Banked Fires, Page 3

  CHAPTER III

  THE CIVIL SURGEON

  From the moment of the doctor's arrival the tension of watching waseased; the very sight of his wide shoulders in the doorway of the tentbrought instantaneous relief to Joyce whose faith, as far as her childwas concerned, was material rather than spiritual. Though she had feltan instinctive shrinking from the man's society on the few occasions onwhich they had met, her whole heart went out to welcome him with earnestsupplication. He possessed the knowledge, under God, to save her child;therefore, surely, was he Superman--a being apart, to be reverencedabove his fellows.

  Captain Dalton of the Indian Medical Service, and Civil Surgeon ofMuktiarbad, was an unfriendly being of peculiar personality, whom no onecould comprehend. Ordinarily, he was repellent to intimacies; a reservedautocrat, and content to be unpopular. Though elected a member of theClub, he had little use for its privileges. Having fulfilled his duty tohis neighbours by calling on them shortly after his arrival in theStation that summer, he had retired into professional and private life,and was as difficult to cultivate as the Pope of Rome. He rarelyaccepted invitations, and issued none. Men who called upon him receiveda rigid hospitality, nothing more, so that they soon ceased to visit himat all, at which he was relieved.

  That he was a gifted musician became generally known when classicalstrains from a grand piano were wafted through the Duranta hedge whichencompassed his grounds, riveting passers-by to the roadway at somesacrifice to personal dignity, that they might listen and admire.Sometimes he was heard to sing to his own accompaniment in a voice ofextraordinary richness and sympathy. The evening breeze would carry thetones of his fine baritone voice farther than the Duranta hedge; andthough bungalows were widely separated by private grounds of many acres,with paddocks and lanes between, his neighbours would hang out of theirwindows to catch every note, and afterwards at the common meeting groundof the Club, discourse on the advantage of their proximity to thesinger.

  All persuasions to repeat his performances in public met with obstinatediscouragement, till, reluctantly, the Station left him alone. Injuredfeelings were nourished, and opinions concerning his conduct and mannersgrew harsh and unrelenting the instant his back was turned. To his facethere was no failure of cordiality, for it is not politic in a smallstation to quarrel with one's doctor.

  It was on the polo-ground, on the occasion of a slight accident whichmight have been more serious, that Joyce first met Captain Dalton,--abare fortnight ago. His appointment had taken place while she had beenat the hills, and at the introduction she had resented the impudentscrutiny of his eyes, not realising the fact that she had been anarresting picture with the hue of mountain roses in her cheeks, and eyeslike English forget-me-nots; in beauty and colouring a rarity in thatrural district of Bengal.

  Perhaps the doctor wondered at the unusual combination of prettiness andsimplicity, for, in his experience, good looks without vanity weresomething unique. Possibly he was sceptical, for a smile of satirelurked at the back of his inscrutable eyes. At any rate, he had foundher an interesting study, and the jade-green orbs, reckoned his finestfeature, seemed to assess her from top to toe, critically and coolly.Though he made no effort to engage her in conversation, he had lingeredin her vicinity, listening to her childish prattle; and, contrary toexpectations, long after the need of his services was past, he hadloitered on the polo-ground till the Merediths had driven away in theircar.

  On looking back, Joyce had felt a sense of resentment at his quietcontempt of the ladies present. His cynical study of herself without anyattempt to cultivate her society annoyed her self-esteem.

  "He's positively rude!" was her indignant verdict, later. "I wonderpeople put up with him. And he has perfectly hateful eyes."

  "The ladies think them very handsome eyes," Meredith had insinuated.

  "They are very uncomfortable; like a thought-reader's. Anyhow, I shallnot allow him to stare at me another time."

  "There's a saying that 'a cat may look at the queen,'" he had remarkedmischievously.

  "It's a blessing, however, that one may choose one's friends!" she hadfinally stated; and her husband allowed the subject to drop, notdispleased at her repugnance to the doctor whom he marked dangerous tofeminine susceptibility and an unknown quantity.

  Captain Dalton had called the following Sunday at noon, and was receivedby both husband and wife for the conventional few minutes. Being theofficial holiday, it was recognised as the correct day for men to payformal visits, and by an unwritten law, at the warmest hour in thetwenty-four.

  Another time they had driven past each other in a lane, when Daltongravely raised his hat in acknowledgment of her bow. Lastly, he had satbeside her at a Hindu dramatic performance held in the grounds of alocal landowner, in celebration of a religious festival, and he hadbarely noticed her existence, being engaged with his host on the otherside.

  On the whole, he had not made a favourable impression on Joyce Meredith.But what did it matter, now? He had come out to their camp, many milesaway from the Station, post-haste to save her child, and for that shewas thankful. All memory of the doctor's bad manners was forgotten whenshe saw him enter the tent with her husband, a strong virile being, fromhis keen eyes and locked lips to his brisk tread;--God's own agent tocure her babe; a blessed healer of the sick, to whom the mysteries ofthe human frame were revealed; who could fight even death!

  "Oh, Doctor," she cried piteously, the tears like great dewdrops on herlashes: "Baby has been so bad--I thought, once, I had lost him!"

  Without formal greetings, Dalton passed to the cot, and stooping overit, began his examination of the case.

  Appreciating the reproof conveyed by his silence, the little mother satstill while the examination proceeded, answering in tremulous tones thecrisp, short questions hurled at her from time to time.

  By and by, when a certain drug had been administered and there wasnothing to be done but wait for its effects to be apparent, he abruptlyturned his attention to herself. Had she eaten anything? What had shefed on for the past twenty-four hours? He covered her wrist with hishand, studied her highly nervous face for a full minute, and thenordered her away to bed.

  "Take her out of this, Meredith, if you wish to avoid having twoinvalids on your hands. Is there another bed anywhere?"

  Meredith's own occupied the dressing-tent, since he was obliged to giveup sharing his wife's on account of the baby's claim to the services ofan ayah.

  "But, Doctor, I am not ill!" Joyce protested feebly, realising howevernow, that it was mentioned, that a collapse was imminent.

  "You'll do as we think best," he said shortly, "or I had better getout."

  "Who is to look after Baby?" she asked faintly.

  "I am here for that," he said more gently.

  After some futile objections, Joyce departed feeling unable to hold outa minute longer.

  "How are you feeling?" her husband's anxious voice was asking. "You areas white as a lily, darling."

  "I'll be all right when Baby is," she answered wearily.

  In a little while Joyce was put to bed with a sleeping draught andtucked in comfortably, her husband as skilful in his ministrations asany nurse. "Won't you kiss me before I go? Love me a little bit," hepleaded wistfully.

  "Go away Ray," she cried irritably. "Don't worry."

  "You've made me so miserable!"

  "It's nothing to what you made me!"

  "I made you!"

  "You--you were absent all day when Baby was so ill. It has nearly killedme."

  "Dearest, don't blame me unjustly."

  "Then let it drop. I am not wishing to discuss it; I am too tired."

  So was he, but he had no thought of himself while yearning over her, hislovely girl, more beloved in her stubborn antagonism than ever.

  Remembering the doctor's injunctions that she must sleep, he reluctantlyretired to pace the grass in the dawn, a dishevelled figure in hisshirt-sleeves with hands plunged into the pockets of his trousers. Thecool air soothed his ner
ves and brought him a sense of drowsiness whichhe indulged in a long cane chair under the eaves of the dressing-tent.The camp was very still after the disturbances of the night, and the sunrose above the flat horizon like a ball of living gold, its searchingrays awakening the sleeping servants in their _shuldaris_ by their glareand warmth.

  But Ray Meredith was worn out and slept heavily, oblivious, for themoment, of his anxieties and his surroundings, for, after all, hecultivated a broad perspective and a wide tolerance for his littlegirl's humours, since she was only "a kid in years and ideas."

  With the sun mounting rapidly into the heavens came sounds of life fromthe distant village. Far away, cow-bells tinkled musically as the cattlemoved lazily to pasture lands; dogs barked and children's voices, shrilland joyous, echoed over the fields.

  Domestic servants at the camp were to be seen rolling up their beddingof sacking, preparatory to beginning the common round, the daily task.Not far from the temporary kitchen, the mate-boy squabbled with thevillage milkman over the supply of milk with its sediment of chalk,which he declared had all but killed the master's child. Let himremember that there was a doctor sahib on the spot, and what availed hisprotestations?

  "A raw infant, too, with a new stomach. Assuredly will the police dragthee into court."

  "Who said there was chalk!" almost wept the indignant _guala_gesticulating wildly in self-defence. "As God is my witness not a grainwas in the milk. Have I no fear? Straight from the udder was it milkedinto the brass _lota_ and brought to the camp. Ask of all the village ifI am not an honest man paying just tribute where it is asked, and givingfull measure and pure, to one and all. Would I jeopardise my freedom formalpractices? What evil accusation art thou, _badmash_, hurling at me?"

  "We'll see who's a _badmash_!" the youth returned loftily. "Wait tillthe doctor Sahib gives evidence. Presently the Judge Sahib will say, 'OAmir, faithful one, speak concerning the sediment in the milk which thoudidst show to the doctor Sahib, that the pestilential _guala_ mayreceive just punishment for his wrong-doing.' But I have a tender heartfor the repentant and may consent to destroy the evidence, even refrainfrom showing it to the Sahib, if it is made worth my while. Allot for myown portion one seer of milk, and two for the servants, free of charge,and, peradventure, my memory concerning the chalk will fail when themoment of inquiry arrives."

  "Why didst not thou tell that it was perquisite thou wast wanting, for Iwould have given to thee without argument," sighed the _guala_, invisible relief. "I am a poor man, and honest, though the ways of mycountry-men are crooked, and I give in to thy demand that I might bespared false accusation and much humiliation. Take, brother, thy illegal_dusturi_;[7] how can such as I hope to escape _loot_, when from the_chaukidar_ to the sweeper all are robbing those who provide the_hakim's_ needs? Only from the _hakim_ himself is there straightdealing!--_ai Khodar_!"

  [Footnote 7: Commission.]

  Within the large tent the silence that reigned boded well for the childwho was sleeping peacefully.

  Its improved condition was the latest bulletin issued by the ayah whohad snatched a moment to enjoy a cheap cigarette in the open.

  "What a night!" she said in Hindustani, which she spoke almost asfluently as Tamil. "With both Sahib and Memsahib awake and watching, whocould sleep? I had not the conscience to close my eyes. Nor has a morselpassed these lips, for, with the precious one at death's door, foodturns to ashes in the mouth."

  "Thou art indeed a faithful one, Ayah-jee," said the _peon_.

  "It is my religion, for I am a Christian and have no caste to hold meback from any service that is required of me, _Baba-jee_. The child ismy first thought, and to guard its life, my first care."

  "For which thou art paid handsomely, is it not so?"

  "That, of course! and money is a great convenience, _Baba-jee_."

  Joyce was still sleeping from the effects of the draught, when Meredithand the doctor breakfasted together. On no account was she to bedisturbed. It seemed the doctor took a malicious delight in deprivingthe husband of the pleasure of carrying his wife the good newsconcerning the child; and he saw him depart to preside at his courtunder the trees, without a shade of sympathy for his visible distress.

  "Your wife will be all right," he said confidently, "so don't worry, butgo ahead with your work. I am capable of looking after both mother andchild."

  "I have no doubt of it," Meredith grumbled, "but you'll send for me,won't you, if anything's wrong?"

  "Most assuredly," was the reply. And the Magistrate took his seat at thecamp table under a leafy mango tree, and was soon immersed in his dutiesto the State. Natives of all castes and creeds thronged the grass beyondthe precincts of the court, and a hoarse murmur of voices soon filledthe air, above which was constantly heard that of the crier naming awitness, or calling up a case.

  When the ayah brought Captain Dalton the news that her mistress wasshowing signs of waking, he poured out and took her a cup of tea,himself, and asked how she felt. "Not very bright, I can see," heremarked, placing his fingers on her pulse.

  "Have I slept long?" she asked drowsily.

  "Five hours."

  "But Baby?" she cried out in alarm, sitting up in bed, giddy andconfused.

  "Baby's all right. Temperature normal, and sleeping like a cherub," hereturned pressing her back on her pillows.

  "Oh, Doctor, is that true?"

  "You may think me a liar, if you like, but it isn't polite to call meone to my face," he said with a crooked, grudging smile.

  "Oh, how am I to thank you!" tears suffused her eyes as she seized hishand and carried it impulsively to her lips. "You have no idea of therelief you have brought me!"

  Dalton had; and by the answering gleam in his eye, showed he wasrewarded for the whim which had prompted him to be the bearer of thegood tidings. It amused him to play with this pretty child-wife, andsound the depths of her nature--if there were any!

  "What is your age?" he asked abruptly, with a doctor's licence toquestion a patient as he chose.

  "I was nineteen in summer."

  "You have no business with a baby when you are one yourself! Now foryour tea," and he held the cup while she leant on her elbow to drink itscontents, a shower of honey-gold hair falling about her face.

  "Is your head very bad?" he asked when she had finished.

  "How did you know that it ached?" she questioned.

  "I have ways of finding out. Your pulse and your flush, for example."

  "Then I am ill?" she asked in alarm. If she were to be ill, who wouldtake care of the child?

  "A little ill."

  "Fever?"

  "Feverish."

  "But I may get up, in spite of it?"

  "Certainly not. Nor would you be of any use if you did."

  "But I must take care of Baby!"

  "I am doing that, already."

  "You are going to take care of me, too?"

  "Yes, if you are good and do all I tell you."

  "I'll be so good, for I want to get well. How long will it last?"

  "The fever? Who can say? However, I dare say it will be only a triflingthing."

  "Where is my husband?" she asked, wondering if Ray knew, and why he hadnot rushed to see her. She was so accustomed to being fussed over, thatshe missed the excitement. No doubt he was nursing injured feelingssince her ill-treatment of him last night....

  "Listen, and you will hear the voices of the multitude before the Court.Mr. Meredith is trying cases and sentencing malefactors to variousdegrees of punishment," said the doctor.

  "Won't you call him?"

  "Are you sure he won't charge me with Contempt of Court?" he teased.

  "If I am going to be ill, I must have him come at once. But firstpromise me something," she cried, clinging to his hand with feverishexcitement; "I cannot bear to stay in camp after yesterday's experience.Tell him that I must go back to Muktiarbad so as to have Baby near you.He might be ill again, and what should I do then!"

  "He might, certainly. Yes, I'
ll tell your husband, but not today. Todayyou will want to be taken care of, and we mustn't pile on the agony."

  "On whom? It would be such a relief to me!"

  "Not to your husband. I wouldn't mind betting he'd have a fit of theblues and be ill himself as a result."

  "Oh, no! Ray never gets ill. He is so strong. That is why he can'tunderstand us. Oh, Doctor, I cannot live in India!" she wailed.

  "Are you very homesick?" he asked with the same grudging smile.

  "I hate India! It will kill Baby--won't you explain that to my husband?"

  "There is no reason why it should kill Baby."

  "How can you tell?--everything is against him here!"

  Dalton decided to humour her because of the deepening flush and starryeyes. The nervous fingers twined about his were hot with fever. "That'sall right. Be happy, you'll go home in the spring if it depends on me."

  "Oh, thank you, you are such a dear!"

  Captain Dalton smiled less grudgingly. She was so perfectly ingenuous.In his critical eyes was a look of dalliance with a new problem. Theywere eyes that must often have studied human problems and not always togood purpose.

  "I suppose the kid is your first consideration?" he asked, amused.

  "He's so helpless!"

  "I see," he remarked oracularly. Before he left the tent he gave her atablet from a phial which he carried in his vest-pocket.

  "Do you know," she ventured in the hurried accents of feverishness, "Idid not like you a bit when I first met you."

  "And now?"

  "You are so different from what I had imagined."

  "What was that?"

  "You seemed an animated iceberg--forbidding and--yes, almostdisagreeable. You make most people afraid of you."

  "It matters very little to me what people think of me," he returnedindifferently.

  "Don't you ever care for friends?"

  "I have no use for friends--besides, who are one's friends? I haveceased to believe in friendship," he sneered.

  She studied his face gravely. "I don't like to hear you speak like that.We would be your friends if you would let us."

  Dalton checked a laugh of genuine amusement, the first sound of mirthshe had heard from his lips, and it was not pleasant hearing.

  "You are very good," he said tolerantly, "but it wouldn't work. Iwouldn't suggest the experiment, if I may advise you."

  "I certainly shall not, if you are nasty," she pouted.

  Dalton laughed again disagreeably and went out.

  He was truly a conundrum, she decided, and difficult to know. Yet howkind he had been to her and careful of her child! for that she wouldalways be grateful. But for him, anything might have happened! Strangefellow!--why was he so antagonistic to people when his profession madehim a ministering angel to humanity? Joyce felt her head aching soviolently at this stage that she abandoned the puzzle of CaptainDalton's nature and indulged in ecstasies over the thought of her baby'srecovery. It made her so happy that, when her husband entered with thedoctor, she flung her arms about his neck and apologised for herexhibition of bad temper. "I was horrible to you, Ray. Do forgive me,"sounded very sweet in her husband's ears. What the doctor thought was ofno importance to her.

  Meredith mumbled transports of joy on her lips and was beside himselfwith anxiety that she should be feverish. He plied her with questions inhis solicitude, and stood by in sulky jealousy while the doctor made hisprofessional examination of her lungs and heart.

  Joyce said "ninety-nine" many times obediently, and was like a child inher unconsciousness of self. One all-absorbing thought occupied hermind, and that was her baby's well-being.

  "Isn't Captain Dalton an angel?" she cried when the examination was overand her lungs pronounced in perfect order. "I shall love him for everafter his kindness to us; only, he won't let me. He has no use, he says,for friends!"

  Dalton smiled grimly as he put away his stethoscope. "Have you everheard of the qualities that go to make a good doctor?" he asked coolly.

  "Tell me," she demanded.

  "An unerring judgment, nerves of steel, and a heart of stone."

  "And have you managed to acquire all three?" she asked playfully.

  "The petrifaction of the last-named is quite an old story," he remarked,as he passed out of the tent.

  "You must not talk so much, sweetheart, with a rising temperature,"Meredith cautioned, fussing over her, while, outside, the trial of anotorious criminal was suspended till the Magistrate should think fit toreturn. "How did Dalton find out that you had fever?" he questionedsuspiciously. "Did you send for him?"

  "Oh, no. He brought me news of Baby and gave me my tea. Isn't he queer?Not half so bad as people make him out to be. Oh!--and I was sooverjoyed and excited that I kissed his hand. I wonder what he thoughtof my foolishness?" and she laughed at the joke; but her husband seemedto have lost his sense of humour, for he retired from the bedside topace the drugget in distinct annoyance.

  "Damned officious of him," he grumbled. "You were not his patient."

  "I am _now_, so it's all right."

  "You shouldn't have forgotten your dignity."

  "I know it, but that's the way with me. I never remember that I haveany!"

  "You are a married woman and no longer a child," he continuedreproachfully.

  "I shall always be a silly fool, I'm afraid," she sighed. "However, he'sonly the doctor, and a doctor is something between an angel and anautomaton."

  "The devil he is!" Meredith growled, kicking a hassock to the other endof the tent.

  "Come here, you big goose," she said wearily, stretching her limbs;"kiss me this instant, and go back to the malefactors. I want to sleepoff this attack and get well quickly."

  Meredith could not bear to see her looking ill and wanted no secondbidding to demonstrate his love for her. After kissing her mosttenderly, he tucked her in comfortably, and, much against hisinclination, left her to the doctor's ministrations.