CHAPTER VII

etternotbeclearedup. “Ohno,itwasn’tthat,”MissQuestedpersisted.“TheyevengaveupgoingtoCalcuttatoentertainus.Wemusthavemadesomestupidblunder,webothfeelsure.” “Iwouldn’tworryaboutthat.” “ExactlywhatMr.Heasloptellsme,”sheretorted,reddeningalittle.“Ifonedoesn’tworry,how’sonetounderstand?” Thehostwasinclinedtochangethesubject,butAziztookitupwarmly,andonlearningfragmentsofthedelinquents’namepronouncedthattheywereHindus. “SlackHindus—theyhavenoideaofsocietyIknowthemverywellbecauseofadoctoratthehospital.Suchaslack,unpunctualfellow!Itisaswellyoudidnotgototheirhouse,foritwouldgiveyouawrongideaofIndia.Nothingsanitary.Ithinkformyownparttheygrewashamedoftheirhouseandthatiswhytheydidnotsend.” “That’sanotion,”saidtheotherman. “Idosohatemysteries,”Adelaannounced. “WeEnglishdo.” “IdislikethemnotbecauseI’mEnglish,butfrommyownpersonalpointofview,”shecorrected. “IlikemysteriesbutIratherdislikemuddles,”saidMrs.Moore. “Amysteryisamuddle.” “Oh,doyouthinkso,Mr.Fielding?” “Amysteryisonlyahigh-soundingtermforamuddle.Noadvantageinstirringitup,ineithercase.AzizandIknowwellthatIndia’samuddle.” “India’s——Oh,whatanalarmingidea!” “There’llbenomuddlewhenyoucometoseeme,”saidAziz,ratheroutofhisdepth.“Mrs.Mooreandeveryone—Iinviteyouall—oh,please.” Theoldladyaccepted:shestillthoughttheyoungdoctorexcessivelynicemoreover,anewfeeling,halflanguor,halfexcitement,badeherturndownanyfreshpath.MissQuestedacceptedoutofadventure.ShealsolikedAziz,andbelievedthatwhensheknewhimbetterhewouldunlockhiscountryforher.Hisinvitationgratifiedher,andsheaskedhimforhisaddress. Azizthoughtofhisbungalowwithhorror.Itwasadetestableshantynearalowbazaar.Therewaspracticallyonlyoneroominit,andthatinfestedwithsmallblackflies.“Oh,butwewilltalkofsomethingelsenow,”heexclaimed.“IwishIlivedhere.Seethisbeautifulroom!Letusadmireittogetherforalittle.Seethosecurvesatthebottomofthearches.Whatdelicacy!ItisthearchitectureofQuestionandAnswer.Mrs.Moore,youareinIndiaIamnotjoking.”Theroominspiredhim.Itwasanaudiencehallbuiltintheeighteenthcenturyforsomehighofficial,andthoughofwoodhadremindedFieldingoftheLoggiade’LanziatFlorence.Littlerooms,nowEuropeanized,clungtoitoneitherside,butthecentralhallwasunpaperedandunglassed,andtheairofthegardenpouredinfreely.Onesatinpublic—onexhibition,asitwere—infullviewofthegardenerswhowerescreamingatthebirdsandofthemanwhorentedthetankforthecultivationofwaterchestnut.Fieldingletthemangotreestoo—therewasnoknowingwhomightnotcomein—andhisservantssatonhisstepsnightanddaytodiscouragethieves.Beautifulcertainly,andtheEnglishmanhadnotspoiltit,whereasAzizinanoccidentalmomentwouldhavehungMaudeGoodmansonthewalls.Yettherewasnodoubttowhomtheroomreallybelonged.... “Iamdoingjusticehere.ApoorwidowwhohasbeenrobbedcomesalongandIgiveherfiftyrupees,toanotherahundred,andsoonandsoon.Ishouldlikethat.” Mrs.Mooresmiled,thinkingofthemodernmethodasexemplifiedinherson.“Rupeesdon’tlastforever,I’mafraid,”shesaid. “Minewould.GodwouldgivememorewhenhesawIgave.Alwaysbegiving,liketheNawabBahadur.Myfatherwasthesame,thatiswhyhediedpoor.”Andpointingabouttheroomhepeopleditwithclerksandofficials,allbenevolentbecausetheylivedlongago.“Sowewouldsitgivingforever—onacarpetinsteadofchairs,thatisthechiefchangebetweennowandthen,butIthinkwewouldneverpunishanyone.” Theladiesagreed. “Poorcriminal,givehimanotherchance.Itonlymakesamanworsetogotoprisonandbecorrupted.”Hisfacegrewverytender—thetendernessofoneincapableofadministration,andunabletograspthatifthepoorcriminalisletoffhewillagainrobthepoorwidow.Hewastendertoeveryoneexceptafewfamilyenemieswhomhedidnotconsiderhuman:onthesehedesiredrevenge.HewaseventendertotheEnglishheknewatthebottomofhisheartthattheycouldnothelpbeingsocoldandoddandcirculatinglikeanicestreamthroughhisland.“Wepunishnoone,noone,”herepeated,“andintheeveningwewillgiveagreatbanquetwithanautchandlovelygirlsshallshineoneverysideofthetankwithfireworksintheirhands,andallshallbefeastingandhappinessuntilthenextday,whenthereshallbejusticeasbefore—fiftyrupees,ahundred,athousand—tillpeacecomes.Ah,whydidn’tweliveinthattime?—ButareyouadmiringMr.Fielding’shouse?Dolookhowthepillarsarepaintedblue,andtheverandah’spavilions—whatdoyoucallthem?—thatareaboveusinsidearebluealso.Lookatthecarvingonthepavilions.Thinkofthehoursittook.Theirlittleroofsarecurvedtoimitatebamboo.Sopretty—andthebambooswavingbythetankoutside.Mrs.Moore!Mrs.Moore!” “Well?”shesaid,laughing. “Yourememberthewaterbyourmosque?Itcomesdownandfillsthistank—askilfularrangementoftheEmperors.TheystoppedheregoingdownintoBengal.Theylovedwater.Wherevertheywenttheycreatedfountains,gardens,hammams.IwastellingMr.FieldingIwouldgiveanythingtoservethem.” Hewaswrongaboutthewater,whichnoEmperor,howeverskilful,cancausetogravitateuphilladepressionofsomedepthtogetherwiththewholeofChandraporelaybetweenthemosqueandFielding’shouse.Ronnywouldhavepulledhimup,Turtonwouldhavewantedtopullhimup,butrestrainedhimself.Fieldingdidnotevenwanttopullhimuphehaddulledhiscravingforverbaltruthandcaredchieflyfortruthofmood.AsforMissQuested,sheacceptedeverythingAzizsaidastrueverbally.Inherignorance,sheregardedhimas“India,”andneversurmisedthathisoutlookwaslimitedandhismethodinaccurate,andthatnooneisIndia. Hewasnowmuchexcited,chatteringawayhard,andevensayingdamnwhenhegotmixedupinhissentences.Hetoldthemofhisprofession,andoftheoperationshehadwitnessedandperformed,andhewentintodetailsthatscaredMrs.Moore,thoughMissQuestedmistookthemforproofsofhisbroad-mindednessshehadheardsuchtalkathomeinadvancedacademiccircles,deliberatelyfree.Shesupposedhimtobeemancipatedaswellasreliable,andplacedhimonapinnaclewhichhecouldnotretain.Hewashighenoughforthemoment,tobesure,butnotonanypinnacle.Wingsborehimup,andflaggingwoulddeposithim. ThearrivalofProfessorGodbol