The Road to Mandalay Part 37

"Oh, I don't want no thanks for what has been a real pleasure. Haven't I seen with me own two eyes all the terrible harm this drug-takin'

leads to? And if I've been in a small way the means of puttin' a stop to some of it, I'll be a proud man." He paused to clear his throat, and continued: "I suppose, you have not seen anything of Ma Chit lately?"

"No."

"She keeps you from goin' to the Salters, doesn't she? She's always sittin' about there on the steps, heart-broken, because she can't get a word wid ye! Of course, I'm not surprised she's took a fancy to ye."

"Fancy! Rot!" burst out Shafto. "I can't stand these cheeky Burmese girls. I only hope I may never set eyes on Ma Chit again."

"Well, then, as likely as not ye won't," remarked Mung Baw soothingly.

"She has a rich relation up at Thayetmyo, and she's swithering between love and money. Perhaps, after all, money will carry the day. Well, now, I must be goin' to me duties--and me devotions, and I'll bid ye good evening."

The conversation at "Heidelberg" interrupted by Lily had been resumed on a suitable occasion in the gardens of the "Barn," and Sophy and Shafto were now provisionally engaged.

"I'm a wretched match for you, Sophy," he declared; "I don't believe your mother will allow it. I've no prospects."

"Never mind prospects," was her reckless reply. "We shall have enough to live on. I have a hundred a year of my own, and I'm quite a good manager, with a real taste for millinery. If the worst comes to the worst, I shall open a shop in Phayre Street and make our fortune!"

It was mail day and Shafto, who now dined at the "Barn," was unusually late in appearing. He looked rather excited and out of himself as he entered with many apologies. After dinner he and Sophy paced the drive in the silver moonlight, and she began:

"I could hardly sit still, or eat a morsel, for anyone could see that you were bursting with some great news. What is it?"

"I have two pieces of news, and I'll give you first of all one that concerns ourselves. I saw in the _Mail_ some weeks ago that my uncle, Julian Shafto, was dead. He had no family and left no will; and I found a letter to-day at the office from a lawyer, informing me that I, being next of kin, am heir-at-law, and succeed to the property and a fairly large income."

"Oh, Douglas, how splendid! It sounds too good to be true!"

"I never saw my uncle; he and my father had a disagreement before I was born, and had no communication with one another. He did not even send us a line when my father died. I fancy he was a hard-bitten old bachelor. I've not seen the family place, Shafton Court, and don't know much about it, except I remember my father saying there were one or two fine pictures, a fair library, and, what did not interest him, first-rate partridge shooting."

"Oh, what a piece of good fortune! Do let us go in at once and tell Polly."

"But would you not like to hear my other piece of news, which is even better?"

"It could not be better; but do tell me quickly."

"FitzGerald has brought off a splendid _coup_ up the river--run in the cocaine gang and collared no end of drugs. He is to receive the thanks of the L.G. and the Government reward."

"How did he discover it?"

"A man I know really put him on the track. The cocaine lair was in a village, so deserted and tumble-down and haunted, that no one suspected it, or went near it. A _pongye_ Kyoung, said to be infested by malignant _nats_ and hundreds of snakes, was the head office. Rather a clever dodge."

"Do you think this will put an end to the traffic?"

"No; but it will give it a tremendous set-back; where there is a demand, there will always be a supply, but for a considerable time--at least a year or two--cocaine will be scarce. They caught a good many of the small fry, but as usual the big fish escaped--all but one wealthy Mahommedan, but he is bound to wriggle out somehow. Another point in favour of the short supply of cocaine is the disappearance of Krauss."

"What!" exclaimed Sophy. "Oh, Douglas, surely you don't mean that _he_ was in it?"

"In it--I should think so. Up to his neck!"

"Oh, but are you certain?"

"Quite certain! This will explain his many mysterious journeys, the gangs of natives who were always hanging round his office, and his suspicious opulence. You may have noticed that he had no friends among the better cla.s.s of Rangooner; whether British or German; they all suspected him of dirty hands. He had no conscience and was absolutely unscrupulous. It was a strange Nemesis that his wife--to whom you say he was devoted--should kill herself with the very drug he was smuggling."

"Yes, poor Aunt Flora," murmured Sophy; "that is a dreadful tale, which I shall always keep from mother. I think if she were to know it, it would nearly break her heart."

CHAPTER x.x.xVI

THE BOMBSh.e.l.l

In spite of the claims of his own affairs, Shafto did not immediately resign his post at Gregory's, for it happened to be an unusually busy season; there was a heavy paddy crop and, owing to fever, the staff were short-handed; therefore, for the present he decided to stick to the ship, especially as Sophy was, so to speak, on board.

Mrs. Gregory and Sophy were returning to England at the end of August; naturally he booked his pa.s.sage for the same date, and it was a happy coincidence that he and his fiancee were once more to be shipmates on the _Blankshire_. Meanwhile they were enjoying the time of their lives; the rides or strolls in the grounds or in Dalhousie Park, and dances at the Club, were delightful, and their world was sympathetic and smiled upon the engagement.

Mrs. Gregory loved a wedding. Her rooms, appointments and well-drilled staff readily lent themselves to such festivals, and why, she asked, should Sophy not be married from the "Barn," take a trip up the river for her honeymoon, in order to see something of the real country, and buy her trousseau after her arrival in London?

Fired with this project, both she and Shafto dispatched long and plausible letters to Mrs. Leigh; but Mrs. Leigh declined to entertain the idea and, in equally long and eloquent effusions, set forth the fact that she had seen nothing of her youngest daughter for nearly two years and claimed a share of her company ere she was carried away to another home. She had, however, given a cordial a.s.sent to Sophy's engagement, and declared that she would gladly accept Douglas Shafto as a son, but Sophy must be married from home and in the old church at Chelsea.

As Mrs. Gregory returned this letter, she said:

"Well, Sophy, you must only take a sort of pre-honeymoon tour; we will go up to Mandalay, and maybe explore a bit of the Shan hills; I shall coax George to come--he has not had a holiday for ages. Douglas must get a fortnight off duty, and Martin Kerr, our donnish old cousin, who is arriving from Calcutta in a day or two, may accompany us; he is a bachelor, very well off, and has lived all his life like a hermit crab in his college in Oxford. Lately he had a bad breakdown, and was ordered an immense rest and change; so now he has ventured out to blink at the universe beyond Carfax and the High, I expect he will find us shamelessly trivial and ignorant. How his eyes will open when they look upon this glaring world and behold some glaring facts! I shall invite Miss Maitland to join our party; she is of a nice suitable age, and I shall pair her off with Martin; we will take George's _durwan_, as courier, for he has Upper Burma at his finger-ends, and will see that we are comfortable."

The projected tour proved entirely successful; Mandalay was reached in thirty hours. From Mandalay, after a few days' halt, the explorers fared to farther and less trodden fields, visited the ruby mines, and the wonderful remains of Pagan; occasionally they found the accommodation at _zayats_, or rest houses, a little rough, but this was handsomely discounted by novel sights and experiences, a full view of the Burman at home, and the easy joys of village life. First of all, there was the morning procession of the stately _pongyes_, carrying their empty begging-bowls, and looking neither to the right nor left; there were delicious hours in the forests; boating and fishing expeditions on the rivers, or rides to the ruins of ancient cities, half buried in jungle.

Shafto and Sophy saw so many novelties that they were almost bewildered, but not nearly so much bewildered or impressed as was the Professor, when first introduced to the library of an ancient monastery, in comparison with whose age his beloved Bodleian was a mere infant. Here the volumes were written on palm leaves, then rubbed over with oil to toughen and preserve them; the edges were richly gilt and fastened together by drilling a hole at one end, through which a cord was pa.s.sed, then they were placed in elaborate lacquer boxes. There were countless numbers of such books, devout and mystic, all inscribed in Pali; they included the "Three Baskets of the Law," also the Laws of Manu, which dated from the fifth century before Christ. Professional scribes were kept constantly employed in re-copying and restoring these precious tomes, as the palm leaves only last about a hundred years, after which they become brittle and difficult to decipher, and the copyists have an endless task.

The Professor, attended by an interpreter, haunted the library, made eloquent signs to the _pongyes_ in charge, and was permitted to examine and make notes of the rarest of their frail treasures, for which favour he duly made a generous acknowledgment.

Thanks to Mr. Gregory's courier, the travellers found comfortable quarters in his own ancestral village, and here they were able to watch the inhabitants both at work and play. They saw the oxen treading out grain, men working an oil mill, or caging fish; women weaving gay material, and children plaiting straw mats; so much for day-time occupations! At nights there were songs, dancings, gamblings, and games; these included chess, played somewhat differently from what it is in Europe, but still the same chess as when it crossed the frontiers from China. There was a king, but instead of a queen a general, instead of bishops, elephants; and some of the moves were unusual.

Mr. Gregory, who rather fancied himself as a chess-player, boldly challenged one of the elders and, with the entire village as solemn spectators, suffered, alas! a humiliating defeat. Then Shafto took a hand at dominoes, at which, thanks to May Lee, he was an expert; fortunately he came off conqueror, and thus restored to some extent the credit of the party. These games were played by torchlight, the local band--harp, dulcimer, two drums and clappers--discoursed at intervals; here the inhabitants, unlike those of Rangoon, were early birds. By ten o'clock lights were extinguished, the crowd had dispersed, and a serene silence fell on the soft, purple night.

The College Don had thoroughly enjoyed this excursion into primitive life in Upper Burma; he also enjoyed the stimulating company of Miss Maitland; and in this delightful, highly coloured atmosphere, surrounded by agreeable companions, he fished, joked, flirted, and appeared to have shed his formal Oxford manner, along with his Oxford trencher and gown. He remembered Shafto's father and, on the strength of this memory, the two became excellent friends, and Shafto gave him a.s.sistance in the way of adjusting his puttees, helping him over awkward places, advising him what food to avoid and what insects to destroy.

The trip lasted for three weeks and the party returned to Rangoon delighted with their tour, and bringing with them quant.i.ties of snapshots, not a few small trophies and mementoes--which included the great Shan hat, purchased by the Professor--and amusing anecdotes of their varied adventures.

"I feel as if I'd had a bird's-eye view of the real country," said Sophy to her friend. "Those great calm seas of green rice, bounded by dark woods, with a white paG.o.da peeping through here and there; the fierce strong rivers flowing through overhanging forests, and the deep red sunsets, turning old ruins into flames, and then the golden days and silver nights, and all the nice friendly simple people. Douglas and I feel quite sad at the idea of saying good-bye to Burma."

"Well, my clear, the matter lies in your own hands," said Mrs. Gregory briskly, "and after you are married, you can return to Rangoon; there is a fine big empty house in Halpin Road; we might go over and inspect it some morning."

The a.s.sa.s.sination of the heir to the Crown of Austria and his d.u.c.h.ess had caused a profound sensation in Europe; ripples of this far-reaching tragedy had spread to the East; the Rangoon bazaar, like every other bazaar, was full of thrilling whispers, and various prudent traders were figuratively drawing in their horns and preparing for big trouble across the "Kala Pani."

It was the first week in August and on Wednesday; there had been a break-neck and exciting paper-chase, with the finish at Government House. Here a profusion of refreshments was displayed and all the world, more or less, was present; the men drinking pegs, the ladies iced coffee, gossiping, discussing the recent performance and various local matters. All at once a Government _peon_ ran quickly through the crowd, a telegraph _peon_, then a motor arrived with two men (officials) who had not taken part in the paper-chase. Sir Horace Winter, the Lieutenant-Governor, and his military secretary disappeared abruptly indoors, and there was a sudden pause in the continuous chatter.

More than one of the guests experienced a curious thrill, as if there was something electric in the air; then from nowhere in particular the word "War" was whispered. "Great Britain has declared war on Germany."