- 
 cause I know you and Mr. McDermot were such friends 
 of the people. I am afraid it will be a great shock to you ; 
 perhaps it will be easier if I give you the letter to read." 
 
 She handed part of Nurse Duncan's bulky epistle to 
 McDermot, and he and Brown read it together. 
 
 " It is tragedy as you say," remarked Brown sombrely 
 at the conclusion. McDermot said nothing ; he was 
 slowly folding the letter up again and his brow was knit 
 in a frown. 
 
 " What a hell this country is to some people," Brown
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 231 
 
 went on. " Cholera too ; Oh, damn it all ! " he turned 
 aside brusquely and strode to the window, forgetting 
 for the moment to apologize to Miss Lyall for his outburst 
 of language. 
 
 " Who has died of cholera, and where ? " asked Donald- 
 son ; he lifted his attention from the chalking of his 
 billiard cue. 
 
 " It is young Mrs. Hamilton," McDennot answered, 
 his voice level. " She must have been taken ill the night 
 of the ball, and died next morning." 
 
 " The poor young husband went off his head with 
 grief," Miss Lyall supplemented from Nurse Duncan's 
 letter. " And has been dangerously ill ever since, in 
 fact he is only just beginning to pull round." 
 
 Donaldsons healthy face had gone a little white. 
 " Good Lord ! " he said, " and cholera too. How has 
 the news been so long in reaching us ? You would have 
 thought the servants would have had wind of it before 
 now." 
 
 " Yes," agreed McDermot ; the frown still lingered on 
 his face. " It is certainly odd, but there it is. All thia 
 happened two weeks ago ; in this letter the nurse talks 
 of moving young Hamilton to Shillong next day." 
 
 Brown turned suddenly from the window. " I am 
 going home," he stated somewhat fiercely, " no billiards 
 for me to-night. I don't feel like them. And thank the 
 Lord," he went on as they stood on the club steps waiting 
 for the various dog carts, " that to-morrow is mail day. 
 If no one has written to me from the old country, 1 
 shall run amuck and insist upon reading every one else's 
 letters." 
 
 " There will always be the papers," Donaldson ob-
 
 232 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 served gloomily. He was thinking that the mail would 
 bring a letter from the girl at home who was waiting 
 and counting the days till she could come out to him, 
 and how in the name of Providence could he bring her 
 to a country where this sort of thing 'could happen. 
 Supposing she were to die like that ; the thought tortured 
 him all night. 
 
 Dr. Brown on the other hand, as one much used to 
 death and the tragedies that must attend on death, was 
 able to a certain extent to forget the incident that had 
 cast such a sudden gloom over their evening, and looked 
 up with almost blank surprise when McDermot re- 
 opened the subject across the dinner-table. 
 
 " Brown," the Resident said suddenly they had been 
 more than usually silent over the meal " I am sure, 
 though for the life of me I can't explain why, that there 
 is more in this than meets the eye." 
 
 " More in what ? " asked Brown uninterestedly 
 helping himself to an orange. 
 
 " This Hamilton affair," explained McDermot. " I 
 expect you will look upon me as insane if I voice my 
 views, but I can't get away from the idea that there is 
 much more behind this than we have been allowed to 
 hear." 
 
 "Humph!" Brown glanced up from his orange 
 " You are generally sane enough," he remarked. " Do 
 you mind unravelling a little of what is in your brain, 
 McDermot ; I might tumble to your meaning better." 
 
 " Well, perhaps, if I talk I shall see the absurdity of 
 my thoughts." The Resident sat back in his chair and 
 lit a cigar. " It was just before the Hamilton wedding," 
 he said between pufis of smoke, " and somewhere about
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 233 
 
 the time of Ishaq Khan's sudden return from Shillong 
 that I first had a letter from Mrs. Hamilton senior about 
 this afiair. Mrs. Jack Hamilton and I are very old 
 friends, Brown, as I think you know." 
 
 " Yes," agreed the doctor, " though how you two get 
 on has always been a puzzle to me. For Mrs. Hamilton, 
 as I know her, has a hatred for India and all things Indian 
 which I should have thought would have rubbed up 
 against some of your pet theories." 
 
 " Has she ? " asked McDennot ; he looked a little 
 surprised. " She has never admitted that to me. But 
 you may be right ; it would account anyway for the 
 bitterness with which she wrote on this particular occa- 
 sion. It appeared that Shillong at that time was being 
 thrilled, and at the same time scandalized, by a too 
 ardent flirtation which Ishaq Khan was carrying on 
 with a Miss Williams, the girl who afterwards married 
 young Hamilton. Mrs. Jack Hamilton wrote very 
 lengthily upon the subject, accusing Ishaq Khan of 
 having gained some occult influence over the girl. In 
 fact she suggested hypnotism, and wished to hear from 
 me whether such a charge had ever been voiced in con- 
 nexion with him before. Now I do not trust our friend 
 the Prince, Brown ; and as Mrs. Hamilton's letter 
 arrived practically on the heels of the affair of that white 
 woman, in the harem, I was more than a little inclined 
 to regard him with suspicion. One cannot, however, 
 accuse a man, even if he is a native, of unholy practices 
 just because he succeeds in attracting white women. 
 To uo, as to all respectable people of either colour, the 
 idea is repugnant, loathsome, but that Ishaq Khan had 
 this influence and used it, the fact of that first white
 
 234 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 woman went far to prove. Then came the news of the 
 engagement, and forthcoming marriage of Miss Williams. 
 I told Ishaq Khan of it at dinner that night dp you 
 remember the occasion ? for a reason of my own. I 
 wanted to watch him and draw my own conclusions. 
 You, Brown, were driven to remark on the way home 
 that you had noticed something was up with him." 
 
 " I noticed that he hated you," Brown admitted, 
 " but that is nothing new. He hates, as I have remarked 
 before, the whole bang shoot of us." 
 
 " Exactly. It is very improbable then, that he loves 
 the white women wh0 fall into his hands." 
 
 " Oh that," Brown frowned expressively, " surely 
 does not need explaining, and I would rather you did 
 not bring the word love into it, McDermot." 
 
 " You would describe it anyway, as an attraction of 
 a sort. Well, I feel, it is an impression that the man 
 has given me, that instead of its being attraction, it is 
 hate, cold-blooded, poisonous hate. Don't you see 
 what that means T " The Resident's ordinary calm left 
 him, he got up abruptly and came across to the other 
 man. " He takes them, the women, weak enough, 
 base enough, call it what you will, to fall under his 
 power, and on them he wreaks the passion of his hate. 
 In two ways it satisfies him, the lust of cruelty you 
 don't know, Brown, how far that is developed in some 
 of these people the joy of degrading what we white 
 men hold so dear, our women." 
 
 Dr. Brown sat back and stared. " Good Lord, Mc- 
 Dermot," he remonstrated. " I believe you have 
 gone a little mad. What on earth have you evolved 
 these blood curdling theories out of ? "
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 235 
 
 McDermot pulled forward a chair and sat down again. 
 The punkah swung lazily above their heads, a boy came 
 out from behind the screen to see whether he could clear 
 away the things only to vanish back again at a wave of 
 McDermot's hand. 
 
 " I know it sounds mad." The Kesident resumed 
 more calmly, his cigar had gone out ; he paused to 
 re-light it. " Did you ever question Miss Lyall about 
 her one visit to the harem ? " he asked. 
 
 " No," Brown admitted. " I gathered it was a sub- 
 ject she did not wish to talk about." 
 
 " Perhaps. Anyway she could have told you of 
 what one white woman had been through before she 
 died in Ishaq Khan's harem, but like me, it could only 
 have been what she imagined, what guessed at, the 
 dead tell no tales." 
 
 " That is just it," suggested Dr. Brown with an air of 
 relief. " What has all this got to do with the present 
 tragedy since Mrs. Gerald Hamilton is dead." 
 
 McDermot's eyes met his for a second. " If she is 
 dead," he corrected softly. 
 
 " Look here," Brown pushed back his chair and stood 
 up. " You are getting out of my depths, old man, and 
 I shouldn't be surprised if on taking your temperature 
 I was to find you a little feverish. Hadn't you better 
 pack off to bed ? " 
 
 " No, wait ; " McDermot rose too, he laughed a little 
 at his friend's surmises. " Come out into the verandah, 
 let me finish my tale. I am neither mad, nor feverish, but 
 there are some things one cannot think of placidly." 
 He broke off suddenly and turned to Brown. " I know 
 the Hamiltons well," he said. " They are a very proud,
 
 236 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 and self-contained people. If, oh I know it is a large 
 if, but if anything has happened, if the girl has ran ofi 
 seemingly of her own free will, they wouldn't forgive 
 her easily, and what better way for them to hush the 
 matter up could there be than this of death ? " 
 
 " Look here, McDermot," Brown shook him gently. 
 " You are just imagining impossibilities. How on earth 
 do you think they could palm ofi a yarn of that sort 
 on all India ? And even if all your ifs are ifs, what do 
 you propose to do ? " 
 
 " I don't know," McDermot admitted. " I suppose you 
 would say it is no business of ours, but well I have 
 wanted to pull down the Palace and see things for myself 
 ever since that other woman died and now, perhaps I 
 am a fool, but I would give more than my right hand 
 to be of some use to her." 
 
 He turned and went into his own room and Brown, 
 having the verandah to himself, veered slowly round 
 looking towards the forest where the Bholpur Palace 
 showed up a blurred white mass amongst the trees. 
 
 " Poor old McDermot," he muttered ; his intent gaze 
 appeared to bring some decision to his mind for, " By 
 Jove," he volunteered aloud to the night and the stars, 
 " if there was the faintest shadow of truth in any of his 
 ifs, for tuppence I'd pull down the whole beastly concern 
 myself."
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 M One friend in that path shall be, 
 
 One to count night day for me, 
 Patient through the watches long, 
 Serving most with none to see." Browning. 
 
 GERALD'S way back to health was of necessity 
 somewhat slow, though Dr. Crow had been able 
 to pronounce him out of danger after the first week. 
 There followed, however, long, weary days and black 
 interminable nights, when, unless under an opiate, he 
 would lie awake brooding and thinking about Esther, 
 which in no way helped him in his convalescence. As 
 Nurse Duncan said it was just that silent brooding they 
 had to fight against more than anything else. 
 
 " If he would only talk about her to any one," she 
 urged most particularly on Mrs. Hamilton, "it would 
 lighten his load, make things easier for him to bear, 
 and help him to get well quicker than any amount of 
 medicine." 
 
 Marjorie accepted the hint in silence ; she would gladly 
 have made her effort towards easing his mind, though 
 to ? speak of Esther was not easy for her, but Gerald 
 proved singularly intractable. Perhaps the instinctive 
 knowledge that Marjorie had never loved Esther drove 
 him back on himself ; he could not speak of her, he had 
 asked for no details of her death, he seemed to want 
 none. As a matter of fact the events that had preceded 
 
 237
 
 238 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 his accident stirred in his mind as very blurred incidents ; 
 he had been bitterly unhappy and he had quarrelled 
 with Esther, he remembered that ; therein lay the tragedy 
 of his silent thoughts, for he would never now be able 
 to tell her how stupid had been his anger, or how un- 
 alterable his love. And death raised up such a barrier 
 between his aching heart and the woman he had loved ; 
 he threw himself against it again and again till its dumb 
 resistance drove him mad and sometimes he almost 
 prayed for forgetfulness. 
 
 At the end of the second week the Hamiltons and Dr. 
 Crow took their patient up to Shillong. Nurse Duncan 
 saw him over the journey and then said farewell. There 
 .was really nothing more that she could do for Gerald 
 and she left Shahjahan in close and indefatigable attend- 
 ance on his master. Shahjahan had been through a good 
 deal since the night of his sahib's accident. He had 
 sat for long hours crouching at the foot of Gerald's bed ; 
 not even the nurse's stern discipline had been able to 
 dislodge him from there, and during those hours he had 
 heard his sahib call and call again for 'the white mem 
 who had so ruthlessly left him. Now it is to be remem- 
 bered that to Shahjahan conscience was embodied in 
 his love for his samb ; the white men he did not care for 
 at all, but he knew something for he was an old man 
 and had lived his life before he became a servant of 
 the love a man can bear to a woman though the woman 
 be thoroughly unworthy. Therefore as he sat and 
 listened through those night watches, Shahjahan had 
 taken an oath that if his sahib required the woman 
 back again, he should have her at all costs. Shahjahan 
 had his own clues and a certain knowledge to guide him.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 239 
 
 Then had come the bewildering behaviour of the 
 other sahibs, the hastily conceived mock burial, 
 the bond of secrecy which all the servants had taken 
 upon themselves. Verily the ways of the white man 
 were un-understandable. Shahjahan bided his time and 
 purpose ; he would see with his own eyes whether his 
 sahib was party to the plot or not. 
 
 An Oriental when dealing with a European in- 
 stinctively moves by caution ; a native never asks a 
 direct question, just as he never answers with a direct 
 truth. Shahjahan watched and listened and waited, 
 but since Gerald was so strangely silent he perforce did 
 not gather much. Then one evening as together they 
 sat out in the verandah, Gerald, lying in a long chair, 
 Shahjahan squatting on the steps at his feet, the first 
 move in the game of diplomacy was taken. 
 
 Gerald had a book, but he had not been reading for a 
 long time ; the little puzzled frown had gathered between 
 his eyes' it was rarely absent from them these days he 
 had grown very suddenly from a cheerful, light-hearted 
 boy, to a somewhat morose man. Shahjahan took it 
 upon himself after a discreet cough to break in on his 
 sahib's meditation. 
 
 " The huzoor is nearly well now," he ventured ; " when 
 do we rejoin the regiment ? " 
 
 " Next week, I suppose," answered Gtsrald ; " you 
 are tired of our long leave, Shahjahan ? " 
 
 " Nay," Shahjahan spoke slowly his eyes hungry on 
 the white face. " But it weighs on my heart that the 
 huzoor is not glad of the life the gods have given back 
 to him ; he cares no more for the regiment, for polo, for 
 cricket."
 
 240 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 The English names were pronounced quaintly. Gerald 
 smiled; in a way he was touched by the old man's 
 anxiety. 
 
 " I don't know about not caring," he answered ; then 
 his eyes wandered back to the far off snow-clad hills, 
 and when he went on speaking it was more to himself 
 than to his listener. " I shall have to pull myself to- 
 gether," he said, " but when there is something in one's 
 life that one has cared all the world for, and it is sud- 
 denly taken away, Shahjahan.- the world seems beastly 
 empty." 
 
 Shahjahan's English was not very extensive, but 
 some of Gerald's meaning he did appear to gather, for 
 he nodded his head. 
 
 " There are other women, huzoor," he suggested. It 
 was impossible to take offence at his words, they were 
 so gravely said, and Gerald answered in the same mood, 
 dropping back into the vernacular. 
 
 " No, Shahjahan, do you remember you said to me 
 once when I was chaffing you about something, ' Hu- 
 zoor, my wife died when I was a lad of nineteen ; I 
 buried all women in her grave.' Well, it is like that with 
 me ; I, too, have buried all I shall ever love." 
 
 Shahjahan stood up abruptly. " Huzoor," he said, 
 with what must have appeared as a quick change of 
 ideas, " if it meets with your comfort I should wish to 
 apply for one month's leave when we go from here." 
 
 " Leave," repeated Gerald ; he stared up at the man. 
 " What an extraordinary old buster you are. One 
 moment weeping over me and the next wanting to leave 
 me. What do you want leave for?" 
 *' Huzoor," Shahjahan spoke blandly ; in that one
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 241 
 
 moment his mind had been made up, the way had been 
 mipped out before him. " It is expedient that I visit 
 th home of my fathers. I have procured a good boy 
 whip will make a most excellent servant in my absence, 
 ancl who is a man of my own family, therefore the huzooi 
 may trust him." 
 
 " Oh, well, if you must go, you must." Gerald was 
 conscious of feeling a little hurt. " See to it that the 
 new ittan thoroughly understands my work though." 
 
 Shahjahan salaamed gravely and took his silent way 
 off the\ verandah, just as Marjorie's rickshaw drew up 
 at the toot of the steps. 
 
 " ShaVjahan is taking a month's leave," said Gerald 
 still in a lather aggrieved tone of voice as Marjorie came 
 up to him\ " It seems a bit inconsiderate of him, doesn't 
 it? just at this time, but you really never know where 
 you have ihese natives." 
 
 " He has peen so good all through your illness," Mar- 
 jorie answer^! ; she paused on her way to her room. " I 
 don't believe\ he has slept once during the past three 
 weeks, perhats he feels fagged out." 
 
 Gerald's face cleared. " What a confounded nuis- 
 ance I have n^ade of myself," he said. "I wonder 
 you aren't all kead sick of me." 
 
 " Dear boy," Marjorie came back quickly and stooped 
 to kiss the top ofYhis head. " We have kept you, that is 
 all that really matters." 
 
 So Shahjahan tofck leave and went to spend it with a 
 relation by marriag^ who conveniently had his dwelling 
 in one of the smallest side streets of Bholpur. The 
 relation in question, a sleek, mild-mannered grain 
 merchant was, to begin with, rather suspicious of the
 
 242 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 motives which could have caused this sudden viat. 
 Under the circumstances, however (his wife was Shth- 
 jahan's sister and a masterful, shrill-voiced woman to 
 boot), he made himself as amiable as possible, and tfas 
 more than willing to dole out the scandal of the Palace 
 if that was what his brother-in-law was requiring. 
 Shahjahan therefore in the course of his inquiries barnt 
 many small details as to Prince Ishaq Khan's donestic 
 affairs, the seditious faction, the failure of Ra Chandra, 
 and so forth. Incidentally, Hira Lai was not a true 
 patriot in Ra Chandra's sense of the word. 
 
 " 'Tis foolishness they talk," he confided to Shahjahan. 
 " At a given signal we are to rise and wipe out the 
 British Raj. To what purpose say I, so that tie Prince 
 and such like men may rule us and grind us under their 
 heels. Give me in preference the English Raj ; they do 
 not understand us, that is without doubt true, it makes 
 them the easier to hoodwink, one tells what lies one 
 pleases to the white folk." 
 
 " Yes," agreed Shahjahan ; " yet they are not all 
 fools, brother, and there is justice in their dealings." 
 
 " Of a truth that is so," struck in a ponderously fat 
 man, a far ofl relation of Hira Lai's, "and as for the 
 Prince, should his heel be upon us, there is Narrayan to 
 stand as living witness of what his justice will be." 
 
 A certain shade of gloom descended on the gathering, 
 for there were present two or three neighbours who had 
 looked in for the pleasure of hearing the questions of the 
 day discussed with a newcomer. 
 
 " Aye, there is Narrayan," another of them repeated. 
 
 Shahjahan looked round ; he was quick to notice the 
 shadow of restraint.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 243 
 
 " Who is this Narrayan ? " he asked. " What of 
 him?" 
 
 Hira Lai took upon himself to answer. " "Tis ill 
 luck to speak of such misfortune," he said, directing a 
 frown at the first offender, " but this is the tale. This 
 same Narrayan was water-carrier to the women's 
 quarters in the Palace, a likely lad but ever anxious 
 to pry, &nd of an exceedingly soft heart towards women. 
 In those days, there was a white woman in the Palace, 
 a slave Wrought by the Prince from the land of the white 
 folk, and it would seem that tiring of the life in the 
 harem you know well, brother," he nodded at Shah- 
 jahan, " the freedom of the white women, she desired 
 to fly the piace. Then too, she was ill, and if Narrayan 
 poor fool, he could speak in those days spake truth, 
 there was some ill-treatment. Without doubt the Prince 
 tired of her ai^d there were many jealous hearts in the 
 harem." He paused and sucked at his pipe amidst an 
 impatient silence. 
 
 " We had it fipm the servants at the Residency," he 
 went on presently. " It seems the woman wrote a letter 
 and sent it by Narrayan to the resident sahib, then " 
 
 He seemed about to pause again but Shahjahan 
 prompted him. \ 
 
 "Then," he asked, "what happened? Hira Lai, 
 thou art a slow talker." 
 
 Hira Lai glanced across at him. " The woman was 
 dead ere the white foVk got to her," he said, " and 
 Narrayan one of these days I will show thee Narrayan, 
 Shahjahan, as Hussein has said he is a lesson of the justice 
 of the Prince, that makes me not anxious for this much 
 talked-of change of Government."
 
 244 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 " Narrayan," Shahjahan made a quick mental note. 
 That was the man who should help him with his quest, 
 provided he was still alive. 
 
 " Then he yet lives, this Narrayan ? " He voice! his 
 difficulty at once. " I should much like to meet him." 
 
 " Aye, he lives," answered one of the party who had 
 not yet spoken, " there are worse things than death in 
 the justice of the Prince." 
 
 This was greeted with nods of agreement and the 
 gathering shortly after broke up, but as they departed 
 the last speaker turned to Shahjahan. 
 
 " To-morrow," he said, " the priests feed the poor 
 at the temple gate ; thou mayst see Narrayan there if 
 thou wishest." 
 
 Most decidedly Shahjahan wished ; he was early on 
 the scene of action next morning, and the fact that he 
 had not been able to persuade Hira Lai to accompany 
 him in no way depressed him. He had from the begin- 
 ning decided that it would be no use taking that worthy 
 into his confidence. 
 
 The small paved space at the door of the temple was 
 already nearly full of a pushing, evil-smelling crowd of 
 mendicants. Lame and blind, twisted bodies, horrible 
 deformities and injuries, gathered together from many 
 miles round, all professional beggars, and as such well 
 fed despite their abject appearance, for there are few 
 beggars so well off as the professional mendicant of 
 India. Here a curse direct falk on them who refuse 
 charity to the poor, and curses, though they may not 
 be more effectual, are at any rate more feared in the 
 East than in the West. Shahjahan stood on the out- 
 skirts for gome time and watched the priests passing
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 245 
 
 backwards and forwards through the crowd, doling out 
 rice to the outstretched hands. Which among all these 
 score of ruffians was Narrayan, he wondered, and was 
 about to put the question to one of his fellow lookers-on 
 when suddenly he was aware of a hush that had fallen 
 over the scene. With muttered curses the beggars 
 drew to either side, leaving a cleared passage up to the 
 temple door. Shahjahan leaned forward to see. 
 
 Up the path thus cleared a figure was advancing, 
 practically it groped with long thin hands that searched 
 and felt the way, while all the time, a wailing not loud, 
 but unrecognizable as human, broke from the twisted 
 mouth. Thejnan had no eyes, Shahjahan realized with 
 a shock of horror, but flaming, awful sockets with open 
 sores where the eyes should have been. 
 
 Shahjahan felt suddenly ill, and could hardly control 
 his voice sufficiently to ask of the man next him what 
 in the name of Allah was the thing approaching. 
 
 The man questioned turned to stare in surprise. 
 " Art a stranger to Bholpur ? " he asked ; then sudden 
 hatred flamed into his face ; he turned to spit on the 
 ground. " It is named Narrayan," he explained, " and 
 that is the justice of our Prince, the curse of God be on 
 him." 
 
 " 'Tis strange justice," remarked Shahjahan ; the 
 intense feeling of horror had passed ; he was interested 
 in his chance acquaintance who could voice such depths 
 of hate towards the reigning Prince. " What have the 
 white men to say to such dealings ? " 
 
 The boy Shahjahan could see now that his companion 
 was little more turned to him passionately. " What 
 do they know or heed of what happens to the bazaar
 
 246 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 folk ? " he asked ; " are we of as much value 'in their 
 eyes as the dust that blows across their garden ? The 
 Prince," his voice dropped sullenly, " is their friend ; 
 will they believe our word against his ? " 
 
 There was truth in the argument. Shahjahan knew 
 that ; his own quick brain was working out a plan. He 
 put out a hand to detain the boy as he turned to go.- 
 
 "You speak bitterly," he said, "and with truth, 
 but I have knowledge of a wrong done by this same 
 Prince to the white folk, that, let them once know of it 
 and they will not forget. What say you, shall I tell my 
 plan ; am I right in thinking there is some wrong within 
 your heart that cries for vengeance ? " 
 
 Most of the throng had betaken themselves off by 
 now. Shahjahan and his companion were comparatively 
 alone ; only the figure of Narrayan crouched at the gate 
 of the temple. By his side squatted a small, fat girl, 
 patient and oblivious of the horror so near her. She 
 was evidently in charge of the man for now and then 
 she would wave the flies from off his face or push aside 
 a too curious dog. 
 
 Shahjahan's companion looked across to the squatting 
 figures and back again. " You have spoken true," he 
 said, " I care not who hears. My wrong is like unto 
 the wrong of Narrayan, and one day the gods being 
 merciful to me I will repay it. But for you I can in 
 no sort of way help you ; get you to Narrayan, he cannot 
 speak nor see but he can hear, and he knows the Palace 
 well." He turned brusquely and shaking Shahjahan's 
 hand off his arm hurried away. 
 
 Left to himself again Shahjahan contemplated the 
 empty square ; he was loth to have anything very much
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 247 
 
 to do with the hideous horror that sat slobbering in the 
 sun, but on the other hand what the young man had just 
 said was undoubtedly true, and if Shahjahan was to get 
 within the Palace walls and gather the information he 
 desired before he could safely act upon his knowledge, 
 Narrayan was surely the person to get him there. He 
 sauntered finally across to the object of his considera- 
 tions and squatted down beside the pair. 
 
 " Misfortune kills the body but not the mind;"' he 
 opened his discourse philosophically. 
 
 The twitching face turned to him and Shahjahan 
 looked away hastily. 
 
 " Dost thou understand, Unfortunate one ? " he 
 asked ; " if my meaning be clear, it is but necessary to 
 nod the head." 
 
 He blinked round to see the effect of that speech and 
 Narrayan nodded at him distinctly, also he opened his 
 mouth and displayed a raw cavity the tongue had been 
 cut off short. 
 
 " He cannot speak," explained the fat child 
 stolidly 
 
 " I know." Shahjahan made a hasty movement with 
 his hand ; he did not wish to see any more. " Thou art 
 his daughter, without doubt." 
 
 " Yes," the child asserted, " he has been like this 
 for now it is eight months, and as yet he has to be led 
 from place to place. He can talk so with his mouth ; " 
 she made strange sounds, " but they are difficult to 
 understand if you know them not well." 
 
 " I will stay and talk to him awhile," said Shahjahan, 
 " my heart bleeds for such suffering. Go you a little 
 away."
 
 248 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 The child obeyed docilely and Shahjahan's next words 
 were purposely weighted with scorn. 
 
 " Men here call this thing that has been done to you, 
 the justice of the Prince," he said. " I spit upon such 
 justice." He did so somewhat violently. 
 
 The head jerked again. 
 
 " What of revenge ? " asked Shahjahan. He put ona 
 hand on the man's arm ; " we cannot talk here for people 
 watch us ; take me to your home. I have a plan which 
 could do with your help as you with mine." 
 
 He waited anxiously to see how his plan carried. The 
 man beside him shivered, his hands twitching ; he was 
 evidently undecided and afraid, then he turned those 
 dreadful eye sockets to Shahjahan again, nodded his 
 head and rose stiffly, one claw-like hand on the other's 
 arm. The child ran up to them at once. 
 
 "Is it home?" she asked; " and does the stranger go 
 with us ? " 
 
 At a nod from the blind man, she jerked her head in a 
 certain direction to Shahjahan and started off at a good 
 brisk pace leading her father. Shahjahan followed 
 silently ; he had not quite made up his mind what course 
 to pursue ; from Narrayan at any rate he hoped to obtain 
 information as to how to gain access to the harem, after 
 that he would think out what was best to be done. 
 
 The child led them swiftly and directly down a side 
 turning at the back of the temple along a narrow foot- 
 path that ran parallel to the Palace wall, and paused 
 finally by a low-built straw-roofed hut standing under 
 the shade of a monstrous peepul tree practically at the 
 back gates of the Palace. A woman who had been 
 kneading cow-dung cakes on the mud plateau in front
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 249 
 
 of the hut scrambled quickly to her feet at their approach, 
 half veiling her face with the dirty rag that served her as 
 a scanty covering. 
 
 The child shouted to her the information thatShah- 
 jahan was an important stranger who desired speech 
 with her father, and the woman with a muttered word 
 of welcome pushed the filth she had been working on 
 to one side and vanished herself quickly into the shadow 
 of the hut. The child followed suit, having first estab- 
 lished her father in his accustomed seat, and Shah jahan 
 found himself alone with this strange, awe-inspiring 
 host. So the talking was to be done in the open ; he 
 was rather glad of that ; there would be little chance 
 for an eavesdropper, and Shahjahan took care to keep 
 his voice discreetly lowered, it could hardly carry to the 
 woman inside. 
 
 Narrayan was not by any means easy to convince ; he 
 suffered from an unshakable faith in the Prince's 
 power for finding out the most hidden transactions, 
 and he had suffered to the full what the cost of being 
 found out had entailed. What guarantee had Shah- 
 jahan, even if all his tales were true, that the white men 
 could protect him against a further vengeance ? they 
 had not done so before, yet Narrayan had offended in the 
 service of a white woman. He was naturally not in- 
 clined to risk much, and Shahjahan's arguments had to 
 be well and lengthily re-stated. Finally after much 
 coercion he was moved to agree, by strange guttural 
 sounds, and nods of his head. His little daughter 
 should lead Shahjahan to the Garden Palace, in which 
 place it was most probable Esther would be housed, since 
 it was the abode for the favourite wife of the moment.
 
 250 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 The child knew the way well having often accompanied 
 her father when he was a water carrier to the harem, 
 but having once brought him to the place she was to 
 come away at once, not under any circumstances was 
 she to be seen with Shahjahan ; they were to go after 
 dark and Shahjahan was to find his own way out again. 
 In return .for such service Shahjahan was to pay over 
 thirty rupees on the spot and give his promise that 
 when the sahibs came to take their vengeance on the 
 Prince, Narrayan's case should be mentioned. 
 
 Shahjahan came away on the whole well satisfied with 
 his mission, though the parting with thirty rupees had 
 not been expected, and on the way back to his brother- 
 in-law's house, he had to stand aside in the ditch to 
 allow the Resident's pony and trap to pass. Shahjahan 
 was too busy with his thoughts to pay much attention 
 to the incident, but the keen, blue eyes had rested on 
 him and in that second McDermot had recognized him. 
 " It's the Gerald Hamilton's head man," he thought ; 
 " what on earth can he be doing in Bholpur ? " 
 
 That night at dinner McDermot glancing up at Brown 
 voiced a sudden decision that had come to him during 
 the drive home. 
 
 " I shall take this week-end in the hills," he said ; 
 *' something is pulling me to Shillong." 
 
 " Lucky dog," grunted Brown ; " there are all sorts 
 of things pulling me away from Bholpur, but I don't 
 see much chance of gratifying the instinct. What about 
 your ideas on the Hamilton question ? " he asked as an 
 afterthought. " I hope they have worn thin and you 
 aren't dashing ofi with that bee in your bonnet." 
 
 " In a way I suppose I am," McDermot admitted.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 251 
 
 " I can't help it, Brown. I have got to find out for 
 myself." He stood up ; Brown rose too. 
 
 " Go to Shillong, by all means," he said. " Do you 
 good and blow away the cobwebs. For a sane man you 
 have been most absurdly obstinate on this subject." 
 
 McDermot laughed and there the matter was allowed 
 to drop. He did not think it necessary in the face of 
 Brown's attitude to add that he had that evening seen 
 Shahjahan in the precincts of the Palace, for Brown 
 would only think it another evidence of his madness 
 that he should in any way connect the man's presence 
 with the rest of the chain of happenings which were so 
 slowly and surely tightening for him supposition into 
 certainty.
 
 CHAPTER XXH 
 
 "Nothing gives such a blow to friendship as the detecting 
 another in an untruth; it strikes at the root of our confidence 
 ever after." Haditt. 
 
 MoDERMOT went to Shillong the next day as he 
 had abruptly made up his mind to do. Quite 
 what he expected to find out during his visit he did not 
 define even to himself, and he had no further conversa- 
 tion with Brown on the matter. The latter appeared 
 to forget entirely the discussion of the night before, and 
 during breakfast was wrapped up in the fact that the 
 English mail had brought him two letters. 
 
 " Skating and hunting," he groaned half way through 
 the second epistle. " Man, do you realize that ? And 
 here we are in this small portion of inferno with the sun 
 hot enough to roast a potato in." 
 
 " It is a good sun," McDermott admitted placidly ; 
 " you wait till you are a retired buster of two or three 
 years' standing, and you will find your old bones and the 
 bleared old eyes of you simply aching and straining for 
 the sight and feel of it." 
 
 " Rot," breathed Brown. " My idea of Hell is a sun 
 nearer and larger than this one, and as for the ordinary 
 Biblical known spot, well you and I, after ten years of 
 this, will require blankets if we get sent there." 
 
 252
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 253 
 
 McDermot laughed. " You sin your mercies," he 
 said, " look at this same abused sun, how it flings gold 
 over everything." 
 
 Brown grunted and returned to the last page of his 
 letter. " It's all very well for you to talk," he added as a 
 bitter afterthought, " you will be feasting your eyes 
 on the snows of the Himalayas to-morrow, and can afford 
 to be generous to Bholpur to-day. Besides, the prospect 
 of playing tennis three days running with the Black 
 Beetle is enough to depress any one." He rose gloomily 
 and departed with his English mail to his side of the 
 house. 
 
 McDermot wrote a short note and sent it over to the 
 Palace, expressing his regret at not having seen the 
 Prince the day before, and mentioning the fact of his 
 departure to the hills for a day or two. Then, the 
 Residential affairs being handed over to Donaldson for 
 the time being, and accompanied by the faithful Rutna 
 and a hastily packed bag, the Resident started. 
 
 The small hill railway to Shillong takes a very winding 
 way up the steep inclines of the mountain range. The 
 train advances by fits and starts, and much fussy grunt- 
 ing on the part of the engine. At Tara station, which ia 
 the last stop before Shillong, it comes to a long stand- 
 still. Here the third-class passengers unpack themselves 
 from the crowded carriages and draw up in a line along 
 the platform to be medically inspected for plague and 
 other such fell diseases which belong by well-established 
 rights to the plains, but which Government is always 
 doing its best to keep out of the hill resorts. The natives 
 take this precautionary Government act with their usual 
 placid unconcern. They understand not in the very
 
 254 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 least why the officials should wish to look at their tongues 
 and take their temperatures, but they accept the fact 
 with unquestioning obedience. One undoubted fact the 
 British rule has established in India, and that is faith- 
 faith, and a blind trust in their English rulers, which no 
 amount of seditious upheaval has as yet eradicated from 
 the hearts of the people. 
 
 McDermot, emerging from his carriage to watch pro- 
 ceedings and stretch his legs, chanced upon rather a 
 pathetic evidence of this truth. A very old man, hailing, 
 as his turban proclaimed, from the plains of Rajpatana, 
 had taken his stand with the rest of the third-class 
 passengers along the platform. That he was bewildered 
 and confused by the proceedings was evident from the 
 harassed expression on his wrinkled old face.- Probably 
 he had never even taken a railway journey before, cer- 
 tainly he had never been plague inspected ; but to ask the 
 why and the wherefore of things from any of his fellow- 
 travellers, who were neither Raj pats nor as old as he, 
 was quite beneath his dignity. Therefore he drew him- 
 self in line and awaited events. McDermot pausing in 
 his walk caught the old fellow's eye and salaamed him, 
 for he had a soft corner in his heart for Raj pats, and at 
 that moment the doctor came up. To the doctor the 
 affair had grown so much a matter of course, that it 
 needed no explanation, by a sign he made the old man 
 open his mouth and thrust in the thermometer, placing 
 his finger on the wrist meanwhile to count the pulse. 
 The Raj pat gave one agitated fluttering glance at McDer- 
 mott " What do I with this thing in my mouth ? " his 
 eyes said as plain as words. A thermometer was un- 
 known to him : with a blind trust and a pathetic hope
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 255 
 
 that the thing would not make him sick he had, as he 
 knew only too well, an easily turned stomach the Raj- 
 pat started to chew the bulb. 
 
 McDermot had been a little amused by the poor old 
 man's evident fright, but even he did not suspect the full 
 tragedy until the doctor came to remove the instrument. 
 Out it came, minus quite half an inch and all its quick- 
 silver, while the Raj pat gulped and blinked over a dis- 
 agreeable performance well completed. 
 
 " Good God !" exclaimed the doctor, horrified indigna- 
 tion in his voice, " the old fool has eaten it.** 
 
 Luckily he spoke in English, and McDermot inter- 
 fered before any damage could be done to the old man's 
 feelings as well as to his inside. 
 
 " Hardly his fault, doctor. The poor old chap didn't 
 know what else to do with it. He is new to your profes- 
 sion, I gather. Will it make him very sick ? " 
 
 The doctor was staring at the man and at the thermo- 
 meter in turns. " I don't suppose so," he answered, " I 
 will let him have an emetic in any case and keep him back 
 till the next train. My new thermometer too ! If you 
 can talk hia lingo, explain, will you ? I am almighty 
 busy." 
 
 McDermot explained to the best of his ability, then 
 the train getting under weigh again, he was forced to 
 leave the old man to his fate, and carried away a pathetic 
 picture of the Raj pat, with the same confidence which 
 had caused him to nibble a quicksilver bulb, clrmking 
 down the liquid held out to him sternly by the doctor. 
 
 " They have to take us and our methods on trust," 
 McDermot thought, " and by Jove, how grandly ii 
 of them do itl"
 
 256 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 The train pulling itself together for a final effort gav 
 a shrill triumphant whistle and hurled itself into the 
 blackness of the last tunnel, to emerge from that seclu- 
 sion and come to a full stop in Shillong station. McDer- 
 mot, leaving the conveyance of his scanty luggage in 
 Rutna's hands, elected to refuse all offers of the station 
 rickshaws and started to walk at a brisk pace to the club. 
 It was nearing tea time, and he was hungry. The air up 
 here, blowing straight from the snows of which Brown 
 had been so envious, struck upon his heatloving nature 
 as chill. He was glad to walk fast and pull his overcoat 
 round him. But he was forced to admit that its very 
 sharpness was exhilarating. 
 
 Shillong from the English point of view, as he could 
 see, was practically deserted ; he found the club a barrack 
 of loneliness and had tea all by himself. He was medita- 
 ting going off to his room, and seeking an early bed, being 
 tired now he came to think of it with his day and night 
 journey, when he perceived Dr. Crow saunter negligently 
 into the clubroom. The little man paused in the en- 
 trance, and in his slow survey of the room took in McDer- 
 mot's presence with a start of surprise. 
 
 " Hullo, McDermot ! " he exclaimed, coming quickly 
 across the room, " you here ? What on earth brings 
 you up at this time of year ? " He spread out his hands 
 dramatically and dropped into a chair at McDermot's 
 table. A 
 
 " I am only up for a weekend," McDermot explained 
 briefly ; " wanted a change, and lack of society won't 
 bother me." 
 
 " Well, I suppose not," Dr. Crow fixed in his eyeglass 
 and stared across at him, ** Been ill ? " he asked.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 257 
 
 " No," McDermot shook his head ; " do I look it, from 
 a professional point of view ? " 
 
 The other man laughed, he leant back in his chair, a 
 favourite position, his hands clasping his knees. " Can't 
 say you do," he admitted. " I was just wondering " he 
 broke off and changed the subject. " We have just been 
 through a gloomy period," he said, and rang the little 
 handbell which stood on the table between them. 
 " What will you have, McDermot, bitters or a liqueur ? " 
 
 " Bitters, please," McDermott answered. ;< You 
 refer, I suppose," he went on after the drinks had been 
 brought, " to the Hamilton affair it must have been 
 very sad." 
 
 " Yes," agreed Dr. Crow ; he paused a moment. " I 
 have never known myself so submerged in a tragedy. 
 You know how quickly we doctors push the fact of death 
 aside, when we can, but this one somehow I helped 
 Hamilton to bury her," he said suddenly, " and bring the 
 young man up here." 
 
 " Did you ? " asked McDermott; He spoke reflectively, 
 his eyes on the wineglass in his hand. " Cholera ? " he 
 added. 
 
 " Yes," Dr. Crow leant forward to put his empty glass 
 on the table, " cholera. Worst case I have seen for 
 years, she was dead in four hours. How are things in 
 Bholpur ? " he asked with rather an abrupt change of 
 conversation. 
 
 " Not as well as I should like," McDermott admitted, 
 " if I get the chance there are one or two things I should 
 like to consult Hamilton about. Is young Hamilton very 
 ill ? " He looked across at the doctor interrogatively. 
 
 " Turned the corner a fortnight ago," Crow hesitated. , 
 
 i
 
 258 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 " The Hamiltons I am sure would be glad to see you, and 
 would probably be mortally offended if you went away 
 without making an attempt. Of course they do not come 
 to the club much." 
 
 " You think I might call, then ? " McDermot asked. 
 " I have only got till to-morrow evening." 
 
 " Why, of course," Crow stood up ; '' or better still, I 
 am dining there this evening, I will tell them you are up 
 and they will drop you a line to-morrow morning." 
 
 " Thank you," agreed McDermot ; he stood up like- 
 wise and together they strolled to the door. " Explain 
 to them though that I do not want to intrude, just if 
 Hamilton could spare me an official quarter of an hour." 
 
 " That will be all right," Crow assured him. " It will 
 do Mrs. Hamilton good to see some one fresh," he added 
 as he swung himself into the saddle of the pony that was 
 waiting for him outside the club door. 
 
 McDermot watched him disappear round the corner, 
 then turned back into the club to find his room. 
 
 " It is a mad chase I have come after," he thought, 
 " and yet well, Crow isn't easy in his mind about that 
 cholera." 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton's little note of invitation was waiting 
 for him on the breakfast-table when he came down next 
 morning. " Would he come over to lunch that day, they 
 would be more than glad to see him ? " 
 
 He went, and Marjorie received him alone in the draw- 
 ing-room. Jack had not yet returned from office, but he 
 would not be long. Marjorie herself appeared a little 
 nervous, as if not quite at her ease, and waving McDer- 
 mot to a chair sat down in one near the window. 
 
 " What brings you up here ? " she asked, repeating
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 259 
 
 Crow's question of the night before. '* You don't often 
 favour this social spot." 
 
 The light fell across her lap, McDermot noticed with 
 surprise how restless her hands were; restlessness he 
 would have imagined as being absolutely foreign to her 
 nature. 
 
 " Yes," he admitted, sitting down on the chair she had 
 indicated, " I do not often treat myself like this. 
 This year, however, has been a hard one ; Bholpur, if it 
 isn't heresy for a Resident to say so, has been getting on 
 my nerves. I wanted a change, and though it has been a 
 very short one it has done me good already." 
 
 " You go back to-night then ? " asked Mrs. Hamilton. 
 
 " Unfortunately, yes," McDermot looked up at her. 
 " I have no orthodox words of sympathy, Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton," he said, " but believe me I have felt your brother- 
 in-law's tragedy a lot ; it cast a tremendous gloom over 
 our spirits in Bholpur." 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton crossed and uncrossed her hands. " It 
 has been very dreadful," she said, " and I " she stood 
 up quickly and turned her back on him, " sometimes I 
 feel as if I couldn't bear it any more." 
 
 McDermot was looking at his hands. " I could see you 
 were worried to the edge of your endurance when I came 
 in," he said, " and I feel as if I had no right to thrust 
 myself upon you at such a time, but the brother-in-law is 
 doing well, isn't he you are not nervous for 
 him?" 
 
 " No, oh no," she answered, " but I am blaming my- 
 self, Mr. McDermot, that is really what it is. I never 
 liked her, you know, I was almost glad that she should 
 die." Her voice came to a hushed pause, she faced
 
 260 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 round to him again. " Would you have credited me 
 with such unkindness ? " she asked. 
 
 McDermot stood up, his eyes met hers a little sternly. 
 " I don't know," he answered, " that it is always unkind 
 to be glad when people die. Swinburne says somewhere 
 you first initiated me to Swinburne, do you re- 
 member ' At the doors of life, at the gates of birth, there 
 are worse things waiting for men than Death.' ' 
 
 He heard the catch at her breath as she answered. 
 " What do you mean ? " she asked. 
 
 McDermot came a little nearer to her, outside he 
 could hear the clatter of ponies' hoofs on the drive and 
 Hamilton's voice talking to the servant. 
 
 " I have been thinking a lot about Mrs. Gerald Hamil- 
 ton since we heard this news," he said, " and remember- 
 ing what you had told me in connection with her and 
 Ishaq Khan, something I overheard at the ball perhaps 
 sharpened my memory. Anyway " he paused a second 
 and his eyes met Mrs. Hamilton's. " Six months ago," 
 he went on, speaking quickly, for in a moment Hamilton 
 would be in the room, " a woman I know of died in 
 Bholpur, but before death found her she had been 
 through and suffered things it is not good even to think 
 of. She died, a white woman, in the harem of Prince 
 Ishaq Khan." 
 
 He finished abruptly and turned to greet his host, but 
 in that one second he had read the truth, vivid and 
 unshakable, in Mrs. Hamilton's blanched face. 
 
 The conversation was not resumed, and with Jack 
 Hamilton McDermot talked Bholpur and its needs 
 strenuously all through lunch. The Resident perhaps 
 carried away with him a rather stricken conscience, he
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 261 
 
 had so palpably taken advantage of Mrs. Hamilton in 
 thus extracting the truth from her. Yet something 
 within him, some memory of Esther as he had grown to 
 know her during their days in Camp together, drove 'him 
 on. And while the train swung and creaked and rattled 
 through the night-veiled plains towards Bholpur, Mc- 
 Dermot sat up in his bunk smoking innumerable cigars, 
 the busy brain working behind the light blue eyes. 
 Esther should not be left to the fate he had little doubt 
 was awaiting her, not so long as he had brain and heart 
 to serve her, only, as he was forced to admit to himself, 
 his hands were pretty well tied so long as the Hamiltons 
 remained true to theii present version of the story.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 " But your words were flame and your kisses fire, 
 And who shall resist a strong desire." 
 
 JUST as in some dances one false step throws one out 
 of tune with the melody for the rest of the dance, so 
 it is in life. And the small mistakes count as irrevocably 
 and as terribly as the large ones, therein lies the tragedy. 
 It would be easier, one often thinks, to be punished for 
 some great crime, but that the little errors, the inadver- 
 tent wrongs, should be dealt with by the same harsh 
 law strikes upon our human hearts as injustice the 
 injustice of Fate. 
 
 " The moving finger writes, and having writ, 
 
 Moves on, nor all your piety nor wit 
 Shall lure it back to cancel half a line, 
 Nor all your tears wash out one word of it." 
 
 Esther had taken that one step, and almost before she 
 was aware of it the gates of yesterday shut down behind 
 her. There was to be no turning back, that she was to 
 learn through great anguish only to-morrow was left 
 her, a to-morrow out of tune and jarring with all the 
 sweet melodies of the world. 
 
 She did not realize that at once, for Ishaq Khan never 
 left her side, and her mind and senses lay numbed and 
 still under the spell of his fascination. It is to Be doubted 
 
 282
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 263 
 
 that she loved him, love does not enter into such lists as 
 these, but for the time being she was his utterly and en- 
 tirely, bound by some spell, held by some enchantment. 
 She never paused in those first days to think of yesterday 
 or to-morrow, though sometimes her thoughts would stir 
 vaguely with memories of her childhood and she thought 
 of her mother a great deal. But of the force which had 
 driven her so remorselessly to leave the good, and choose 
 the evil in life, she could take but little count. It was 
 Fate, she supposed, and evil had lain dormant in her all 
 through those months and years even while she dreamed 
 she hated and resented it. Why had she been given the 
 power to hate and yet have been left lacking the strength 
 to resist evil ? 
 
 Yet all unknown to herself, a counter force was already 
 awake in Esther's heart, ready to do battle for the sake of 
 the lost past, a counter force that she had never dreamed 
 could lay hold on her life. How she followed its guid- 
 ance, even unto the gates of death, remains to be told. 
 
 The Garden Palace of Bholpur, it was there that 
 Ishaq Khan first took Esther, stands out a cool and vivid 
 splash of white against the trees and thick-growing shrubs 
 that hem it round. So much is it cut off from the other 
 Palace buildings and dwellings that it appears to be in a 
 land of its own. No noise from outside reaches into its 
 hushed solitude, even the sky is hardly to be seen through 
 the thick-leafed canopy overhead. It was built many 
 centuries ago by one of Jshaq Khan's forebears for a 
 favourite dancing-girl her name, Rose of the Garden, is 
 still enshrined in the carven marble and trellis work of 
 the verandah. 
 
 The building is square in shape and contains two rooms,
 
 264 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 both fronting with wide-open doors on to a tank of lan- 
 guid, scarcely ever ruffled water. Jessamine grows near 
 to, and up the pillars of the verandah, flinging its scented 
 blossoms into the rooms, filling the air with its still per- 
 fume. 
 
 Sometimes Esther wondered whether she hated or 
 loved the scent of the jessamine flowers, their perfume 
 seemed to clog her thoughts much in the same way as 
 Ishaq Khan's influence, and the scent of them was to per- 
 vade her life with an unforgettable hateful memory. She 
 had the place very much to herself, her only attendant 
 being a stout old ayah woman, Bagoo, who waited on her 
 single-handed, for though Esther was conscious of other 
 servants, bearing their voices outside, she never saw 
 them. Not until Ishaq Khan's first real absence when, 
 about a month after her arrival, he was called to Calcutta 
 and stayed away four days, did she realize to the full 
 extent her loneliness, or how absolutely she had cut her- 
 self adrift from the rest of the world. She had no occupa- 
 tions, no books even to read, and thought could afford 
 her no pleasant solace. 
 
 On the afternoon of Ishaq Khan's expected return 
 Esther lay waiting for him in the front room of the 
 Garden Palace. The room behind her, for she lay on a 
 couch of heaped-up cushions in the centre of one of the 
 wide openings, was gradually growing dark. Long 
 shadows were creeping into the corners and up the walls. 
 The little light there was played on the silver brushes on 
 the dressing-table and reflected itself in the long mirror 
 let into the wall. Esther was alone save for the fat 
 native woman, who crouched at the head of the couch 
 slowly waving a fan backwards and forwards. That
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 265 
 
 morning Esther had fainted while doing her hair, she still 
 felt a little dizzy and shaken. She was also a little sur- 
 prised because such a thing had never happened to her 
 before, and she was wondering vaguely what would be- 
 come of her should she be taken ill. The thought brought 
 with it a quick touch of fear, she sat up abruptly, putting 
 up her hands to her face, pushing the hair from her 
 eyes. 
 
 Bagoo, so quiet had her mistress lain this past hour, 
 looked up with a visible start. *' What does the Light 
 of the Stars desire ? " she asked in quaintly phrased 
 English. 
 
 Bagoo had been Minnie Brown's ayah, and from her 
 had picked up a queer smattering of the white folks' 
 tongue, which made her valuable, despite her dirt and 
 fatness, to her present mistress. 
 
 " I don't know," Esther answered. She got up quick- 
 ly to her feet, swaying a little. " I don't feel well, Bagoo. 
 
 I am afraid to be ill I am afraid " she spoke 
 
 hysterically. 
 
 Bagoo watched her with stolid patience nerves and 
 such kind of outbreaks she had grown accustomed to 
 from Minnie Brown. 
 
 " It grows dark. Without doubt that is what the 
 Presence means. I will fetch lights." 
 
 She hobbled slowly and ponderously into the other 
 room ; Esther could hear much shrill abuse being ex- 
 changed between her and the menservants. It was 
 growing dark as Bagoo had said, she could see her figure 
 faint and indefinite like some ghost reflected in the 
 imrror. 
 
 The woman returned presently, a grotesque figure, a
 
 266 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 lamp in either hand. " There," she remarked with a fat 
 sigh of satisfaction, placing them one on each side of the 
 looking-glass, " now can the Light of the Stars see to 
 dress herself. Abdul has word of our lord's arrival in 
 the Palace. As for illness the Presence need have no 
 fear of that, 'tis common among women to feel thus when 
 'tis the first babe." 
 
 For a second, it seemed to Esther as if time stood still 
 to hear the sound her heart was making, she struggled 
 with the meaning of the woman's words. Then with dry 
 lips that almost refused to speak she repeated them. 
 
 " The first babe ? " she whispered, her voice rose to a 
 scream. " What are you saying, Bagoo ? not that, oh 
 God ! say I haven't done that." 
 
 Bagoo watched her with a certain amount of concern. 
 " Did the memsahib not guess or know ? " she asked. 
 Her face assumed an expression of intense interest. " I 
 guessed from the first day this morning when the Pre- 
 sence fell, I was by her side and caught her. Now that 
 the Presence knows, there is no need to fear, her time is 
 not yet awhile." 
 
 Esther hardly heard, the truth of the woman's belief 
 she never doubted, the awful horror of the wrong she had 
 done to Gerald surged up and up against her brain, till she 
 thought she must go mad with it. Almost against her 
 will she moved across to the mirror, and stood staring at 
 her reflected self. Her English clothes had been taken 
 from her on the first day, she was dressed now in long 
 spangled drawers gathered in at the ankles with heavy 
 gold anklets, her over-vest was of the same material. 
 Every line and curve of her body was visible under the 
 thin stuff, gold bracelets and necklaces lay on her arms
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 267 
 
 and neck. Her hair was heavily scented, her eyes care- 
 fully blackened, her mouth coloured to a vivid scarlet. 
 Evilly beautiful, that was it, and hateful, altogether hate- 
 ful, truth stared at her from the mirror at least. With a 
 cry of fear she covered her eyes from the picture and 
 shrank back. 
 
 Bagoo took it upon herself to interfere, her ears had 
 caught the sound of approaching footsteps. 
 
 " The Lord of the Harem is at hand," she said, and 
 Esther dropping her hands turned her back on the mirror 
 and faced round. She knew fear at that moment, wild 
 primaeval mother fear, not for herself, but for the life 
 within herself, which must at all costs be saved from this 
 man. 
 
 Ishaq Khan stood in the door watching her with a 
 curious smile. He was immaculately attired in English 
 riding kit, his black hair brushed very sleek to hj^ head. 
 In his hand he carried a small riding -whip, with which he 
 flicked the tops of his boots. 
 
 " Well," he said, " has time hung heavy, Esther ? 
 glad I am back ? " He came across to her, flinging his 
 riding whip on the couch in passing, and taking her two 
 hands pulled her half carelessly into the circle of his 
 arms. 
 
 Instinctively she would have drawn back but all her 
 mind was sharpened by fear ; she must not let him see, 
 lest he should guess her secret. 
 
 " The days have been long," she heard herself saying, 
 " it is dull and terribly lonely when you are away. I feel 
 like some bird that is caged." 
 
 Ishaq Khan laughed. " You are hysterical, Esther." 
 He dropped her hands and walking to the window flung
 
 268 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 himself on the couch. " It is by my wish and orders 
 that you are not allowed out beyond these walls. You 
 forget that you and I have sinned against the canons of 
 the Government ; I am not afraid of public opinion and it 
 is too late for you to fear it, but at the same time there 
 are limits, and my Resident is an extraordinary man." 
 
 " Mr. McDermot, do you mean ? " asked Esther, 
 " does he live near here ? " 
 
 "Far enough, and yet near enough to be in the way," 
 Ishaq Khan answered. " But in any case you couldn't 
 go about like an ordinary person now you are one of my 
 Harem, you must see that." 
 
 " Yes," said Esther. " Tell me," she went on, lifting 
 her eyes to his for a moment, " what has happened 
 outside, I mean." 
 
 " You mean monsieur, the young and amiable hus- 
 band ? " he stared across at her and the look on his face 
 puzzled Esther. " You are dead to them all," he said. 
 
 She did not grasp his meaning. " I suppose I am," 
 she answered dully ; under the rouge her white face 
 flushed. " To all intents and purposes I am dead 
 here," she ended. 
 
 " To more than all intents and purposes you are dead," 
 Ishaq Khan's voice held a sneer in it. " I don't know 
 what Hamilton and Crow played for to save a scandal 
 I suppose anyway, poor young Mrs. Hamilton died of 
 cholera the night, of the ball." He paused a moment. 
 " They have put up a pathetic cross to your memory," 
 he added. " By the way, come over here, that I may feel 
 and touch you who are dead to every one in the world but 
 me." 
 
 His careless insolent tone roused some rebellious nerve
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 269 
 
 in Esther, but again fear bade her hide her feelings, and 
 she crossed the room to him. 
 
 " So," said Ishaq Khan, he pulled her to her knees in 
 front of him, " now you are mine entirely, what shall I 
 do with you, beautiful one ? have you any idea ? " She 
 could scarcely see his face, for his back was to the lamps, 
 but the touch of his hands on her filled her with such shud- 
 dering revulsion that her control gave way and she rose, 
 pushing his hands from her. 
 
 " Don't touch me," she said, " I can't bear it some- 
 thing has happened that alters everything. I can't stay 
 with you, you must let me go away. What does it matter 
 what people think or say, I needn't go back they say I 
 am dead, well, I can stay dead, but not with you, not 
 near you to be touched by your hands, looked at by your 
 eyes. You must let me go, you must, you must." 
 
 Her voice broke in hysterical sobbing she crouched 
 where she stood, leaning against the pillars, her hands 
 outstretched as if to keep him from her. 
 
 Ishaq Khan watched her, his face had lost all semblance 
 of culture, passion flamed in his eyes and twisted his 
 mouth. When her sobbing had quietened somewhat he 
 leant a little towards her. " So," he said, " what is all 
 this, why this sudden dislike of me and my hands ? " 
 His eyes caught and held Esther's ; as if fascinated by 
 their stare she drew a little nearer him and he stood up, 
 throwing his arms round her, drawing her to him. " Kiss 
 me," he whispered, ready triumph sounded in his voice. 
 " Kiss me, and let's hear no more of this nonsense, 
 Esther." 
 
 The old clinging sweetness and spell seemed closing 
 round her, but the new instruct was strong, stronger even
 
 270 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 than she realized she struggled in his arms and broke 
 free. 
 
 " No," she repeated, her breath coming quickly, her 
 eyes wide with fear, " no, no. I want to get away, 
 don't you understand. I can't bear you to touch me or 
 make love to me, I want to get away, right away. Your 
 hands are black black ! " 
 
 She was more than a little hysterical ; Ishaq Khan's 
 eyes narrowed as he watched her. 
 
 " Very well," he said finally, " I shall not touch you 
 again, since that is what you wish. But I have not quite 
 finished with you ; you cannot push me aside as a toy 
 that you are tired of. I have taken from you all that 
 you had to give, haven't I, body and soul, and honour, 
 there is only your beauty left for me to torture and 
 destroy, and I will do it, make no mistake there." He 
 rose and came across the room to her and the strength 
 went from her, she fell to her knees at his feet, putting up 
 hands that clung to him in terror. 
 
 " Prince, Prince," she begged, " what are you saying ? 
 have you gone mad or is this a game to frighten me ? I 
 
 " A game ! " he laughed roughly, and flung her hands 
 from him so that she lay crouched on the floor. " You 
 shall see how much of a game it is when I shall wreak my 
 passion on you. I want to see the red lines of blood on 
 your skin, I want to feel it run and hear you cry for 
 mercy, you who hate me because you are white." 
 
 He turned from her, and walking to the door at the 
 back of the room e held aside the curtain. " Abdul ! " he 
 called, "Abdul!" 
 
 Esther did not see the negro come into the room, but
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 271 
 
 she heard his step and felt him stoop to lift her ; at his 
 touch her terror found voice and she screamed loudly. 
 " Don't let him touch me," she cried, " anything but 
 that don't let him touch me." 
 
 Her frenzy made her strong, she broke from Abdul and 
 ran wildly to the farthest corner of the room. 
 
 The negro regarded the scene, a wide grin on his dusky 
 countenance. " She is strong," he remarked gravely to 
 Ishaq Khan, " I will get help." 
 
 He strode to the door and returned presently with two 
 dark-skinned coolies, and between them they stripped 
 and beat Esther, beat her till the wet rope cut lines of red 
 on the fair skin, and the warm blood dropped and trickled 
 slowly from each line. She made no sound, it may be 
 pride helped her there, and she lay face downwards on 
 the floor till it almost seemed as if they wreaked their 
 vengeance on a dead thing. Abdul anyway was of that 
 opinion. With an. abrupt word to his assistants he dis- 
 missed them, and stooping shifted Esther's body face 
 uppermost, wiping his hands scrupulously clean from the 
 blood that smeared them. 
 
 " She has had all she can bear, Lord," he announced, 
 glancing up at the Prince, " it is of little use to inflict pain 
 on a dead thing." 
 
 Ishaq Khan came slowly across and looked down on the 
 woman. " She did not cry out," he asserted sullenly. 
 
 The negro shrugged his shoulders. " Without doubt 
 the pain silenced her," he said. 
 
 Ishaq Khan turned on his heel. " Take her to the 
 women's quarters," he ordered, " fetch Bagoo to her ; if it 
 is possible see that she does not die." 
 
 Abdul after his departure summoned his assistant?
 
 272 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 again, and with surprisingly gentle hands they staunched 
 and wiped clean the wheals on Esther's back and side, 
 then the two coolies carrying the still insensible figure, 
 covered now with a white cloth, with Abdul to lead the 
 way, passed out into the night.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 No hope, no change I The clouds have shut us in, 
 
 And through the cloud the sullen sun strikes down 
 Full on the bosom of the tortured town. 
 
 R. Kipling. 
 
 ALMOST McDermot's first action on his return to 
 Bholpur was to send for Rutna. 
 
 " Rutna," he said, " the day before we left here foi 
 Shillong, when driving on my way back from the Palace, 
 I passed the chota Hamiltons' bearer in the road. If the 
 man is still here I would have speech with him." 
 
 Rutna salaamed gravely, allowing no surprise at the 
 request to appear on his face, and continued tidying 
 away his sahib's clothes. 
 
 " I have heard tell in the servants' quarters that he is 
 leaving to-day," he ventured presently. " I myself have 
 had no speech with Him," 
 
 " Well, hurry up, leave those things then," commanded 
 his master, " and go and find the man at once." 
 
 Rutna found Shahjahan after a somewhat lengthy visit 
 to the Bazaar. He was aided in his search by Shahja- 
 han's stout brother-in-law, who informed Rutna in pass- 
 ing that Shahjahan appeared to have found some subject 
 very much in common with Narrayan, the sightless 
 water-carrier, for the two of them could nearly always be 
 found together. Rutna had hjfl own shrewd suspicion as 
 
 273
 
 274 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 to what the subject might be, but contented himself by 
 getting rid of Hira Lai as quickly as possible and finding 
 his way to Narrayan's hut. There was Shahjahan true 
 enough, squatting on the raised platform under the shade 
 of the enormous peepul and indulging in what was of 
 necessity somewhat a one-sided argument with his strange 
 companion. Rutna had only'once seen Narrayan at close 
 quarters, and he had no wish to repeat the experiment, 
 therefore he stood where he was on the path and hailed 
 Shahjahan. 
 
 " Thou art to come with me to the Residency, 
 Shahjahan, the Lat Sahib (Governor) would have speech 
 with thee." 
 
 Shahjahan rose in somewhat of a disbelieving mood. 
 " Of a truth, brother ? How knows he that I am here 
 even ? " 
 
 " My Sahib," said Rutna, visible pride in the utterance, 
 and not lowering his voice in the slightest, " has the ears 
 and the eyes of a devil. He sees and knows all ; make 
 haste, brother, keep him not waiting." 
 
 Narrayan stood up on the sudden, his groping hands 
 caught at Shahjahan's coat, his voiceless question was 
 quite understandable. Shahjahan prevaricated easily. 
 
 " Yes, yes," he assured him, " I will speak of you to 
 the Resident Sahib, have no fear, his ear shall know of 
 your complaint." Then he pulled himself away and 
 joined Rutna on the road. 
 
 McDermot had moved into his office by the time the 
 two men arrived, and in a manner though he found it 
 difficult to focus his mind on anything started the work 
 of the day. He was doing rather an unusual thing he 
 knew in thus sending for another man's servant and
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 275 
 
 questioning him on such a matter, but he had dealt long 
 enough with natives to know that their ideas of correct 
 procedure varied from the English one, and at present he 
 was handling a case that had very little of the English 
 element in it. Therefore he received Shahjahan sur- 
 rounded by his panoply of office, there was no secrecy 
 about the matter, and waving the man to a position in 
 front of his desk ordered Rutna to clear the room of 
 chuprassis that they might be alone. 
 
 Shahjahan was uncomfortable and ill at ease that was 
 the effect McDermot had hoped this official atmosphere 
 might produce. He looked up as soon as they were alone, 
 meeting the rather nervous eyes with his keen blue ones. 
 
 " You know," he said, McDermot spoke Urdu like a 
 native, " what I wish to speak to you of ? " 
 
 " Huzoor," Shahjahan prevaricated, for somehow, 
 facing this man's eyes, he did know, " how should one, 
 who is but as the dust of your honour's feet, know what is 
 in your honour's mind ? " 
 
 " You know," McDermot repeated ; his eyes nevei 
 wavered. 
 
 Shahjahan salaamed hurriedly. " Of a truth," he 
 began again, but McDermot held up his hand. 
 
 " That is enough," he said. " If you will not tell me 
 of your own free will I must speak more plainly. You 
 came to Bholpur because there was something " he 
 paused a second, and again his eyes held Shahjahan's, 
 " something that had to do with the last night of the 
 Bholpur camp about which you were curious. And 
 you came to Bholpur because you thought you could 
 find this knowledge in the Palace, is that not so ? " 
 
 The question was abrupt, Shahjahan jumped. -
 
 276 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 " The wisdom of the huzoor is as that of the All 
 Seeing," he acknowledged meekly. 
 
 " Well," said McDermot ; he picked up a little paper- 
 knife that lay on the table and bent it in his fingers, 
 " what have you found out, Shahjahan, that is what I 
 desire to know ? " 
 
 " Huzoor," Shahjahan took a step nearer the table, his 
 eyes searched the room for a possible eavesdropper, and 
 though there was no one visible he dropped his voice to a 
 whisper. 
 
 " There is nothing to find out, huzoor," he said, " for 
 the memsahib is dead." 
 
 The paper-knife snapped in those strong fingers, 
 McDermot picked up the pieces and fitted them together 
 mechanically as he answered. 
 
 " How do you know this ? " he asked. 
 
 " I will tell," Shahjahan replied ; he drew himself still 
 nearer the table and spoke quickly in carefully lowered 
 tones. " Know then, huzoor, that I have done this not 
 for curiosity as you would suppose, but for love of my 
 sahib, who is unto me father, mother and son, I having 
 none of these of my own blood. Your wisdom has dis- 
 covered that while my sahib lay at death's door the 
 other sahibs arranged this matter of the white mem's 
 death to save disgrace ; without doubt it was well done, 
 but I love my sahib, and I know, none better, how dear he 
 held this white woman, so I waited, and when I found 
 that because of her death for huzoor, my sahib thinks 
 her to be dead the days held no more joy for him, I 
 made up my mind to find her, and if possible to take her 
 back to him. So I came to Bholpur, and three nights 
 ago one who hates the Prince for great good reason led
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 277 
 
 me by secret paths to the Garden Palace, and I hid in the 
 bushes by the side of the tank. There were lights and 
 noise in the Palace, servants hurrying to and fro, and for 
 a long time I waited. Then presently the Prince came 
 forth, walking carelessly like one distraught, his face as he 
 passed me looking like those whom God has touched with 
 madness. Then one by one the lights died down, the 
 noises in the Palace ceased, and I was about to creep for- 
 ward when I saw four men come out and between them 
 they carried some limp body covered with the death 
 sheet, while one man walked in front carrying a lantern. 
 And as they came opposite my hiding-place, they paused, 
 the weight being heavy on the off-bearer's hands, to shift 
 their burden. And one man, it was the one who had felt 
 the burden heavy, said to his fellows : * Where do they 
 bury such as she, have we far to go ?' I heard not the 
 answer, huzoor, for at that moment the man with the 
 lantern turned and the light fell across the thing they 
 carried, touching on its face, which had fallen a little side- 
 ways from the death sheet and so hung uncovered. 
 Then I knew that I looked upon the face of the white 
 woman and that she was dead." 
 
 He paused, McDennot had not looked at him through 
 the recital, nor did he hit his eyes now. 
 
 " That being so," Shahjahan drew himself up a little, 
 "it entered my head there was no more to be done. 
 What need to embitter the mind of my sahib against his 
 own folk. The mem is of a certainty dead, in time the 
 pain of his heart will ease a little and he will forget." 
 
 McDermot's lips moved. " If I had only acted in the 
 'ferst place 1 " he was whispering to himself ; the thought 
 was bitter in his heart. Then he stood up, and dropping
 
 278 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 the broken paper-knife into the basket, faced Shahjahan. 
 The man had spoken truth to him, he knew that, brown 
 eyes met blue squarely. 
 
 " You have done well, Shahjahan," he said. " This 
 matter shall go no further. And you are a good servant 
 to your sahib ; if you should ever need help or service 
 come to me, I shall be glad to give it." 
 
 But after the man had gone, the Resident went back to 
 his office table and for a second before he could again put 
 forth his hand and deal with the work that lay round 
 him waiting to be done, he covered his eyes, shutting out 
 a world that had grown of a sudden hateful to him. 
 
 So Shahjahan went back to his sahib a fortnight before 
 his leave was up, but as he explained to Gerald whilst 
 pulling ofi his polo boots : " The affairs of my brother's 
 house were set in order quicker than I thought possible 
 and was it likely that I should leave this budly (substi- 
 tute) to torment thee longer than was needful ? As it is 
 he has completely ruined one of the sahib's almost new 
 suits of clothes by careless packing." 
 
 " Rot ! " Gerald remonstrated, " he was quite a good 
 boy. All the same I am glad you are back, Shahjahan, 
 no one else keeps my polo sticks really fit to use." 
 
 And Shahjahan, though careful not to voice his idea, 
 was grateful to think that polo should once more be inter- 
 esting to the heart of his sahib. 
 
 McDermot had a letter from the Hamiltons about 
 a month after his interview with Shahjahan. Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton had not been very well and was being shipped home, 
 Mr. Hamilton hoped to follow himself in the course of a 
 month for three months' leave ; they had good news from 
 Gerald, he seemed to be getting quite cheerful again.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 279 
 
 McDennot put the letter aside unanswered, he could 
 not as yet forgive the Hamiltons. 
 
 It is to be believed that Marjorie realized this. 
 
 " He knows," she said in speaking of McDermot to her 
 husband. " I knew he guessed that time in Shillong. 
 And he liked Esther; I can understand that he can forgive 
 us just as little as I can forgive myself. Oh, Jack, won't 
 you see how wrong it is, and tell Gerald the truth ? " 
 
 " To save you from worrying over it, I believe I would," 
 Jack admitted, " but can't you see, dearest, how it really 
 has been for the best. As for Gerald, why, dear one, what 
 was his last letter full of polo, mixed in with Miss 
 Thomas. Gerald is forgetting, as I knew he would. Be- 
 lieve me, Marjorie, I knew the brother when I decided on 
 that scheme of not telling him. He was always, as a 
 baby, easily pleased, easily reduced to tears. My earliest 
 recollection of him is when he was four and I was twelve, 
 on our first voyage home to England. Gerald displayed 
 an enormous capacity for eating ginger biscuits, even in 
 the midst of the most horrible pangs of sea-sickness. He 
 would eat until he was ill, wait a few minutes, and eat 
 again. It's not romantic, but it's a striking example of 
 Gerald's philosophy." 
 
 " I wish I thought the same as you do," sighed Mar- 
 jorie. " And, anyway, apart from Gerald, there is the 
 girl to be thought of. I simply can't get Esther out of 
 my mind, Jack ; one hears such terrible things about 
 harems." 
 
 " Most of them nonsense, dear one," Jack answered. 
 " Believe me, the girl is happy more so than sh* 
 deserves to be." 
 
 His face hardened,and Marjorie gave up the discussion.
 
 280 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 She was beginning to realize that there was a good deal 
 of tough Scotch granite in her husband's character. 
 
 Marjorie's boat was about the last one to leave Bom- 
 bay, carrying its precious freight of women and children, 
 before the hot weather set in. There is always a great 
 exodus of families towards the end of April all who can 
 migrate, either across the seas or up to the hills, leaving 
 the less fortunate to face as well as they can the prospect 
 of three months in which no cloud will soften the hard 
 blueness of the skies, or dim even for a second the sun's 
 fierce fire. In such places as Calcutta or Bombay the 
 hot weather is, in these days of electric fans, a thing to 
 smile at, but in those little outlying posts, dotted all over 
 the wide plains of India, where civilization has as yet 
 brought none of her luxuries, it is a thing to be feared 
 and shunned. There, cholera, plague and famine stalk 
 hand in hand with a heat so overpowering that it saps 
 the strength from mind and body and kills sometimes 
 the soul in man. And it is in just such places that the 
 men of England give yearly their dole of work and often 
 life, and it is because of those lonely scattered graves 
 that army of sad-eyed ghosts, who died with no glory nor 
 even hope of glory in the laying down of their lives that 
 our hold on India is as strong, as unshakable, as it is. 
 
 Bholpur, as Brown had once in a fit of temper de- 
 clared, was as near to being like Hell in the hot weather 
 as any place could be. The sun blazed abroad from 
 4 a.m onwards, and even the nights, with no suspicion 
 of a breeze, hung close and heavy, causing the atmo- 
 sphere to closely resemble an oven at a great deal more 
 than baking point. Brown himself slept, or rather 
 grunted and grumbled, upon a tight stretched skin bed
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 281 
 
 placed on the verandah under a punkah. Several times 
 in the course of the night Brown would roll out of bed 
 and have his couch sluiced down with water, swearing 
 though this McDermot refused to believe that the 
 water hissed and steamed as it ran. 
 
 In the day-time, the Residency was shuttered at every 
 available window and door to keep out, as much as pos- 
 sible, the fierce sunshine, and Brown's costume was of 
 the scantiest variety, and certainly would not have 
 passed muster in Bond Street. He wore, during these 
 hot weather days, a vest of silk merino, a pair of cotton 
 (" more like muslin," Donaldson had been heard to 
 remark) pants, and patent-leather slippers, looking 
 grotesque as a finishing to long, hairy, bare legs. Patent 
 leather pumps were Brown's peculiar fad ; any one else 
 would have considered them conducive to heat. 
 
 At 6.30 p.m., for thus are Englishmen constituted, the 
 society of Bholphur donned flannels and sallied forth 
 to play tennis. Tennis make a note of it, with the 
 temperature at 115 in the shade. There was only one 
 tennis court in Bholpur, standing in the club grounds, 
 and composed of asphalt. Brown had tried grass it 
 absolutely dried up and vanished during May. He had 
 tried mud that washed itself to nothing during the 
 monsoon ; asphalt alone seemed able to withstand all 
 the rigours of the climate, so asphalt it remained. 
 
 Here, every evening of their lives, Brown, McDermot, 
 Donaldson and Lyall played tennis. Sometimes the 
 Black Beetle joined them, but he was not keen on the 
 ' game and they were four without him. When it became 
 too dark for tennis they would stroll into the club and, 
 changing into fresh flannels, play billiards until dinnei
 
 282 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 time. Here Miss Lyall joined them, to sit and watch 
 their efforts, or peruse the weekly English papers. There 
 was not much conversation, because naturally there waa 
 very little to discuss, but these evening hours were the 
 social side of their lives, and the fact of one member 
 being absent was wont to cast a surprising gloom over 
 the party. 
 
 There is something ridiculous in this picture. To see 
 the strength and sadness of it one must needs be an 
 initiated Anglo-Indian. To have lived it is to know, and 
 no outsider will ever be able to understand. 
 
 Donaldson, being new to the life, and very young, 
 started the hot weather by taking things too strenuously, 
 with the result that by the middle of June it was deemed 
 expedient to dismiss him to the hills. Boils attacked 
 him, fever tickled him up, a touch of dysentry nearly 
 finished him off. He was, for a youth keen on society, 
 strangely unwilling to take his leave ; the real reason of 
 this he confided to Brown, in a burst of explanatory argu- 
 ments, the day before his journey was decided on. 
 
 " It's old Ra Chandra's brother," he said. " That time 
 he was in my charge, after Ra Chandra's attempt on 
 Hamilton, I got sort of fond of him, and I want to keep 
 an eye on him he's only a kid, you know. Ra Chandra, 
 they say, is practically dying he takes it hard, the boy. 
 I wanted to keep in touch with him, have him up here 
 for confabs and things keep him away from that rotten 
 bazaar lot." 
 
 " The lad may be all you say, but he isn't going to be 
 allowed to ruin your health or my reputation as a Doc- 
 tor," retorted Brown. " To the hills you go, young 
 man, the moment you can be moved. For the matter
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 283 
 
 of thnt.I'll place a fatherly eye on this particular limb 
 of Satan myself, if that will console you." 
 
 It did not particularly. Donaldson hardly trusted that 
 Brown's blunt kindness, even if he remembered to apply 
 it, would be of much use, but he could see the hopeless- 
 ness of further argument. 
 
 Ten days later he was packed into the Shillong Mail 
 by Brown and borne oS hillwards, while the remainder 
 of Bholpur society, slightly depressed by the loss of 
 their youngest and noisiest member, went stolidly on 
 with their round of work, baths, tennis, billiards more 
 baths and bed.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 " But lo ! the path is missed, I must go back, 
 And thirst to drink when next I reach the spring 
 Which once I stained, which since may have grown black." 
 
 TUNE finished, giving place to July, and still the hot 
 Jp weather flamed abroad in Bholpur. Its iron 
 hand lay on Palace and hovel alike ; even the jungle 
 showed parched under its glare. Nowhere was the heat 
 more intense, the blaze of the sun more fierce, than in the 
 marble square of the Harem of the Palace. The high 
 walls shut out whatever faint chance of a breeze there 
 might have been, the marble stones caught and reflected 
 the sun with dazzling splendour. The water in the centre 
 tank had dried up and vanished, the palms in pots 
 standing at the four corners were withered and dead ; 
 there seemed no shade, no rest for the eyes wherever one 
 looked. 
 
 Evidently the inmates were conscious of this, for the 
 trellised verandahs were deserted and the doors along 
 them were shut against the devastating heat. Com- 
 plete silence reigned all day, except when the fretful 
 whimper of a child broke on the air, or some woman's 
 voice was raised in shrill argument. How did they pass 
 their days, the countless women, who were all round her, 
 Esther sometimes wondered. In sleep, she must suppose, 
 
 284
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 285 
 
 since work was palpably out of the question, in the dim 
 shuttered gloom of their rooms. For herself, she scarcely 
 ever slept, and the days and nights passed so monoton- 
 ously the same that sometimes she was driven to think 
 she no longer really lived, but that this body of hers was 
 some wistful ghost struggling through interminable 
 shadows. How long she ;had been in this little shut- 
 tered room she could not tell. The days counted as long 
 years, and she had grown to dread the outside world, 
 the hard bright sun, the noise of human voices, when 
 twilight let out the other women of the harem to sit 
 in little chattering groups on the verandah steps. 
 
 Esther had come back to life within the four walls of 
 the room in which she now lived, after the night of agony 
 which ended her life in the Garden Palace. Of what 
 had happened to her after Abdul stooped to touch her 
 she had no recollection. Merciful unconsciousness had 
 fallen round her with the first blow, but the scars re- 
 mained where the lash had fallen, and the agony of shame 
 cut deeper into her heart than blows could have done. 
 When she had wakened, as from some troubled dream, 
 it was to find herself lying in a small dimly-lit room. 
 The bed, hard and uncomfortable, on which she lay, 
 stretched the length of the wall on one side ; the one tiny 
 window set high above her head was thickly barred by 
 trellised brick wotk, so that the light which filtered 
 through was dim and uncertain even when blazing mid- 
 day held the world outside. There was nothing else 
 in the room except a. small gilt mirror on the opposite 
 wrll. and a green chic, which hung immovable in the 
 doorway. 
 ' Bagoo had been there to v ait on her. Under the rough
 
 286 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 but not unskilful fingers, the long lines of pain on Esther's 
 body had healed up into faint white scars. And Bagoo 
 had been sympathetic and voluble in broken English. 
 From her Esther had learnt that Ishaq Khan had left 
 Bholpur, had sailed, so rumour had it in the Palace, 
 across the Black water to Bilati the land of the white 
 folk. Muzfat reigned in the Palace, Abdul in the Harem. 
 They had their orders, so Bagoo knew, to keep the white 
 mem a prisoner, and without doubt Abdul would see 
 that was done ; but, otherwise, she was free of the trel- 
 lised verandahs, the marble square, the company of the 
 other women. They would not ill-treat her. She had 
 nothing to fear there, because of the child life that lay 
 in her keeping. She was, as it were, sacred to the Harem 
 women's eyes, so great a sanctity does motherhood carry 
 with it in the East. 
 
 But Esther shrank from mixing with them. She did 
 not define it to herself, but within her heart had waked 
 such a horror of their colour and their ways that she 
 preferred even the solitude and shadowed gloom of her 
 room. Only at midday, when the rest of the Harem 
 lay with doors tightly barred against the sun, would 
 she fling open her door and, lying on the floor, stretch 
 out her arms till her fingers just touched the sun-bathed 
 doorstep. These midday hours, and Bagoo's daily 
 visits, were her only communication with the outside 
 world. It is little wonder that sometimes she seemed 
 mad, and always, waking or sleeping, strange forms and 
 imaginations occupied her thoughts. 
 
 On this particular day in mid- July, while silence and 
 solitude held the outside world, Esther lay, not in her 
 usual position by the door, but crouched up near the
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 287 
 
 bed, one arm out-flung across it. Opposite her squatted 
 Bagoo, and between the women, spread on the floor 
 and half tumbling off the bed, were piled up heaps of 
 finery, soft silk sarees, spangled veils, gold ornaments and 
 jewelled threads. Esther's face lay hidden in her out- 
 stretched arm. Her whole form expressed shrinking fear ; 
 such dread was in her heart at the news Bagoo had 
 brought her, that it kept her dazed and quiet. Bagoo, 
 on the other hand, was agog with some excitement. 
 
 " Look, Light of the Stars," she babbled. " I have 
 brought for you all the finery I could lay hands on. To- 
 morrow you must appear beautiful, more beautiful than 
 ever before. Surely it is a favourable sign that our lord 
 has sent to ask of your well being. To-morrow he re- 
 turns, and surely by your beauty you shall win back to 
 favour ; and his displeasure, which since a child has been 
 a sudden passion that moves swiftly from him, shall be 
 over, and you and I shall return to the Garden Palace. 
 Look up, my heart, see this fine gold for your hair." 
 She paused in her harangue and eyed Esther anxiously. 
 If what Abdul had given her to understand was true 
 and the lord of the Harem was returning to his old 
 allegiance, her services must be remembered favour- 
 ably. 
 
 " And what need to fear," she went on, bending her 
 fat face a little nearer ; " hast thou not that to give him 
 shortly that will cause his heart to leap with delight. 
 He knows not yet of the babe ; pray Heaven it be a son," 
 she ended soothingly, and put out a hand to smooth the 
 arm nearest her. 
 
 JHer words carried little meaning to Esther. She was 
 only conscious of one thought Ishaq Khan was coming
 
 288 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 back. What could it mean, save more torture, more 
 shame, more terrible days of pain. 
 
 Bagoo, finding all her efforts at soothing conversa- 
 tion repulsed, was laying out in seemly order the things 
 she had brought. They had been in past days part of 
 Minnie Brown's finery, and in the course of her tidying, 
 Bagoo came across a heavy gold waist cord that had been 
 specially designed for Minnie Brown in the days of her 
 power. It finished off at the end with one splendid 
 uncut emerald and from this hung a thin inwrought 
 chain of gold, to which was attached a very common- 
 place looking vanity box. The little thing, so tawdry 
 and unvaluable, jarred with its setting; it had been so 
 typical of Minnie Brown. Bagoo touched it, however, 
 with admiring hands. 
 
 " There is scent in this," she assured Esther, tugging 
 at her arm to command attention, " which will succeed 
 if aught else fails. One drop mounts to a man's head, 
 making him love past all knowledge, while the spell 
 lasts. 1 know the secret of its opening, for the other 
 white mem showed it me." 
 
 The other white mem ; that touched on Esther's hear- 
 ing as nothing else had done ; she raised her head and 
 put out her hand for what, Bagoo held. 
 
 " The other white mem ? " she asked. " What do 
 you mean, Bagoo ? " 
 
 Now Bagoo had not meant to speak of Minnie Brown. 
 It is unlucky to speak of the dead, for one thing, and for 
 another, it had been well impressed on the servants of the 
 Palace that this particular white woman and her death 
 were to be forgotten ; therefore, she prevaricated quickly 
 in answer to Esther's question.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drura 289 
 
 " 'Tis long since she lived here. Even I and I am 
 full old can scarce remember her." 
 
 " But she lived here ? " Esther asked mechanically, 
 her fingers closed on the little trinket box. " She died 
 here ? " her eyes went round the room, and she shivered. 
 
 " Of a truth I know nothing about her," Bagoo an- 
 swered, " save that I saw her once when I was a child 
 and remember hearing tell of the scent she carried in the 
 bottle. Look ! " she leant forward, eager to divert the 
 conversation. " I will show you how the spring works." 
 
 Her ringers, even as they fumbled, chanced on the 
 spring and the box opened in Esther's hands. The 
 scent it had once contained had long since evaporated ; 
 a tiny screwed up piece of paper occupied the vacant 
 space. Esther took it out, unfolding it with stiff fingers. 
 It was very faintly written on. She had to move over to 
 the door before she could decipher it. Then the English 
 words danced for a second before her eyes, so that she 
 could scarcely make them out: 
 
 " To you who come after me, should you be English, ' 
 as I am, I write these words and hide them here so that 
 he shall not find them. I am dying, and it is too late 
 now to go back, but you perhaps will be able to escape 
 along the lines I planned. Ask for Narrayan Bagoo can 
 bring him to you. Life is Hell here, do I need to tell 
 you that, I wonder, and in the end he will kill you as he 
 is killing me." 
 
 The writing ended abruptly as if the writer had been 
 interrupted. 
 
 Bagoo, who had been watching Esther furtively, even 
 while she appeared to be busy tidying away the things
 
 290 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 she had brought, waddled across to her now that the 
 reading was finished. 
 
 " There is naught but lies or mad talk on the paper ; 
 best throw it away, the memory of the woman pleases 
 not our lord." 
 
 " Why did you lie to me about her ? " asked Esther. 
 
 Bagoo grunted uneasily and moved from one foot to 
 the other. 
 
 " Truth is not always good, Light of the Stars," she 
 answered ; " we have orders here never to speak of 
 the woman ; her name slipped unknowingly from my 
 tongue." 
 
 " And she was killed," asked Esther, " in this room ? " 
 She had always had an unexplainable feeling of horror 
 for this room. 
 
 " The Gods forbid," Bagoo retorted quickly ; " she 
 died, after many days illness and was glad of death." 
 She nodded her head sagely and lifted a fat hand to 
 pat Esther's arm. " Think no more of her, Light of the 
 Stars, the Gods shall deal otherwise to you. Is not the 
 favour of the lord to return to you ? Abdul has certain 
 news." 
 
 " No, no " Esther turned away from the door and the 
 glare of the sun, where it glinted in under the chic. Her 
 voice broke into a torrent of sobs ; she put out her hands, 
 pushing Bagoo aside, and stumbled over to the bed, 
 flinging herself down beside it again. " I can't bear 
 any more. God, let me die, let me die." 
 
 The native woman followed. She was a little moved 
 to pity by Esther's passionate distress, though she could 
 in no way understand it. 
 
 *' Nay, hush, hush," she soothed, bending over th
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 291 
 
 shaking form with clumsy sympathy. " What is it, Light 
 of the Stars ? there is no cause for such sorrow. You 
 will be careful now not to anger our lord, and there is 
 no fear of a second beating." 
 
 Esther turned to her, clutching at her hands desper- 
 ately. " You are sorry for me, Bagoo. You have been 
 kind to me, help me to get away, help me to hide, help 
 me, help me." 
 
 Bagoo moved uneasily. " Light of the Stars, how is 
 it possible ? " she said. " I am but a slave in the house- 
 hold of the Master, his vengeance would fall on me." 
 
 She seemed yielding, she was undoubtedly pitiful. 
 Esther seized on the hope the white woman's letter had 
 given her. 
 
 " There is Narrayan," she said ; " this pthei woman 
 speaks of Narrayan, he will help me." 
 
 The name produced a peculiar effect on Bagoo. She 
 drew her hands away instantly and her eyes showed 
 fear. 
 
 " Narrayan," she whispered, " where heard you that 
 name ? " 
 
 " It is written on the paper," Esther explained eagerly. 
 She caught again at Bagoo's saree. " At least, you will 
 fetch him to me, there is naught to fear in doing that." 
 
 But pity had left Bagoo's heart, driven out by a stern 
 sense of self-preservation. She had seen Narrayan only 
 once since the justice of the Prince had been doled out 
 to him ; the memory was sufficient. 
 
 " We talk foolishness," she answered sharply, and 
 shook herself free from the clinging hands. "I am no 
 pjirty to such deeds, and let not our lord hear that 
 name on your lips, or it will go ill with both of us."
 
 292 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 She stooped to gather up an armful of disregarded 
 finery. " I will come again later, when this fancy shall 
 have left you," she said, and turned towards the door. 
 
 So intent had they been in their talk that neither of 
 them had noticed a slight displacement of the chic which 
 hung before the door. Bound the edge of it, stealthily, 
 to begin with, then more boldly, since it was unnoticed, 
 slid a small delicately shaped hand. Slowly the chink 
 widened, till finally a girl's figure, thinly draped with a 
 gold saree,slipped into the room and stood there, waiting 
 with eyes that glinted mischievously at Bagoo's fat back 
 till the old woman should turn round and witness the 
 intrusion.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 "Sometimes the other maidens sat in tears, 
 
 Sometimes, consoled, they jested at their fears 
 Musing what lover's time to them would bring, 
 But I waa silent, thinking of the King." 
 
 BLOOM of the Rose was a new inmate of the Bhol- 
 pur Harem. It was barely two months since 
 she had been sent thither as a substitute for a long out- 
 standing debt that her father owed to the Bholput 
 exchequers, and as yet the free air- of the Cashmere moun- 
 tains tinted her cheeks and caused the blood to pulse 
 swift and warm from her heart. An attractive small 
 person too, with the soft roundness of youth in her 
 limbs and the transparent gold brown colouring of the 
 Cashmere women. Just a faint tinge under the gold of 
 her cheeks showed how red ran the blood in her veins, 
 and her eyes were wonderful, black as night when the 
 long lashes veiled them, almost amber-hued when she 
 faced the light. Her mouth was vivid in colouring, her 
 hands dimpled and soft as a baby's, henna tipped and 
 perfumed. She would prove an imperious queen, Bloom 
 of the Rose. Never in her short life had she known a 
 desire unsatisfied, and before she had been sent here she 
 had been free, free as the wind that blew across the skies, 
 or the wild flowers that danced in the grasses round her 
 mountain home. 
 
 293
 
 294 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 To the sheltered women of the harem she was a con- 
 stant source of bewilderment and admiration, and she in 
 return could in no sort of way understand their passive 
 acceptance of whatever order of things was dealt out to 
 them. Bloom of the Rose, for instance, could not un- 
 derstand why Esther's presence was tolerated in the 
 harem. She disliked her instinctively, to begin with, for 
 her colour and aloofness, and that a white woman should 
 reign as principal wife seemed hateful to her. It was to 
 have been her place in the harem; her father had prom- 
 ised her that to tempt her to obedience of his plan, and 
 she herself never doubted her ability to fill the place. 
 The other women encouraged her. For themselves, they 
 had given up hope, but this newcomer, so young, so 
 exquisite, surely' it would not be impossible for her to 
 push aside the hated white stranger. 
 
 Now the news of Prince Ishaq Khan's return had 
 spread among the harem women the evening before 
 Bagoo carried it to Esther. They heard, too, Abdul's 
 belief as to the white woman's re-installation into favour. 
 Harem life gives little food for thoiight or conversation ; 
 Abdul's news spread with the rapidity and excitement 
 that a cat's visit produces in the neighbourhood of a 
 dove cot. 
 
 The Cashmere girl listened to the shrill arguments, 
 the muttered abuse and powerless threats of the other 
 women against Esther, with scarcely veiled contempt. 
 They were so quick to talk, so slow to act, these Harem 
 born and bred women ; her free mind and hot heart re- 
 belled against their dissatisfied nervelessness. 
 
 " This white devil may bear a son," was the chief 
 cause of hopelessness, it appeared. Bloom of the Rose,
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 295 
 
 catching the words as she passed a group of women on 
 the verandah steps, drew herself up erect and defiant. 
 
 " 'Tis for us to see, then, that the babe is not born in 
 our midst," she said sharply, voicing a truth they had 
 not even dared to think of. The women gaped at her 
 in horror, only an elderly lady of the group taking it 
 upon herself to remonstrate. 
 
 " Young blood runs too fast," she quavered. " You 
 talk foolishness, child ; how can she be got rid of ? " 
 
 " And your blood runs thick like cream, from too 
 much eating and sleeping," Bloom of the Rose retorted. 
 " While you all sat round and bewailed your fate," she 
 went on, " I have thought of a plan. Now I know how 
 it can be done, and there is naught for you to do but keep 
 silence." 
 
 She joined the group, sitting down near the old lady 
 who had first spoken. " Listen," she said, " to-morrow 
 there are to be dancing women here. I heard Abdul tell 
 Bagoo of it ; they are to wait our lord's pleasure, though, 
 as like as not, he will not need them, Abdul says. Well, 
 I am as they are and can speak their tongue, I will find 
 a way to have speech with their leader, then thus shall 
 the plan work." She leant forward impressively. " I 
 will persuade them, for I have many jewels with which 
 to tempt them, to smuggle forth the white woman in 
 their midst when they leave. Then I will take her place, 
 veiled in her clothes. It is not Abdul who will notice any 
 difference between us, and when the message comes, as 
 Bagoo says it will, that our lord awaits her in the Gar- 
 den Palace, I even I, will go in her place." 
 
 /' He will kill you," one of the younger women gasped ; 
 ' have vou no fear ? "
 
 296 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 Bloom of the Rose tossed her head arrogantly and 
 rose to her feet. " 'Tis my risk," she asserted. " I am 
 too beautiful for a man to kill." 
 
 " Of a certainty if our lord should but see you, and be 
 not too greatly angered at the trick," a dark-browed 
 woman who sat on the top step nursing a baby put in, 
 " he would not think of the white slave again. But for 
 years he has not looked at any of us ; it is as if the white 
 folk had laid a spell on him." 
 
 " My spell shall break theirs then," whispered Bloom 
 of the Rose. Her eyes looked out over their heads to 
 beyond the harem walls. " Without courage we gain 
 nothing in this world." 
 
 Courage she certainly did not lack. As she stood next 
 day just within the chic of Esther's door and watched 
 the scene before her, her lips smiled a little contemp- 
 tuously. That a woman should weep as Esther wept, 
 and cling to a fat, useless slave, such as Bagoo was 
 appeared to her foolish and degrading ; she was too 
 young for pity to stir in her heart. When Bagoo turned 
 to face her, dropping all the newly arranged pile of 
 finery on the floor in her agitation, the smile changed 
 to an open titter of amusement. 
 
 " What shameful talk is this, fat one, that I have over- 
 heard ? " she asked. 
 
 If Bagoo had not been taken completely by surprise, 
 she would have realized that there was little use in Bloom 
 of the Rose overhearing a conversation which had been 
 conducted largely in English. As it was, the fat woman 
 fell promptly into the trap. 
 
 " She would have me help her to escape," she explained 
 hastily, anxious to shelve all blame from her shoulders,
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 297 
 
 " and I have been truly angered at the thought." 
 
 " Escape,." murmured Bloom of the Rose. That Esther 
 should be unwilling for the honour of chief wife had nevei 
 entered the other women's heads. It would make things 
 all the easier. The girl stepped a little nearer to Bagoo ; 
 her eyes met the old woman's sternly. 
 
 " And why not? " she asked ; " it were a good deed 
 and one that would give us all satisfaction." 
 
 " Satisfaction," grunted Bagoo, " it would be more 
 like to give me a skinned back. I will have none of it." 
 She stooped to re-gather her things. 
 
 " Let them lie," Bloom of the Rose commanded. " I 
 may have need of them to help dress my sister later, and 
 since thou art too great a coward to help," she caught 
 the old woman by the shoulders and shook her, " get 
 you gone and hold your peace at least. If there is aught 
 said to Abdul, I will confront you before him and tell, 
 how I overheard you and this woman plotting her es- 
 cape. Now go, and when they send you to fetch the 
 white woman, have no fear, she shall be here ; I will keep 
 better guard than you." 
 
 Bagoo might indeed, would have resisted, but for the 
 fact that it was getting late and near her meal time. She 
 went, therefore, with many muttered uncomplimentary 
 remarks as to upstarts from nowhere, who thought them- 
 selves queens, and Esther and the Cashmere girl were 
 alone together. 
 
 Esther had not stirred ; she still knelt, crouching on 
 the floor, as Bagoo had flung her. Her eyes stared at 
 Bloom of the Rose, but they were wide and vacant. It 
 seemed almost as if that last effort to win over Bagoo's 
 help had been too much for the poor tired brain ; it had
 
 298 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 given way under the weight of terror thrust upon it. 
 Her rival returned the stare with interest, also with her 
 hands behind her back, she made a quick sign against 
 the evil eye. This white woman was mad, if her eyes 
 showed the truth, and without doubt the ghost of the 
 other white woman who had died in this room was some- 
 where near. Bloom of the Eose was no coward, but she 
 was undoubtedly superstitious. 
 
 Then ske advanced cautiously upon Esther. There 
 was no need to enter upon any explanations ; the white 
 woman would not have understood them, but she was 
 passively obedient and slipped out of her garments and 
 into the clothes that Bloom of the Rose selected for her. 
 She sat quiet and contented too, only speaking softly 
 to herself unknown English words, while the Cashmere 
 girl braided up the heavy gold hair and stained the white 
 face and hands. That accomplished, Bloom of the Rose 
 stood up and having surveyed her work with satisfac- 
 tion went quickly to the door again and peered out. 
 By the gateway of the harem she could see the group 
 of dancing women. A certain amount of shrill voiced 
 argument was in process, owing to the fact of Abdul 
 having just informed them that their services would not 
 be required that night, as the Prince had put off his 
 arrival till the morrow. They clamoured, it was evident, 
 for at least some payment, and even as Bloom of the 
 Rose looked out Abdul flung himself free of the group 
 and slouched off in the direction of the Palace. His 
 departure provided the opportunity she had been wait- 
 ing for, the (verandahs and square were deserted save for 
 the dancers. Like a flash she, slipped from behind the 
 chic and across the space to them. Evidently her argu-
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 299 
 
 ments and bribes had some effect 1 for, after a quick con- 
 clave with the leader of the band, she turned, and the 
 woman following her, re-crossed the space to Esther's 
 room. 
 
 " I have drugged the woman," she announced stand- 
 ing by her handiwork, and arranging the veil carefully 
 across Esther's head and shoulders, " so that she shall 
 go quietly and give no trouble, and lo, how I recom- 
 pense you for the night's work." 
 
 With reckless hands she stripped the ornaments from 
 her neck and arms and held them out. The woman 
 stolidly accepted the accumulated treasure, tying it into 
 a tight knot at the end of her saree. Her shrewd eyes 
 blinked from the Cashmere girl to Esther's mute figure 
 and back again. There was more in the game than she 
 had been told of, she knew, but after all it mattered 
 very little to her, and the jewels more than blinded her 
 to any risk she might be running. Therefore, she 
 shrugged her shoulders without bothering to answer and, 
 taking one of Esther's limp hands in hers, dragged her 
 to her feet, and across the room to the door. 
 
 Bloom of the Rose stood to watch their progress, but 
 well hidden by the chic. The light outside was begin- 
 ning to fade ; two minutes ago the sun had dropped be- 
 hind the Bholpur forests ; in a quarter of an hour it 
 would be night. The group of women waiting at the 
 gate were once more indulging in a wordy argument with 
 Abdul, whose massive figure towered over them, but it 
 was easy enough for Esther and her guide to join the 
 lest unnoticed, for one of the women was holding the 
 negro's attention by shrieking abuse at him. Bloom of 
 the Rose saw the leader mutter some directions to the
 
 300 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 women on the outskirts and between them they elbowed 
 Esther well into the centre of the crowd, just as Abdul 
 gave up the discussion and turned to open the gate. He 
 grunted out some insulting humour as the women slipped 
 in single file past him, and the leader answered quickly, 
 bringing a shower of coarse jests on her ample shoulders 
 and allowing Esther to be dragged past unnoticed. In- 
 stinctively, the white woman shrunk aside from the sound 
 of the negro's voice, but otherwise she gave no sign at 
 all, and as the door clanged to behind them, and Abdul 
 moved away from it with a huge yawn and stretch, 
 Bloom of the Rose let fall the chic with a little laugh that 
 caught in her breath with a sob of satisfaction. So far, 
 so well ; the first part of her plan had carried, it lay with 
 her to make the second half as successful. 
 
 Not till they were some distance from the Palace, and 
 had left behind them even the last straggling huts of the 
 bazaar, did the dancing women turn aside from the broad 
 high road they had so far been following. Their new 
 way led them along a narrow footpath, between sun- 
 dried rice fields, towards a cluster of mud huts grouped 
 in the shade of a mango grove. The diminutive village 
 was silent and dark, with only the faintest glimmer of 
 light coming from one or two of the huts. The leader 
 of the party stopped at a low door,'from which one of 
 these lights was issuing. So far she had walked with her 
 hand on Esther's wrist, now she nodded a farewell to 
 her companions and pushing Esther in front of her 
 disappeared into the interior. The low thick smelling 
 space was lighted by a lamp swung from the roof. An old 
 woman rose to her feet as they entered, and turned a 
 seamed and twisted face to greet them.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 301 
 
 " Who have you there, daughter ? " she asked, staring 
 at Esther's curiously inert figure. 
 
 " I scarce know, mother," the other answered ; " there 
 has been money paid to me to hide the woman till the 
 child is born, and that is all you or I care for, good 
 
 money " She put eager hands to the untying of her 
 
 treasure. 
 
 The old woman shuffled nearer to Esther, and with a 
 quick turn of her hand pulled the covering from head 
 and face. In the lamp's dingy beams the tight braided 
 hair showed gold, and the neck below where the brown 
 stain ceased, was white, even to the bleared old eyes 
 blinking at it, undeniably white. 
 
 The old woman fell back a pace or two. " Dost see 
 what thou hast done," she gasped, clutching at her 
 daughter's arm, " the woman is white." 
 
 Esther's eyes, wide and unafraid, watched them cur- 
 iously. " It is a funny little place," she was whispering 
 to herself, " but it doesn't really matter where one is 
 when one is dead and every one else is dead, too." Then 
 she smiled rather wistfully at the dirty old hag. " I am 
 tired," she said, holding out her hands ; " tired, I should 
 like to sleep, if dead people are allowed to sleep hers." 
 
 The younger woman had gone instinctively to the door 
 standing by it as if to block out any chance onlooker. 
 
 " Without doubt she is white," she admitted ; " all the 
 more reason she should be well hidden." 
 
 " You have brought her from the Harem of the 
 Prince ? " the old woman queried. She had retreated from 
 Esther's outstretched hands. " Woe is upon us that you 
 should have done this." 
 
 " The deed is done, anyway," the other answered ; she
 
 302 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 jerked her shoulders, "and we must see to it that no 
 worse follows. The woman is here and stays here for 
 the present. Give her thy bed for to-night, mother ; she 
 will sleep and keep quiet." 
 
 The old woman with many mutterings repaired to the 
 furthest and darkest corner of the room, beckoning Esther 
 to follow her. Acharpoi, roughly covered with a rezi, 
 stood there, and pushing Esther on to it she pantomimed 
 for her the act of lying down and sleeping. Esther 
 watched, laughing softly. 
 
 " Yes, I will sleep," she said, nodding her head wisely ; 
 '* the grave gives time for rest when we are in it. I re- 
 member reading that somewhere ; this is the grave, and I 
 shall sleep well in it." 
 
 The old woman, her task accomplished, shuffled back 
 to her daughter, who had left the door and was examin- 
 ing the plunder under the lamp. 
 
 " If the woman is to die," she whispered, nodding her 
 head in the direction of the charpoi, " it must be after 
 the babe is born. I will have no ghost of one laden with 
 new birth to haunt us." 
 
 " Who talks of killing," the younger one answered 
 sharply ; " there may be even more money to make from 
 this after the child is born, but we must go carefully, 
 mother. It were well that no one should know that she is 
 white." 
 
 And while the two women discussed and made their 
 plans for the future, Esther slept, and the kindly veil of 
 forgetfulness went with her into her sleep. She was a 
 child again, with no surprise in the thought, laughing 
 the laughter of childhood at childish things. Ishaq 
 Khan, Gerald, her marriage, the life in the harem, were all
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 303 
 
 forgotten incidents. It was to be many days before their 
 memory stirred to life again, and then*it was to be 
 through the gates of death that her reason should be 
 restored to her.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 " It knows not wrath nor pardon ; utter true 
 
 Its measures mete, its faultless balance weighs j 
 Times are as naught, to-morrow it will judge 
 Or after many days." 
 
 Sir Edwin Arnold. 
 
 YOUNG DONALDSON put in a strenuous week of 
 amusement in the hills and returned to Bholpur 
 to find the first rains just on the verge of breaking. Thun- 
 der clouds lay banked on every horizon, the heat was 
 intense, damply intense as Brown styled it during one 
 of the many pauses he had to make to mop his brow 
 while playing billiards. 
 
 '" Been wiling away the hearts of all the maidens 
 young man," he asked Donaldson in passing. 
 
 "Of course," the youth assented. He leant across, 
 the table and deftly knocked the red ball into the pocket. 
 " That is what is expected of one when one is an 
 interesting invalid on sick leave. How have things 
 been here ? " 
 
 " Smouldering," retorted Brown. " That is the only 
 word that can be used to > describe even peacefulness 
 in the hot weather here. As a matter of fact, we have 
 been peaceful, haven't we ? " He nodded at McDermot. 
 
 " Yes," the Resident agreed, " things have been 
 very quiet. Every one is at peace with every one else, 
 even in the Palace, as far as we can gather." 
 
 " The Prince back ? " Donaldson asked. 
 304
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 305 
 
 McDerinot nodded. " Yes," he said ; " he is back 
 and most friendly and amiable." 
 
 " The reason being," Brown put in, " a new and entirely 
 satisfactory wife. That bit of intelligence McDermot 
 had gathered from Rutna. Where Rutna gets it is 
 another matter ; he is generally reliable, though." 
 
 " News travels in India. Sometimes it almost seems 
 as if the stones and dust had speech," Lyall put in. 
 " Even our Mission is buzzing with reports of this new 
 favourite in the Palace, a Cashmere girl of extraordinary 
 beauty. I don't fancy anything is ever kept a secret 
 from the native servants." 
 
 " They keep some secrets to themselves, though," 
 McDermot retorted drily. " Even Rutna knows far 
 more about every piece of information than he ever 
 passes on to me. Ra Chandra is dead, by the way," 
 he went on, turning to Donaldson. 
 
 " Poor old Ra Chandra. Has any one seen anything 
 of the brother since I have been away ? " 
 
 " He is lying very low for the present," McDermot 
 answered. " I would let him rest if I were you, Donald- 
 son, unless, of course, he looks you up. It is only natural 
 he should feel a bit bitter about the whole show." 
 
 Despite such words of wisdom, uttered by one for 
 whom he had an unbounded respect, Donaldson reserved 
 his own opinion as to what he hoped to do in the way of 
 reclaiming Ra Chandra's brother, and it was with an odd 
 thrill of something like prio\e that he noted, as he stepped 
 out on to the verandah after his solitary meal a week 
 later, a tall, lanky, well-remembered figure rising to greet 
 hyn. The police-orderly in attendance salaamed gravely 
 and, indicating the waiting figure with a somewhat
 
 306 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 suspicious glance, informed his master that the boy 
 desired speech with him. 
 
 Donaldson took in the scene quickly, motioning the 
 man aside, and holding out a frank hand to Narrhotum. 
 
 " It is good of you to come and see me," he said. " I 
 was half hoping you would. Come inside, or shall we 
 stay here and smoke and talk." 
 
 The boy's mournful face lit up, the sullen mouth 
 smiled a little. 
 
 " We will sit here, if you choose," he answered, 
 scrupulously careful in his pronunciation of the foreign 
 words. 
 
 " Good," said Donaldson ; " we will have a lamp 
 brought out and some drinks. Can't offer you anything, 
 can I ? " Narrhotum gave a polite dissent. " Then 
 we will pack off the servants and; have a chat. Won't 
 you have even a cigar, in which to smoke a pipe of 
 peace ? " 
 
 But Narrhotum would have nothing. He sat stiffly 
 erect in his chair while the servants brought out the 
 lamp and tables, his eyes moodily fixed on the floor. 
 Once Donaldson glanced at him ; he felt the atmosphere a 
 little strained and wondered whether he would really be 
 quite wise to send off all the orderlies and be left alone 
 with the boy. The. thought only lasted a second and 
 at Narrhotum's first words, it fled ashamed. 
 
 " You speak of a pipe of peace, huzoor. I am not 
 ignorant of your English proverbs ; there has never been 
 anything but peace 'twixt you and roe." 
 
 " I am glad," said Donaldson. He sat forward in his 
 chair, his clear blue eyes smiling at the boy. " I kr.ew 
 you would be very cut up over your brother's death,
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 307 
 
 and I thought perhaps in some way you would bear 
 us a grudge." 
 
 He laid some stress on the word "us." He wanted 
 Narrhotum to understand that he stood for and with 
 the Government. The native's eyes met his for a 
 moment. 
 
 " No," he said, " I bear no grudge. I have learnt 
 many things during my brother's exile," he went on ; 
 " one is, that his way of fighting for our country was a 
 wrong way ; not so shall we free her. I do not give up the 
 fight he laid down his life for, huzoor, only I take to my- 
 self other weapons." 
 
 " That's right," agreed Donaldson, " you never will 
 get much further with bombings and murders ; it isn't 
 playing, well cricket, shall we say ? " 
 
 Narrhotum nodded gravely. " I too have played the 
 cricket," he said, " in my school days." 
 
 He added nothing to that cryptic sentence, and -for a 
 time the two sat in silence. 
 
 " What do you propose doing now ? " Donaldson asked 
 presently. " If I may advise you, I should get away 
 from here, and if there is anything I can do to help you, 
 you will let me know, won't you ? " 
 
 " I shall not leave here," Narrhotum answered. His 
 eyes looked past the Englishman into the darkness out- 
 side. " There is only one act I live to accomplish, and 
 that I shall do here. After that I have no care, no need 
 of care." He stood up abruptly and Donaldson rose too. 
 
 " You don't mean " he began. Narrhotum inter- 
 
 .rupted, though with perfect courtesy. 
 
 " Not what you are thinking of, huzoor. I have learnt 
 wisdom did I not say. But there is yet one thing I can
 
 308 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 do to help my cause and my brother's memory, and that 
 I will do, but it is nothing against the Government, else 
 should I not be here. There is another word I had for 
 your ear, that in some measure brought me here to- 
 night. Can I speak as to you alone ? " 
 
 Donaldson looked round him. Some distance off 
 crouched the orderly on duty, half asleep ; the other 
 servants had betaken themselves to their quarters. 
 "Why, yes," he said, "especially as we speak in 
 English." 
 
 Narrhotum smiled. It was so essentially sahib-like to 
 think that native eavesdroppers would trouble to listen 
 if they could not understand the language spoken. He 
 contented himself, however, by drawing a little nearer 
 and dropping his voice. 
 
 " What I will tell you now," he said, " is spoken in 
 friendliness and to repay in some small measure your 
 goodness to me. My knowledge is the common gossip 
 of the bazaar, but without doubt, unknown to you white 
 folk, yet it is none the less true and will be of some 
 interest to the Kesident sahib at least. The white 
 woman, who was in the harem of the Prince a short time 
 back, and who is supposed to have died, is not dead ; she 
 escaped or was smuggled out of the harem, and is at 
 present hidden in one of the outlying villages. More I 
 cannot tell you, for I do not know." 
 
 He ended his harangue and drew himself up proudly. 
 Donaldson stared at him blankly. 
 
 " White woman harem," he said. Some misgivings 
 as to his companion's sanity occurred to him. " I haven't 
 the slightest idea what you are driving at." 
 
 " No," the man seemed a little disappointed " it is
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 309 
 
 v 
 
 information for which the Resident sahib will give much 
 I know, therefore I brought it to you." 
 
 " Thanks, awfully ." Donaldson felt that thanks were 
 due. " The matter shall be looked into. By Jove, the 
 Prince's harem and a white woman sounds unbelievable, 
 doesn't it ? " 
 
 Narrhotum took the assertion gravely. " As one of 
 your English poets has it," he said. * There are more 
 things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your 
 philosophy.' Salaam, huzoor, and peace go with you." 
 
 " Salaam, Narrhotum," Donaldson answered, " come 
 and see me again if you stay on in Bholpur. I am 
 nearly always by myself of an evening." 
 
 " What quaint bee has he got in his bonnet this time," 
 he meditated, as he turned indoors after watching the 
 boy's figure stride away. " Shall have to pull old 
 McDennot's leg about it though ; fancy him being inter- 
 ested in the goings on of the harem." 
 
 As Fate ordained, McDermot happened to be away 
 on a ten days' shooting trip, and Donaldson's informa- 
 tion was therefore passed on to Brown instead the nert 
 day. 
 
 " Ever heard anything to the effect of a white woman 
 in the Prince's harem ? " Donaldson asked casually, in 
 the course of their conversation. 
 
 Brown lifted a slightly frowning glance. Having suc- 
 ceeded in silencing McDermot's mad theories, here 
 apparently, was some one else starting them. 
 
 " Yes," he answered somewhat shortly, " there was 
 an unfortunate white woman who died there some time 
 
 "Extraordinary thing."' Donaldson was visibly
 
 310 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 excited. " Old Ra Chandra's brother paid me a visit 
 last night, and he was full of some mysterious yarn about 
 a white woman whom every one thought dead, but 
 who wasn't, as a matter of fact, and who had escaped 
 or been turned out, and was in hiding somewhere in the 
 district. 
 
 " Nonsense," Brown snorted, " this particular woman 
 died, anyway. Miss Lyall was sent in by McDermot to 
 inspect the dead body. The bazaar is always full of 
 awe-inspiring tales if you listen." 
 
 " Yes," agreed Donaldson meekly. " I didn't place 
 much faith in it myself, only it struck me as odd, a white 
 woman, you know." 
 
 " India is all odd," Brown hunched his shoulders, 
 " and some of her oddnesses don't bear inspecting." 
 
 Donaldson, with Brown's verdict of the matter im- 
 pressed on his mind, was content to let it drop there, 
 and passed on his information to McDermot on the 
 Resident's return rather by way of a joke. 
 
 " Ra Chandra's brother had a message for you, sir, 
 when he looked me up the other night. He said he was 
 sure it would interest you." 
 
 " Really," asked -McDermot. The four men were 
 sitting out under the banyan tree near the tennis court. 
 " What sort of message ? " 
 
 Brown, apparently deep in a discussion with Lyall as 
 to the merits and demerits of the American serve, cocked 
 his ear to hear how McDermot would take Donaldson's 
 chaff. 
 
 " Well," the young man was saying, " his message as it 
 was given .ran something like this. The white woman, 
 who was in the harem a short while back, and who ia
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 311 
 
 supposed to have died, is not dead ; she escaped or was 
 smuggled out of the harem, and is at present hiding in 
 one of the outlying villages." 
 
 Silence followed his words, for Lyall, observing that 
 Brown's attention had wandered, broke off in his argu- 
 ment to listen too. They were all somehow looking at 
 McDermot. The Resident sat forward in his chair, his 
 hand half outstretched for a whisky peg he had been 
 about to pick up. He looked like some one who has 
 suddenly received, in the very middle of quite calm 
 commonplace thoughts, a terrible knowledge. 
 
 " My God," he whispered, and his lips were stiff on 
 the sounds. 
 
 Brown leant forward. " What is up, Resident ? " he 
 asked ; " feeling ill ? " 
 
 Lyall and Donaldson stood up ; the young policeman's 
 face had flushed, he was conscious of some uneasiness. 
 
 " Is there anything in what I have said, sir," he 
 asked. " Dr. Brown told me it was all bunkum ; the 
 woman did die, I thought " 
 
 McDermott interrupted. " When did you hear 
 this ? " he asked. 
 
 " Nine days ago," Donaldson answered. 
 
 " And you have done nothing ? " 
 
 " What was there to do," Brown put in. " Do you place 
 any faith ,in the story, McDermot ; you know bazaar 
 tales and how much truth there is in them." 
 
 " This one is true," McDermot answered slowly. There 
 was that in his voice that silenced arguments. " I 
 have known it all the time," he went on ; " that is the 
 ghastly part of it, and prudence, caution, a desire not to 
 mix myself up in what might have proved unpleasant,
 
 312 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 had kept me from dealing with it. That is over though." 
 He stood up abruptly and turned to Donaldson. " We 
 will find her," he said, " if we have to ransack every 
 house in the district. I can count on your help, 
 Donaldson ? " 
 
 " Rather, sir," Donaldson spoke eagerly. " But if 
 you know the woman, who is she, how did it all hap- 
 pen ? " 
 
 Once more Brown intervened. " No need to ask or say 
 who she is as yet, is there ? " His eyes met McDermot's. 
 " Time for all that when she is found, if she is found." 
 
 " Cautious as ever," McDermot nodded. " On this 
 point we will let your wisdom stand. It doesn't matter 
 who she is, does it ; it is enough for us that she is white, 
 and that she is certainly as much in need of our help as 
 any one could be. Let's get to work, Donaldson ; you 
 can organize a search party, find the boy who told you 
 for me first if you can ; he can probably help us. Publish 
 abroad what we are looking for secrecy is of no further 
 use, we must find her, and the open way will be the 
 quickest. I'll have Rutna up and see what he knows." 
 
 His first action, however, on reaching his bungalow, was 
 to write to the Hamiltons. To the man he said, " May 
 I ask you to pay us another visit ; you must be dead sick 
 of me and of Bholpur, but this time the reason is more 
 imperative than I care to put on paper." 
 
 To Mrs. Hamilton he explained a little more. " I 
 have written asking your husband to do me a great favour 
 and spend ten days or so in this unsalubrious spot. It is 
 you I really want ; if this letter seems strange to you 
 will you throw your memory back to the last interview 
 we had in Shillong, and what passed between us there.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 313 
 
 This matter has to do with that ; I think you will under- 
 stand." 
 
 Then he sent for Rutna, having handed his two letters 
 over to an orderly to post. 
 
 " Rutna, the police sahib has told me," he said, " of 
 some rumour that is going about the bazaar, as to a 
 white mem who has escaped from the Prince's harem. 
 What truth is there in it ? " 
 
 Rutna gazed round him. As he had once said to Shahja- 
 han, his sahib was as knowing as the All Powerful. Of 
 what use to lie in such a presence. 
 
 " I have heard it," he assented gravely. 
 
 "Well," asked McDermot. 
 
 " As to where she is," Rutna continued, " that no one 
 knows." 
 
 " She must be found," McDermot ordered him ; " let 
 this be understood throughout the bazaar. My honour 
 stands on it, there shall be no punishment, only great 
 reward for whosoever gives word of her. What do they 
 gain by keeping her in hiding ? " 
 
 Rutna lifted his eyes at such a question. " Huzoor, 
 there is the Prince," he said. 
 
 " What can he do ? " asked McDermot, " in this 
 matter. What would be do ; is he more powerful than 
 the British Raj ? " 
 
 Rutna might have mentioned Narrayan ; it was a little 
 incident that would have shown clearly enough the 
 powerlessness of the British Raj to protect those who 
 had offended against the Prince. Why he did not is a 
 question that can be answered only by some one with a 
 thorough knowledge of the invincible secrecy that guards 
 a native's brain. And, at any rate, further discussion
 
 314 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 was prevented, for at that moment a furious rider could 
 be heard galloping up the front drive of the Residency and 
 pulling up with a clatter of hoofs outside. Donaldson's 
 voice, sharp with excitement, rang through the bungalow. 
 
 " McDermot," he shouted, " are you there, can I see 
 you for a moment." 
 
 The Resident was already on the verandah. " You 
 have -news ? " he asked eagerly. 
 
 " Not of that matter," Donaldson flung the reins on 
 the pony's neck and jumped off, " but there is a row at 
 the Palace ; the Prince has been murdered, they say, 
 but we can't get in or gather any official statement, the 
 bazaar is up. I have wired for the soldiers and dashed 
 round here to fetch you, they may let you pass." 
 
 " Murdered ? " asked Brown, he had joined the other 
 two men on the verandah. " Any notion who has done 
 it, or why ? " 
 
 " Not a word, so far, but you can hear the tumult if 
 you listen." Donaldson held up his hand, and faintly 
 an indescribable hum, like the sounds of a gathering 
 thunderstorm, reached them. 
 
 McDermot had turned into the house. " Fetch the 
 pony round, Rutna," he ordered. " I'll get into uniform 
 and come along with you now, Donaldson, we'll take the 
 police guard, can pick them up on the way. I don't 
 suppose there is much danger. Every one has lost theii 
 head probably, that's the noise you hear." 
 
 " I'll come too," remarked Brown, " may be wanted 
 with my bag. It would be just my luck if I was called 
 on to fetch a fellow like the Prince back from the jaws 
 of a death he no doubt deserves." 
 
 Rutna stood on the steps and watched the three sahibs
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 315 
 
 ride away. Not until then did he voice his thoughts as 
 to the exciting events in progress. 
 
 " It is the vengeance of Ra Chandra," he muttered. 
 His eyes were on the glow of light that shone out from 
 the Palace on to the surrounding blackness. " The hand 
 of Fate," he added philosophically. Then he turned 
 back into the house to get the bath water ready, and lay 
 out his master's clothes preparatory to his return, for 
 kingdoms might rise and fall, but his sahib's comfort 
 must be seen to ; that was Rutna'a creed.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 " By this the slayer's knife did stab himself 
 
 The unjust judge hath lost his own defender ; 
 The false tongue dooms its lie ; the creeping thief 
 And spoiler rob, to render." Edvnn Arnold. 
 
 IN the front room of the Garden Palace, Narrhotum 
 crouched beside the body of the man he had killed. 
 To escape had never even entered his head ; he was 
 indifferent, now that the burning sense of injustice in his 
 heart was satisfied, as to what possible fate might lie in 
 store for himself. More than personal revenge had lain 
 behind the knife stab, for Ishaq Khan, on that day when 
 he had so scornfully sided with power and authority, had 
 wronged something far greater than pride or brotherly 
 affection, he had hit at the Cause ; he had openly turned 
 from it, preferring that all else should go to the wall 
 provided his own reputation was saved. And the Cause 
 had been life, soul and religion to Ra Chandra. His brother 
 knew that, knew also of the broken heart that had lain 
 behind Ra Chandra's last illness. So the blow had had 
 much to wing it. Narrhotum would give his life 
 English justice would certainly demand that of him 
 for the honour of his dead brother and the Cause. 
 
 He and the body were alone in the wide dark room 
 save for a third figure that squatted by the head of the 
 
 31b
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 317 
 
 corpse gabbling strange uncouth sounds in the stillness. 
 The Prince had taken sight and speech from Narrayan, 
 he had left him hearing and touch, and Narrayan's twisted 
 lips, his inarticulate heart was shouting a song of joy, 
 because his ears had heard the hoarse cry, the harsh 
 sobbing breath of Ishaq Khan as he died. His hands too 
 could feel the warm red blood that had oozed and 
 trickled from the form beside him, and for the time being 
 he had gone mad with the glory of revenge satisfied. 
 
 Narrhotum paid no attention to his uncanny com- 
 panion ; his eyes were in a fixed stare on the tank out- 
 side. The late rains for the first thunderstorm had 
 burst two days ago had refilled it ; green things were 
 budding to life on its surface, showing as mysterious 
 shadows under the moonlight. It was a vividly moonlit 
 v night ; the steps and pillars of the house, the bordering 
 of the tank, shone white like polished ivory. From 
 beyond the trees, very faintly he could hear the noises 
 of the Palace and bazaar, his lips were scornful as he 
 listened ; they had left him alone with their dead to fight 
 one and all over his possessions. Even the beautiful 
 Cashmere girl who had been with Ishaq Khan in the 
 room had fled shrieking at the first stab, and had not yet 
 returned. Such is the love of woman, communed the 
 boy to himself. 
 
 He and Narrayan had come by paths the latter knew 
 well to the Garden Palace, and they had crept up the 
 steps and were practically in the room before Ishaq Khan 
 had seen them. He had been lying back on the couch 
 that had been Esther's, watching the Cashmere girl's 
 figure as she swayed and postured before him in a dance. 
 All 'the lamps had been put out, the girl danced like
 
 318 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 some fantastic flower in the bright shaft of moonlight 
 that lay across the room, and as Narrhotum entered he 
 darkened for a moment with his shadow the effect. 
 That was when Ishaq Khan saw them, he had risen with 
 an oath and the girl, her draperies gathered round her 
 had crouched back screaming at the figure that followed 
 behind Narrhotum ! 
 
 That was all ; Ishaq Khan had time for no more. 'He 
 made Narrhotum remembered with regret no effort to 
 save himself ; the attack was so thoroughly unexpected ; 
 he was probably a little heavy with drink ; he had just 
 taken that one step forward and Narrhotum had leapt 
 on him, lifting the knife high, plunging it in far, wrench- 
 ing it out and in again. Then the figure before him had 
 swayed and fallen, and Narrayan was upon it, mouthing 
 his delight, dabbling his hands in the life blood of the 
 man he had so good a cause to hate. 
 
 The girl had scarce waited for that ; she had gone 
 running wildly into the trees towards the Palace and 
 shrieking again and again. Well, they would come back 
 again presently, all of them, when they had decided who 
 was to be the next ruler, and they would find him, 
 Narrhotum, waiting there beside the thing he had done, 
 and they would send for the Police sahib for him as they 
 had for his brother, and this time English justice would 
 hang him, of a certainty it would, even though he had 
 rid the British Raj of one of its worst enemies. He did 
 not care very much ; he was not afraid of death, and he 
 died for the Cause. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Palace itself was a scene of indescribable 
 confusion. The Prince had been murdered, by whom ? 
 by what ? According to Bloom of the Rose's shrieking
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 319 
 
 tale, by demons who had flown in out of the wood fear- 
 ful demons with no eyes, but foaming terrible mouths and 
 groping hands. That account in itself was sufficient to 
 deter investigation by the domestics, and Muzfat was 
 too busy gathering the reins of authority into his own 
 hands. This was the time his cunning brain thought for 
 the revolt. The bazaar people would be more than ready 
 to rise and wipe out the English, provided he could 
 get the proper tale circulated as to the Prince's death, 
 then, should the rising miscarry, who would be to blame ? 
 The people would have heard a mistaken rumour, and 
 have been carried away by their grief for a much loved 
 master. And if it succeeded, therein lay Muzf at's chance ; 
 there was no direct heir to the kingdom, he himself would 
 lay claim to it. Who was there who would be able to take 
 the power from him once the British Raj had been wiped 
 out. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Palace Gates remained closed, and 
 McDermot, Brown and Donaldson on their arrival were 
 met by an agitated and turbulent mob of bazaar ruffians 
 ready at all costs to oppose admission. It seemed useless 
 to pit the small force they had, consisting of twenty 
 men and one constable, against the seething mass of 
 agitators, and Brown, anyway, was for a diplomatic re- 
 treat, and a return on the arrival of soldiers from the next 
 station. Donaldson, on the other hand, was rather in 
 favour of violent measures, such as ordering the police 
 to fire, and risking the consequence. McDermot chose 
 a middle course. The party halted some short distance 
 from the gates, and the Resident, looking truly imposing 
 in Ijds official uniform, went forward alone to address the 
 enemy. If they saw any sign of armed violence from
 
 320 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 the other side, the police were to close round him to open 
 fire at once, but not in any case till he should give the 
 order. 
 
 The wild imprecations and yells rather died down as 
 that solitary figure advanced. For one thing, a revolution- 
 ary crowd is always apt to imagine that there is some good, 
 to them unknown, reason behind courage which takes 
 up such a position, and for another there were a good 
 few among the throng who were more than a little un- 
 decided which party to join. McDermot advanced 
 to well within speaking distance, and though his presence 
 was not exactly acclaimed with favour no hand was raised 
 in the crowd. 
 
 " There is trouble in the Palace," he said, his words 
 ringing clear and calm across the silence that had fallen. 
 " We must be allowed to pass. You are laying up much 
 punishment for yourself ; such doings are not lightly dealt 
 with by the Government. I order you to disperse and 
 get to your homes, or if you are clamouring for justice on 
 the murderer of your Prince, stay here quietly and you 
 shall see justice carried out." 
 
 A little whispered stir answered his words. Shahja- 
 han's brother-in-law, well on the outskirts of the crowd, 
 raised his voice in favour of ' obedience. " Without 
 doubt the Regiment is on its way here," he added to 
 those near him, " of what use to fight." 
 
 The throng obviously lacked a leader, though one 
 spokesman took upon himself to answer. 
 
 " It is an Englishman that has murdered our Prince," 
 he shouted. " Only the blood of the white will repay 
 that.". 
 
 His words roused a storm of threats. The crowd
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 321 
 
 swayed towards McDermot. Donaldson and his men 
 drew near ready for the word of command. 
 
 " If it is a white man who has done the deed," Mc- 
 Dermot's voice sounded sharp with anger now ; those 
 on the outskirts of the crowd were not slow to realize 
 that, " he shall pay for it in the same way, but it must 
 be by the road of justice, not murder. Have done with 
 this foolishness, let me pass, before worse befall you." 
 
 Prompted by the peaceful faction in its midst the 
 crowd hesitated and wavered. One voice suddenly 
 called out in favour of justice the justice of the sahibs, 
 and on a sudden the majority took up the cry ; the few 
 who raised dissenting shouts could hardly be heard 
 above the tumult of acclamation. 
 
 " The sahib log and the police have been admitted," 
 was the message brought to Muzfat, *' what shall be 
 done now ? " 
 
 " Lead them to the Garden Palace," was Muzfat's 
 order. " I myself will follow in due course." 
 
 He waited behind to gather together the final shreds 
 of his enterprise and play the last card. Only Brown 
 noted his absence with some uneasiness, but since it was 
 not his show, and he was in no sense the leader, he re- 
 frained from mentioning it. Their advance on he 
 Garden Palace under the bright hard moonlight was 
 conducted silently; the hub -bub of the Palace had 
 hushed itself on their entrance ; now, though only two 
 men could be found brave enough to lead the way, the 
 rest of the servants and retainers followed in a scared 
 group at the back. Their voices had fallen to whispers, 
 only the steady wailing of the women from the harem 
 rose and fell on the air. 
 
 L
 
 322 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 Donaldson spread his men out a little as the delicate 
 stone carved house caine in sight, but there was no need 
 for this precaution. Narrhotum was waiting for them, 
 indifferent and slightly scornful, by the Prince's body. 
 
 He rose to his feet on the entrance of law and authority 
 and salaamed gravely, the wet red blade still in his 
 hand. 
 
 " I surrender," he said, speaking in his own tongue 
 that all might understand, " to the justice of the 
 English. I have wreaked my justice on the man who 
 lies here." Then his eyes met Donaldson's as the young 
 policeman stepped forward to handcuff him, and he 
 smiled because of the reluctance in his friend's eyes. " It 
 is of no matter, huzoor," he said, " I am content it 
 should be so." 
 
 Brown had crossed over to the Prince's body and was 
 kneeling on the floor by it, while two of the police at a 
 word from McDermot lit the lamps. The doctor's 
 hands, quick and deft at theii work, passed over the 
 body, touched for a moment on the clammy face, closing 
 the eyes, then he stood up. 
 
 " Quite dead," he said, " must have been instantane- 
 ous with the first knife-thrust." His eyes suddenly 
 became aware of Narrayan's figure illumined by the newly 
 lit lamps. " Good God ! " he exclaimed, " what in the 
 name of heaven is that ! " 
 
 There was some cause for the agitation in his voice, 
 for Narrayan fronted them, his hideous eyeless sockets, 
 his maimed mouth and groping hands smeared and 
 flecked with blood, the front of his loincloth where he 
 had pressed against the Prince was soaked in it too, it 
 dripped and trickled to the floor as he stood. The
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 323 
 
 room, though the three Englishmen hardly noticed that, 
 was fast clearing of the Palace folk, only the small band 
 of police remained and they apparently preferred the 
 verandah to the room in which Narrayan stood. Narr- 
 hotum answered Brown's question for him. 
 
 " That is Narrayan," he explained, " he had nothing 
 to do with the murder, I alone did it, but when the 
 Prince fell he could contain his joy no longer but leapt 
 on the body, hence the bloodstains." 
 
 " But why, what " asked McDermot ; Donaldson 
 
 httd gone a little white. 
 
 " He had cause to hate the Prince," Narrhotum put 
 in courteously, " more cause some will say than I had ; 
 his face as you see it now is what the justice of the Prince 
 made of it." 
 
 " Do you mean " asked McDermot, but Brown 
 
 interrupted, he had gone a little nearer to Narrayan, his 
 practised eyes studying the scarred face. 
 
 " It's true," he whispered ; " my God, McDermot, I 
 didn't think such things could be true, the man has had 
 his eyes burned out and his tongue torn from his mouth. 
 It's horrible, the agony he must have suffered. Let him 
 go free, you can't think of detaining him on a charge of 
 murder in the face of this." 
 
 " There is no talk of murder," Narrhotum's voice 
 intervened, " I alone slew the Prince, Narrayan had 
 no share in that." 
 
 " Huzoor," one of the policemen stepped forward, 
 " the man speaks true as to Narrayan, we of the bazaar 
 knew of it. That," he indicated the cowering figure, 
 " is/the justice of the Prince." 
 
 A chorus of acclamation broke from the group on the
 
 324 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 verandah, one or two of the men spat vindictively at the 
 Prince's name. 
 
 McDermot turned to Donaldson. " When will we 
 begin to know natives," he said in English ; then in the 
 vernacular, " Tell him to go free, we will look into his 
 case later, but for the present send some one with him 
 to convey him in safety beyond the Palace walls. If he 
 fears further dealings from the Palace, take him to the 
 Kesidency, he will be safe there. Now, Brown," he 
 turned to the doctor, " if you are satisfied with your 
 examination we had better get the body carried over 
 to the Palace and try and find out what Muzfat is up 
 to." 
 
 Narrayan and the policeman deputed to escort him had 
 hardly been gone five minutes, however, before the latter 
 returned, running hard across the moonlit space. 
 
 " Huzoor, we are surrounded," was his information, 
 " they march on us from the Palace, many hundreds 
 strong, and armed. They called on me to surrender, 
 saying they wanted not to shed our blood but only the 
 blood of the whites, but it is not thus I serve the salt 
 I have eaten. So I broke and ran, but Narrayan hath 
 gone on." 
 
 The other men crowded round him, but not one dis- 
 senting voice went up against his action, and they were 
 prepared to stand evideritly on the orders of their sahibs. 
 
 " I feared it," said Narrhotum from his corner : the 
 passing events interested him but slightly, only he would 
 rather h^ve died at the hands of the English than at the 
 pleasure | of Muzfat. 
 
 McDermott's quick eyes had taken in their chances 
 of defence even while he listened.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 325 
 
 " We have arms and a few rounds of ammunition," 
 he said, " and can hold the place for a couple of hours, 
 anyway ; station your men at the doors and windows, 
 Donaldson, make what barricades you can, there is 
 damned little furniture. The soldiers ought to be here 
 under a couple of hours, and Rutna will hurry them up 
 when they do arrive." 
 
 " You trust Rutna, and these," asked Brown, his 
 eyes indicated the policemen who were already busy 
 dragging the one large table across the centre entrance. 
 
 Donaldson, though the question was not addressed 
 to him, flushed hotly. " I would trust them with more 
 than my life, sir," he said, turning to McDennot. 
 
 The Resident nodded gravely, " And I too, Donaldson ; 
 pay no attention to Brown, he doesn't trust because he 
 has always lacked love for this country or anything 
 that belongs to it. In this case," he very nearly grinned 
 at Brown, the humour of it having just dawned on him, 
 " there is no one else we can trust. Now then, ready, 
 men, I gather that the first detachment of the horde is 
 advancing; don't shoot unless you must." 
 
 Despite the careful shooting of the defenders there 
 were rather more lives lost during the memorable^ riot 
 around the Garden Palace than had ever been recorded 
 before in the annals of Bholpur. It is to be believed 
 that among the hordes of bazaar folk urged forward 
 into the fight by Muzfat, not a few chose this oppor- 
 tunity to settle old scores against their personal enemies. 
 A great many deaths, so Brown decided afterwards, 
 could not be accounted for by the muskets of the police, 
 anQ. the relieving soldiers fired scarcely a shot. These 
 last named in fact found on their arrival but little work
 
 326 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 to do, a great many bodies to pick up, and a rabble 
 of terrified though still noisy bazaar folk to herd back 
 to their homes. "'Few arrests were made, McDennot 
 fancied the bazaar had learnt its lessons without any 
 further teaching, the one person whose blood he really 
 thirsted for, since he was without doubt responsible for 
 all the trouble, was Muzfat, and Muzfat had unaccount- 
 ably disappeared. Remained then merely the for- 
 mality of taking in charge one or two of th.e most 
 important Palace officials, having the Prince's body con- 
 veyed to the Palace* and seeing that law and order was 
 restored with a firm hand among the Palace precincts. 
 
 The soldiers, under the charge of Hodgson, a grave 
 overgrown subaltern, who habitually went by the name 
 of the Baby Elephant in his regiment, remained on 
 duty at the Palace ; Donaldson, his handful of police 
 the heroes of the hour, Narrhotum and the rest of the 
 prisoners departed jailwards, Brown and McDerrnot 
 were left to make their way at their leisure to the 
 Residency. 
 
 " Government may be annoyed with me over this 
 wholesale slaughter," commented McDermot over 
 breakfast in the early hours of the morning, " but I 
 don't see what else we could have done." 
 
 " No fear of that," Brown answered, " you know that 
 at the present you are Sir John's pet lamb and I should 
 imagine Government would be grateful to you for finally 
 pricking the troublesome bubble of the Bholpur state. 
 There is no one to follow after Ishaq Khan, is there ? " 
 
 " He has left no direct heir," acknowledged the 
 Resident, " there will be hundreds of claimants." 
 
 " That will settle it," Brown helped himself largely
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 327 
 
 to marmalade, " Government will annex Bholpur, 
 feudatory states are an everlasting plague to the Govern- 
 ment." 
 
 Day dawned to find peace reigning in Palace and 
 bazaar, a peace which emanated from the quiet dead 
 who lay in rows along the Garden Palace verandahs, 
 which sheltered too the principal figure, stretched out 
 stiff and silent in the state-room of the Palace. For 
 Ishaq Khan lay in state, so much had been accorded 
 to him by the guardians of the peace, his retainers had 
 spread royal robes over and above him, the mournful 
 priests had bathed and perfumed his body. So he 
 slept, a king robed in all his glories, looking more kingly 
 now than he had ever looked in life, much that was hate- 
 ful smoothed from his face by death, the scornful, 
 quiet eyelids shut over the rebellious eyes. And because 
 the man's sin-twisted, hate-warped soul had left it, the 
 body showed a beautiful, fine mask in death.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 Mine is the Fountain and Mine the Force 
 That spurs all Nature to endless strife ; 
 
 And My image is Death at the gates of Life. 
 
 Sir Alfred Lyall. 
 
 night upon which Ishaq Khan was murdered 
 JL Esther's child was born ushered into the 
 world, a small white body, with all the pomp and cere- 
 mony that attends the mystery of birth amongst even 
 the lowest castes of India. It is "the woman's hour, 
 and in a land where women are so much in subjection 
 she makes the best of this her one victory over the 
 mastery of man. So to attend the birth of this small 
 white, stranger in their midst all the old village wives 
 had gathered together, the woman in whose house she 
 was taking an important part of nurse and doctor in 
 one. Most of the village knew by this time the secret 
 of Esther's presence in the hut, even that she was white 
 had leaked out, and to-night as they sat huddled round 
 the charpoy on which the object of their attentions lay, 
 the women were discussing the reward which, so gossip 
 had it, the Resident of Bholpur was offering to whom- 
 soever should give information with regard to the white 
 woman. 
 
 Thou wilt claim it, Maham, is it not so, once the 
 child is born ? " one of them ventured. 
 
 " That I know not," the wizened owner of the hut 
 323
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 320 
 
 "V 
 
 retorted, "it rests with my daughter. For myself I 
 would have naught to do with such things, rewards 
 may bring punishments in their wake." 
 
 " Aye, that is true," agreed another in the group. 
 
 Maham rose to wipe Esther's face with a wet rag. 
 The birth was long in coming, the woman suffered over 
 much, her practised eye could note that. "If it were 
 me," she added in continuation of the subject, " after 
 the babe is born I would take the woman and lead her 
 some distance in the direction of the Residency, there 
 leave her. They will thus find her, the search will 
 cease and no blame attach to any of us." 
 
 " A good plan," agreed the first speaker ; " will thy 
 daughter agree ? " 
 
 The older woman shrugged her shoulders. " Who 
 knows ? " she said, " to-night she has gone to the Palace 
 to find out if aught is to be gained from the Prince. She 
 has ever a keen eye for money, my daughter." 
 
 Esther meanwhile, in the dimness of her fancied world, 
 imagining herself still dead, knew that she had come 
 now to hell and all its tortures. She suffered horribly, 
 great waves of pain sweeping over her, hah* lulling feel- 
 ing at their height, retreating and leaving exquisite 
 knowledge of their agony as they went. But as on 
 those occasions when Ishaq Khan had tried to rouse 
 some cry for mercy from her, so now she faced this 
 agony silently, it drove her back as it were on herself, 
 and whatever other qualities had been lacking in her 
 make-up, physical courage had not been among them. 
 
 The women were not over astonished at her fortitude, 
 physical pain is very stoically borne in the East, especi- 
 ally by the women, but even they were moved to pity
 
 330 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 as the long night continued and still no sign of relief 
 came to the sufferer. They did their best for her in 
 their rough practical way, forcing her once or twice to 
 her feet, making her walk up and down the short length 
 of the hut, but in the end all the skill and precepts they 
 knew of failed before such stubborn agony and they 
 were forced to leave her to fight the battle out alone. 
 And Esther fought, going down to the gates of Death 
 and turning again as the very far-off faint cry of new- 
 born life reached to her heart through a mist of deadness 
 that at the last struggle had mercifully closed round her. 
 And with that cry in her ears, while slowly, slowly 
 through centuries of pain her spirit struggled back to life, 
 the mists lifted also from her brain and she knew herself 
 again, remembering step by step the path she had 
 taken since that evening when she had knelt by Gerald's 
 side on the balcony of the hotel in London. 
 I , " I think if I could have a son to grow into a man 
 like you," she had said, " I should be proud." 
 
 That incident stood out clear in the shadowed mind, 
 the rest her meeting with Ishaq Klian, her flight through 
 the night, the Garden Palace, her life in the harem, her 
 period of forgetfulness all passed before her like a dream. 
 She had no memory of the time that had intervened 
 since Abdul had given her his message of the Prince's 
 return, she supposed herself to be still in the harem and 
 her child had been born that she knew because of the 
 cry which had caught her soul at the gates of Death 
 and forced it to turn back. Her child and Gerald's, 
 but at the time she had not known, her heart pleaded 
 with itself for so much justification ; and afterwards, 
 when knowledge had come to her it had been too late,
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 331 
 
 surely that would be urged in her favour, too late, the 
 path had been closed behind her, Gerald had let it be 
 understood by their world at any rate that she was dead. 
 
 And dead she should remain, she was content with 
 the justice of that, only this small soul whose wail 
 sounded in her ears, it was alive, it must be given its 
 chance, she must do something to save it from death. 
 With a great effort she pushed the waves of thought and 
 sleep from her and opened her eyes, putting out her 
 hands instinctively to feel for the babe that should lie 
 near her. 
 
 " That is well," grunted Mother Maham ; with one 
 hand she brushed the damp sweat from her brow, she 
 had fought the battle with death almost as strenuously 
 as Esther, " she li ves, sisters, praise to Shiva ; now for 
 the water, throw it gently, she is still weak." 
 
 To be deluged with cold water immediately one has 
 passed through a crisis such as Esther's would seem 
 sufficient under ordinary circumstances to kill a Euro- 
 pean. The women of the East are of stronger build, it 
 would seem ; it is their method of assisting the process 
 of Nature on these occasions. If the woman is strong 
 enough they force her to a standing position and butt 
 her with their heads, if she is too weak for such treat- 
 ment they sit her up and deluge her with cold water. 
 It does not in most cases kill her, it did not kill Esther ; 
 in fact after the first gasp it rather strengthened her, 
 she could at any rate think more clearly. After she 
 had been dried and dressed once more, they laid her 
 , back on the bed and left her ; she could see them very 
 busy over something in the opposite corner of the hut. 
 Was it the baby, she wondered, why didn't they bring
 
 332 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 it to her, how had they hushed its cries, for it was very 
 silent and the women gathered round it spoke to each 
 other in hushed whispers. Perhaps it slept, and though 
 her heart and arms ached physically to hold it, she 
 controlled herself. She had learnt during her life in the 
 harem that a want expressed was tantamount to having 
 it denied, with punishment to follow for the expression ; 
 she was not afraid for hepelf, but a new dread had 
 sprung to life in her heart, she feared inexpressibly for 
 her child. So she lay and watched, and once when 
 Mother Maham drew nigh to look at her, she closed her 
 eyes and feigned sleep, she had no wish for any further 
 ministrations. 
 
 When she opened her eyes again cautiously, it was 
 to find that the women had dispersed from the corner 
 and were gathered round the door welcoming some new- 
 comer, a tall, bronze-faced woman with wide shoulders 
 and hips. She was dressed in the full-plaited skirts 
 of the dancing-girls, and the saree usually worn over 
 the head had been thrown back showing the thickly 
 oiled hair plaited with gold thread. She was handsome 
 in a bold, impudent way, Esther wondered whom she 
 could be, she had no recollection of ever having seen 
 her before. One fact more than anything else drew her 
 attention, the woman had stood for a moment or two in 
 the open door dramatically, as one with important 
 information to impart, and through the opening Esther 
 had caught a glimpse of purple sky with and herein 
 lay the astonishment the dark shadows of trees thrown 
 against it. There were no trees to be seen from within 
 the high- walled harem what lay outside, w,here was 
 she?
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 333 
 
 The woman moved abruptly into the centre of the 
 hut, she scarce glanced at Esther, her eyes swept to the 
 further corner of the room and rested on what the women 
 had left there, a pathetically small stifi figure, covered 
 with a cloth. 
 
 " Well ? " she asked, speaking sharply. 
 1 Tis not well," her mother grunted in answer ; she 
 spoke slowly, Ibut the language was unknown to Esther. 
 " The v%nan lives, true enough, but the babe is 
 dead." 
 
 All the women made the sign, averting the evil eye. 
 
 M It cried once, ere it passed away," one of them put 
 in quickly, " that averts some of the evil, sister." 
 
 " Evil," the last comer shrugged her stout shoulders, 
 " it is not that sort of evil we need fear." She walked 
 over to the bundle on the floor and stooping jerked the 
 cloth from it. " 'Tis white, too, as I thought," she 
 muttered, straightening herself with a jerk. Then she 
 stepped across to Esther and peered into the white 
 face, the tight-closed eyes. " Good," she whispered, 
 she came back to the other women. " Listen," she said, 
 speaking low and quickly, " I have been to the Palace, 
 great things are doing there. The Prince has been 
 murdered," with an imperative gesture she silenced the 
 cries of astonishment ; " as yet it is not known to the 
 Government. The white men are there, caught in the 
 Garden Palace, whither they went to find out the death, 
 and the bazaar folk have gone out against them to 
 slay them. The morning will show." She turned to 
 the door and swung it open, faint lines of light were 
 
 beginnirrr to show in the skv. " The bazaar folk are 
 / 
 mad," she went on, " they think that by slaying three
 
 334 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 white men they will overthrow the British Raj. Are 
 there not millions of white folk to take the place of these ? 
 Even now the regiment marches from Dinapore, in two 
 hours it will be at the Palace gates." She turned from 
 the door again, but left it open. " We will not act till 
 morning," she said, " the woman is safe till then ; if 
 the white men win, who knows, there may be money to 
 be got by us for having thus saved her. Meanwhile I 
 would rest, mother." 
 
 It was a sign of dismissal, the rest of the women 
 obeyed meekly, not sorry on the whole to be off to 
 their own homes and hear more of these marvellous 
 tidings. 
 
 Maham closed the door carefully behind them ; through 
 her half -shut eyes Esther watched the easy latch dropped' 
 into position, then the old woman shuffled across the 
 floor and picking up the cloth her daughter had jerked 
 aside, spread it across the small body again. 
 
 " Poor little white babe," she muttered, " he had 
 the makings of a fine man." 
 
 The younger woman had thrown aside her outer 
 coverings and lain down on the second charpoy the 
 room contained. Her mother glanced at her as she 
 moved about the hut preparatory to putting the light 
 out and seeking a little well-earned repose on her own 
 account. " 'Tis always money with you," she mur- 
 mured half to herself; " one day it will bring trouble, 
 there is a curse on such gold." 
 
 " Lie down and cease chattering, old fool," her 
 daughter called to her sharply. " I at least wish to 
 sleep before dawn. Much of the gold goes to feed thy 
 belly," she added as an afterthought.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 335 
 
 " I take not much feeding," the other retorted, " nor 
 do I see much of thy gold. But get thee to thy sleep, 
 I am too old to quarrel with." 
 
 She paused a minute by Evsther's apparently uncon- 
 scious form, touching the face gently to feel it still warm, 
 and placing a bowl of water within reach, then having 
 extinguished the light she found her own corner of the 
 room and curled herself up on the floor. 
 
 Darkness and silence held the hut, darkness so intense 
 that Esther's eyes, wide open now, could see nothing 
 wherever she stared, and silence so heavy that it seemed 
 to her as if her own heart beat out its summons to life 
 like a loud drum, and she was afraid its noise would 
 keep awake the other two women whom she was so 
 anxious should sleep. For she had made up her mind 
 now there would be no shirking of the path through 
 fear, not now that she had this other life to act for. 
 Once they both slept she would slip from her bed over 
 to that form they had laid on the floor and then, with the 
 baby close held against her heart, she would creep to the 
 door and so out, out into the world that she had seen 
 faintly outlined through the open door. She had no 
 knowledge where she was, but it was not the harem, that 
 much she knew, and outside lay freedom. Mother love 
 should give her the courage she had lacked through all 
 these months, she would win through and make her 
 way to the Resident's house ; somehow she never 
 doubted that. 
 
 Maham turned restless, and Esther held her breath ; 
 the younger woman at any rate was snoring by now. 
 Would this other never sleep ? For endless minutes 
 BO it seemed to Esther she lay and listened till at last it
 
 336 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 appeared to hei that both the women slept, then gather- 
 ing all her strength together, she slid from the bed and 
 stood upright. It was strange how strong she felt, 
 purpose was driving her forward, brain had for the 
 time completely swamped body. She moved unerringly 
 through the dark, and kneeling down pushed away the 
 covering from the small body, gathering the baby, 
 with arms that trembled a little, but not through 
 weakness, close to her. Its contact, cold, inert and 
 strangely heavy, struck chill to her heart, but she held 
 it very closely, putting aside her own covering so that the 
 warmth of her body might warm it, and it seemed to 
 her that the chill left it, it grew softer, almost moved a 
 little in her arms. Without waiting for more, the 
 little baby close covered and held against her heart, she 
 made for the door, its fastenings proving easy work under 
 her eager hands, and so out into the world. 
 
 She paused to swing the door to behind her, for dawn 
 was noticeable in the outside world, she feared it might 
 wake the two women ; then not knowing where she went, 
 only wildly grateful that no walls lay round her, she 
 turned and hurried quickly from the spot. 
 
 Before she knew it almost, she was free from the little 
 village and beyond the shelter of the grove of trees, wide 
 level ricefields just sprouting green after the first rains 
 lay all round her, some little distance off she could see the 
 jungles of Bholpur. Then the white walls of the Palace, 
 just touched on by the first streak of light, dawned on her 
 eyes, with huddled close against them the native town 
 and away a little to the left another square white building 
 standing on its own in a wide patch of garden. That 
 must be the Residency, she thought what had Ishaq
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 337 
 
 Khan said, not near but near enough to be unsafe. She 
 would go there, cutting straight across the fields to it, it 
 was not far, nor would it take her long. 
 
 She started the journey almost running, but stumbled 
 painfully once or twice, and conscious of the fact that 
 she mtgt husband her strength if she were to reach her 
 goal, slowed down to a walk. Great masses of clouds, 
 heralded by bursts of thunder, were spreading over the 
 skies, oUiterating the first faint efforts of the sun. Aa 
 Esther stombled her way over the fields, the concealing 
 saree dragged across her head and shoulders, the first 
 drops of raVi started to splash round her, soaking through 
 her draperita. Frightened for her burden, for even now 
 her benumb^ senses refused to realize that the babe was 
 dead, and tet^fied lest in seeking shelter she might risk 
 detection, shektaggered on till she came at last to a dis- 
 used cattle sh\d standing in the corner of one of the 
 fields. Here aileast was shelter of a sort and she had 
 the place to herWf . so well nigh exhausted she stumbled 
 in and lay dow\^ pillowing the baby's head on her 
 arm. 
 
 Outside the stoVn raved and shrieked and splashed, 
 turning the fields ipp swamps and the paths into running 
 streams. 
 
 " The monsoon has Voken with a vengeance on pur- 
 pose to welcome you,\McDermot explained to Mrs. 
 Hamilton as he greeteo^er and her husband on the 
 station platform. Then CK turned to Hamilton. "You 
 Jiave arrived in the nick or\i m e," he said, " though this 
 necessity was not in my mV[ when I wrote you. We
 
 338 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 have just been through a stormy episode, and inciden- 
 tally Prince Ishaq Khan has been murdered." 
 
 " Prince Ishaq Khan dead ? " Marjorie interrupted, 
 she stood between the two men, her hand on hei hus- 
 band's arm, her eyes on McDermot, " then :> 
 
 " Then," answered McDermot, his eyes mft hers 
 gravely, " it is left to us to find Mrs. Gerald Hamibon and 
 make her what reparation we can. That is why I sent 
 for you."
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 " As for us, we are led, with none to deliver ns, by the deeds 
 we have done, into the Halls of Death." From an old Jain Poet. 
 
 MRS. HAMILTON turned from the window where 
 fihe had been standing watching the steady 
 downpour of the rain and moved aimlessly about the 
 room. She. was oppressed with a sense of tragedy in the 
 air and the monsoon downpour outside did not assist 
 towards cheerfulness. The men had been out all day, 
 firstly on business at the Palace, for there, though mat- 
 ters had more or less quieted down, there was much to be 
 arranged and settled, but incidentally she knew that the 
 search for Esther had in no way slackened, any moment 
 might bring news of her, and Mrs. Hamilton had spent 
 the day in waiting and thinking. They had talked it all 
 out with McDermot and Brown, Jack had explained his 
 action and Brown at ay rate had agreed in the wisdom of 
 the course that had bjen taken. McDermot blamed, it 
 would seem, himself ftore than any one else, but after 
 their first meeting he riever looked directly at Mrs. 
 Hamilton and she had a feeling that she had lost a friend- 
 ship she had not valued 'ightly. Dr. Crow had been 
 wired for and was expected to arrive next day, Mrs. 
 Hamilton would have liked u send for Gerald, but this 
 even McDermot was unwilling to do. He realized 
 quite well what the disclosure ^ould mean between the 
 
 839
 
 340 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 brothers, and as Brown constantly reminded him, there 
 was no need to make that breach until they were abso- 
 lutely certain of their facts. It was decided, therefore, to 
 wait until Esther was found before anything should be 
 done to enlighten Gerald. Meanwhile how slowly the 
 hours crept by, would news never come ? the day was 
 nearly over and night would mean another delay. Mrs. 
 Hamilton decided she would send for the lamps, for the 
 room had already gathered shadows, and try end read. 
 Dr. Brown had offered her his supply of books, perhaps 
 there was one among them that would be sufficient to 
 occupy her thoughts. 
 
 Mary Ann, placid and unruffled, came in answer to her 
 summons. Yes, she would ask Rutna for lamps. ; Rutna 
 was an exceedingly good and capable servant, he had 
 be*en telling Mary Ann many things about last night's 
 happenings, would the memsahib care so hear ? 
 
 No, Mrs. Hamilton would not. 
 
 She picked up a book at random as soon as the lampa 
 were brought and settled herself dovn to read, with a 
 determination not to think. But it was altogether use- 
 less, her thoughts would wander. What would Gerald 
 think of it all when he should knov, how would she face 
 the scorn and anger in his eyes ? Above the sound of the 
 rain she was conscious of the servants' voices in the back 
 verandah, apparently a discus&bn of some sort was going 
 on, for raised above the rest she could hear Joseph's 
 pompous voice laying dowr the law. Joseph was the 
 Hamiltons' headman and & the same time John's valet, 
 an excellent servant, but with an unfortunate habit of 
 making himself unpleasant to other people's domestics. 
 She would have to go out and interfere, she supposed,
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 341 
 
 he was evidently, in the absence of his sahib, making 
 himself very offensive. As she had expected, when she 
 reached the back door she could see the group of 
 Bervants gathered together under the light of a swinging 
 lantern hung from the beams of the verandah. 
 
 Joseph's portly figure towered amongst the rest, but 
 his tirade, Mrs. Hamilton noticed, was not being ad- 
 dressed to them, but rather to a wretched figure that 
 crouched shivering on the steps outside in the rain. 
 
 " Joseph," Mrs. Hamilton called sharply, her voice 
 causing some commotion to the group, " what on 
 earth do you mean by making all this noise out here?" 
 
 Joseph's demeanour remained unruflled, he never 
 suffered from any idea of wrongdoing. " This woman," 
 he turned in dignified explanation, " is most troublesome, 
 memsahib, she will not go away, nor yet explain what it is 
 she wants. Only she asks speech with the Resident 
 sahib can such a thing be possible ? " 
 
 Speech wrth the Resident perhaps here was the 
 message they had waited all day for ? Mrs. Hamilton 
 moved quickly to the steps and at her approach the 
 crouching figure drew itseli upright, whispering some- 
 thing, though Mrs. Hamilton could not catch the words. 
 
 " I will speak to the woman," she said on an impulse, 
 " tell her to follow me." 
 
 " Memsahib," Joseph ventured, even his dignity a 
 little shaken, " it is impossible, she is of the lowest caste, 
 a bad woman of the bazaars." 
 
 " Be quiet," Mrs. Hamilton commanded, " and do as I 
 tell you." She turned to lead the way, and the gliding 
 form under Joseph's outraged eyes gathered her garments 
 close round her and followed.
 
 342 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 At the door of the sitting-room the woman paused, 
 almost as if meditating flight, then with a little choking 
 cry she clutched at the saree enveloping her, tearing it 
 away from face and form. So she stood swaying a little, 
 the light caught and reflected in her halo of golden hair, 
 one arm holding something to her heart, then, with the 
 other hand outstretched, attempting even in that mo- 
 ment to shield the thing she carried, she fell forward to 
 the floor at Mrs. Hamilton's feet. 
 
 From nearly the first moment Marjorie had guessed 
 who the woman was, when the light shone on her head 
 certainty could be denied no longer, yet she stood passive,' 
 gazing down at the outstretched figure, only conscious of 
 great waves of repulsion as she looked. It was left to 
 Mary Ann to run forward and kneel by Esther's side. 
 
 " It is the white miss sahib," she whispered, scarce 
 above her breath, " white has come back to white at the 
 last." 
 
 Marjorie came to herself with a shock of horror at hei 
 own hardness, white had come back to white had she 
 no better welcome for her than that? 
 
 Meanwhile Mary Ann had turned the body over with 
 deft hands, pushing aside the wet clinging clothes, and as 
 Marjorie watched pity stiffened once more to horror in 
 her heart, for she saw what the ayah had found and was 
 loosening from the woman's clasp. 
 
 Mary Ann looked up from her task and called her 
 attention softly. 
 
 " See, memsahib," she said, " without doubt God must 
 have given her strength to come, the babe is newborn, 
 and dead, quite dead." 
 
 Marjorie forced herself to look at the upheld bundle.
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 343 
 
 Stiff and calm, the face unlike a baby's since the majesty 
 of Death sat enthroned thereon, every feature perfect, the 
 little lips drooping slightly at the corners, for he had cried 
 just once before he died and the memory of it had gone 
 with him into death, and white, marble whiteness all over 
 save for the gold -shadowed down on his head and the 
 faintly traced eyebrows. It was Gerald's face set in 
 frozen miniature, now at last Marjorie understood, and 
 the floodgates of her pity were open to Esther. 
 
 Together she and Mary Ann, laying aside the other 
 piteous burden for awhile, since they could do nothing for 
 it, lifted Esther and carried her into the bedroom, 
 changing the dirty native clothes for a soft nightgown, 
 washing the poor tired face and body, brushing out the 
 golden hair. The girl showed no sign of life, under their 
 hands except that her breath still came and went, and 
 once she moaned very faintly just one word, Marjorie 
 scarcely heard it, but to her it sounded like " Gerald." 
 
 All had been done that could be done for her comfort 
 before the men came back, and since she still lay in the 
 same unconscious state Marjorie left Mary Ann in charge 
 and went out to meet them herself. 
 
 " She has come back," she said, going straight up to 
 her husband. " Jack, we must send for Gerald." 
 
 Jack put an arm round her, he could see she was very 
 near tears. 
 
 " You mean ? " he asked, but McDermot was before 
 him. 
 
 " She has reached us then," he said ; " thank God for 
 that. Where is she, Mrs. Hamilton ? " 
 
 " In my room," Marjorie explained. " Mary Ann and 
 I have done all we can for her ; I am afraid it is of no use,
 
 344 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 she seems to be dying." Jack felt her shiver and drevr 
 her a little closer to him. 
 
 Brown, who had joined the group, spoke. 
 
 " Will you take me to her," he asked, " I may be able 
 to help." 
 
 " Yes," agreed McDermot : he turned as if to lead the 
 way, but Mar j one moved from her husband's arm in 
 front of them. 
 
 " Wait," she said, " there is something else you must 
 all know, there has been a baby, it must have been born 
 last night or this morning, she has come some long dis- 
 tance, through the rain, carrying it quite dead against her 
 heart. Mary Ann says it has never really lived. I think 
 that is why she came, Jack," she appeared in some odd 
 way to be pleading with her husband, " Heaven knows 
 how she found the strength, but I think she must have 
 wanted above everything else to bring it back to us, 
 because it is in some sort of way ours, it is quite white. 
 Oh, Jack, Jack," her voice broke, she moved to him 
 blindly for the tears in her eyes, " don't you see, can't 
 you understand, it is Gerald's baby, she wanted to bring 
 it back to Gerald." 
 
 Jack Hamilton drew his wife into his arms, hushing her 
 sobs against his coat. " Yes, dear, yes, of course I 
 understand," he whispered, " don't fret so over it, 
 Marjorie, for God's sake, you aren't in any sort of way to 
 blame." 
 
 " But you will send for Gerald at once," Marjorie 
 begged, " at once, before it is too late for her." 
 
 " We will see what Brown and McDermot think," 
 Jack promised ; " you may be very sure whatever seems 
 best shall be done."
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 340 
 
 Brown, once he had seen the patient, came to a very 
 quick conclusion, she would not li ve, probably not even 
 until the morning, anyway she had already been through 
 sufficient to kill ten women of the same constitution as 
 herself. He looked too at the other white small figure 
 and whistled sharply through his teeth as he looked, 
 Brown's customary method of concealing any depths of 
 feeling. Then he rejoined McDermot on the verandah. 
 The Hamiltons had gone to their own rooms, the 
 Resident was alone. 
 
 " Well ? " he asked abruptly, turning to face Brown. 
 
 " She can't last till morning," Brown answered sim- 
 ply, " there is nothing I, or any one else, could do to help 
 her." 
 
 " Has she suffered much ? " asked McDermot. Hia 
 voice sounded strained and Brown, glancing at him 
 noticed how haggard and old his face looked. 
 
 " She probably didn't feel much," he prevaricated, of 
 what use to torture the man further, " in cases of this 
 sort after a certain period numbness and partial loss of 
 feeling sets in. She must have chanced here blindly, 
 good luck more than any purpose I should think." 
 
 " And the baby ? " asked McDermot. 
 
 " Oh, dead. Just lived enough to be born and then 
 died, I fancy." He paused and glanced uncomfortably at 
 his companion. " Just as well, isn't it ? " he ven- 
 tured. 
 
 McDermot turned from him, his eyes came suddenly 
 upon the white cross that marked the English girl's 
 grave in the garden. " You mean when they are both 
 dead the thing need go no further," he said. " Like 
 Hamilton, you are still keen to save the scandal. Oh,
 
 346 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 yes, it is just aa well," his voice rang bitterly, " that we 
 should all have waited till it was too late to help her and 
 thus saved a scandal." 
 
 Whatever might be McDermot's feelings on the 
 matter Dr. Brown and Jack Hamilton were at least 
 unanimous in their decision. Gerald was not to be sent 
 for: of what use could it be, they argued, since the girl 
 would certainly not live to see him even. They were left 
 to manage it their own way finally, for McDermot 
 retired from the discussion, and Marjorie acquiesced 
 She sat up the night with Esther, and towards morning, 
 bending over the bed to arrange the sheets, became aware 
 of the fact that the girl's eyes were wide open and staring 
 at her. No surprise or fright showed in them, only it 
 seemed as if they looked for something and were disap- 
 pointed at not finding it. Marjorie caught her breath 
 sharply and knelt by the bed, putting warm hands on 
 Esther's immovable fingers. The girl's lips moved ; as 
 once before Marjorie just caught the barely sounded 
 word. 
 
 " Gerald ! " Esther asked : her eyes moved from Mar- 
 jorie's round the room. 
 
 " He is not here," Marjorie attempted to explain, " he 
 is back with his regiment in Quetta, you know, he has not 
 even heard that we have found you yet." 
 
 "He has not come," the girl answered. 
 
 The hopeless disappointment in her voice brought the 
 tears to Marjorie's eyes, she would have spoken again but 
 Esther had looked away from her. " I would like to see 
 Mr. McDermot," she said. 
 
 Marjorie stumbled to her feet, she felt herself to be use- 
 less, and not wanted by the dying girl, and knew the
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 347 
 
 knowledge to be deserved. She would have left Mc- 
 Dermot and Esther alone when he came, but the 
 Resident stopped her. 
 
 " I would rather you stayed," he said, so once more she 
 knelt by the bed, hiding her face in her hands. 
 
 Esther turned at McDermot's voice, her eyes search- 
 ing his face. 
 
 " I have made a mistake in coming back," she said, her 
 voice so low he had to stoop to catch the words, " I 
 wonder will you understand. I hoped " her breath came 
 quickly " Gerald seemed to understand while he loved 
 me, but now he has not come there is no more forgive- 
 ness in his heart, he will never know how much I longed 
 for his love to close round me again, just once before I 
 had to die " 
 
 Her words failed, McDermot standing stiffly by the 
 bed, his hands clenched at his sides, looked across to 
 Mar] ori e. 
 
 " Are you not going to "tell -her the truth," he asked, 
 " is not so much due to her from you ? " 
 
 Marjorie lifted her head. " Yes, oh yes," she said. 
 She put out her hand and touched Esther's timidly. 
 " Listen," she said, " and if you can, forgive me. Gerald 
 thinks you are dead, he was ill the night you left, very ill, 
 we thought he would die. Then my husband and Dr. 
 Crow arranged to give out that you had died of cholera, 
 and they told Gerald. He believed them, he believes 
 them still, that is why we have not sent for him. If he 
 knew he would never forgive us, for he loved you, better 
 
 than life or honour, he loved you, Esther " her voice 
 
 broke, she buried her face in her hands and commenced 
 to sob.
 
 348 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 Esther's eyes turned slowly from the bowed head to 
 McDermot's stern white face. 
 
 " I am glad," she whispered, " so glad. You don't 
 know how terrible it was to feel that he had failed me." 
 Sudden fear woke in her eyes, she struggled to a sitting 
 position. " What have you done with the baby ? " she 
 asked. *' You must give it back to me, we will go away 
 together and Gerald will never know, he can go on think- 
 ing of me as dead." Her figure swayed, she fell back 
 against the pillows. 
 
 Marjorie rose to her feet, her eyes besought McDermot 
 for assistance, but as if Esther read their message, she 
 intervened. 
 
 " It doesn't very much matter after all," she whis- 
 pered. " I remember now, the baby died, I couldn't 
 keep him warm, though I tried, and I am dying too, isn't 
 that why you didn't send for Gerald. He need never 
 know now, promise me no one shall tell him, promise 
 me!" 
 
 " I promise," said McDermot, he leant forward and 
 his eyes met Marjorie's. " I promise you, Mrs. Hamilton, 
 that your memory shall be quite safe with me." 
 
 Esther's story ends here, an incorrect finish from the 
 fiction point of view, but death throws up immovable 
 barriers even in the land of make-belief . And for Esther 
 and her baby there could have been no "-happy ever 
 after." They are safer as they are, lying side by side in 
 the shade of the other white girl's tomb in the Residency 
 garden at Bholptur. There is no mound or mark above 
 Esther's grave, the ground has been stamped flat, no 
 flowers have been planted on it, only the jessamine that
 
 The Lure of the Little Drum 349 
 
 runs riot over the other tomb drops its blossoms here as 
 well and the roses have thrown out roots and taken sweet 
 possession of it. When the sun drops down behind the 
 Bholpur forest, the white cross on the other grave 
 flings a shadow across Esther's resting-place. That is 
 how McDennot, though he is in no sense of the word a 
 religious man, likes to think of her,>under the shadow of 
 the white cross. Otherwise Esther's memory is safe, as he 
 promised her it should be in his keeping. Not even the 
 bazaar folk know of that second grave in the Resident's 
 garden, the story of the white woman who escaped from 
 the harem of the Prince has become a fairy tale to be told 
 with many strange additions round the village fires of a 
 night. 
 
 And a new regime reigns in Bholpur, the princeship 
 has been dispensed with, it was a troublesome state and 
 Government has taken it over. A regiment is stationed 
 there now which uses the old club-house as its head- 
 quarters, and quite a little society has sprung up round it. 
 The Hamiltons have left India, he has retired to a really 
 fat billet in the police of the home country, Marjorie has 
 turned her back with joy upon India and all things 
 Indian. Gerald has married again, little Miss Thomas, 
 and is happy in the placid healthy way Gerald was meant 
 for. He does not often think of Esther, because to remem- 
 ber things, especially sad things, is not a strong point in 
 his character, but he will never quite forget her, because 
 he loved Esther in a way he never dreams of loving his 
 present wife. Brown has retired to his beloved Ireland, 
 Donaldson is married and has been transferred to Burma. 
 
 Only the missionaries remain the same as ever, the 
 Lvalls a little thinner, a little older, a little more reserved,
 
 350 The Lure of the Little Drum 
 
 shrinking very much from the new society round them, 
 and the Black Beetle unchangeable and unsociable as 
 ever. And McDermot has his memories all to himself. 
 The years pass and leave him much the same, a silent, 
 strong man, very clever, but neither amusing nor soci- 
 able, the ladies of the' station say. 
 
 So Esther's story, beginning with dust and death, ends 
 in death and dust. Yet since the roses grow as sweet and 
 wonderful from her dust as from the other girl's, it may be 
 taken as a symbol that Death has levelled all things and 
 wiped out the misdeeds of her life with an impartial 
 hand 
 
 " Nothing endures ; fair virtues fade with time, 
 Foul sins grow purged thereby." 
 
 FINIS 
 
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