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 UNIVFRSITY OF 
 ILLINOIS LIB! (\RV 
 AT URBANA-CHAMF -.GN 
 BOOKS! A:
 
 VERONIQUE 
 
 % |lom«na 
 
 BY 
 
 FLORENCE MARRYAT, 
 
 (MRS. ROSS CHURCH,) 
 AUTHOR OF "LOVE'S CONFLICT," "NELLY I5ROOKR," ETC, 
 
 Man's love is of man's life a thing apart, 
 'Tis woman's whole existence." 
 
 Byron. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 
 
 1869. 
 
 [All rights reserved .]
 
 The person charging this material is re- 
 sponsible for it- return to the library from 
 which it was withdrawn on <>r before the 
 Latest Date stamped below. 
 
 Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons 
 for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from 
 the University. 
 To renew call Telephone Center. 333-8400 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 
 
 MAR 1 5 198; 
 
 DtC 1 2 198B 
 
 JAN 2 a zoo 
 
 L161— O-10Q6
 
 
 
 223 
 LV75v 
 y. i 
 
 CHARLES DICKENS, ESQ. 
 
 "My Dear Sir, 
 
 " I thank you sincerely for permitting me 
 to write your name upon the dedication page 
 of ' Veronique.' My offering is but a common 
 flower — perhaps a weed — but, at any rate, plucked 
 freshly from the fields of my imagination ; and 
 neither forced in a hot-house, nor sprung from a 
 dunghill, as some of the criticisms upon modern 
 novels would lead one to believe. ' Veronique' 
 will not live longer than a gathered blossom, but 
 whilst she does so I lay her at your feet, with 
 greater pride in the remembrance that you were 
 one of my dead fathers nearest friends, than that 
 you are the greatest living novelist of the age. 
 
 " Believe me, 
 " With every kind regard and wish, 
 
 " Sincerely yours, 
 
 c — ■ 
 
 " Florence Marryat Church." 
 
 Bbussels, May, 1869.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 TO THE NOVEL-READING PUBLIC. 
 
 Although my name has been now for 
 more than four years your common pro- 
 perty, to praise or censure as you please, I 
 have never yet ventured to appear before 
 you in my proper person, or speak a word 
 upon my own behalf; nor should I intrude 
 myself upon your notice even now, did 
 not the plot of " Veronique ' call for a 
 brief explanation. 
 
 The word "sensational' has been so 
 twisted from its original meaning by the 
 
 a— 3
 
 V! PREFACE. 
 
 cant of what, in this age, we term criticism, 
 that it has become difficult to know in what 
 use it should be applied. To affirm that 
 the story I submit to your approval is not 
 si nsational, i.e., that its incidents are not 
 intended to appeal to your feelings, would 
 be erroneous, since it boasts no higher 
 claim ; but on the other hand, should I be 
 accused of distorting nature in order to give 
 birth to a "monstrosity of fiction," my 
 answer is, that the most unlikely scenes 
 depicted here, the adventures on the Neil- 
 gherry Hills, and the wreck in the Chinese 
 seas, have happened, and are drawn from 
 life ; and it is a remarkable fact, that those 
 incidents in my novels which have incurred 
 most abuse or ridicule at the hands of the 
 public press, have invariably been those 
 gained from the same source. The situa- 
 tions which I create are passed as probable ; 
 those which I have seen take place, rejected 
 as libels against nature. To quote an
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 abler authority than myself : — " Whenever 
 you present the actual simple truth, it is 
 somehow always denounced as a lie ; they 
 disown it, cast it off, throw it on the parish ; 
 whereas the product of your imagination, 
 the mere figment, the sheer fiction, is 
 adopted, petted, termed pretty, proper, 
 sweetly natural ; the little spurious wretch 
 gets all the comfits, the honest lawful bant- 
 ling all the cuffs." Perhaps my honest 
 bantling may share the same fate, but I 
 attest his legitimacy before the world. 
 
 I perfectly agree with the following 
 sentiment, as delivered by the Saturday 
 Preview, on the ninth of last January : 
 — " Let a man once have absolute con- 
 fidence in his line, whether of thought 
 or action, and he smiles at attack." And I 
 have proved it by carrying out this tale to 
 its legitimate conclusion, in spite of the 
 onus which will probably accrue to me. 
 
 But a novelist is professedly a delineator
 
 VI 11 PREFACE. 
 
 of human nature, and I maintain that 
 whilst half the world sits in mourning, 
 a true craftsman has no right to paint life 
 one clash of marriage bells. He has no 
 right, in fact, to deny the instinct which is 
 in him, and will make itself heard, since, 
 strive as he may, his best achievement must 
 fall so far short of his lowest ambition, in 
 order to bring his novels up (or down) to 
 the standard of the circulating libraries. 
 And for my own part, ephemeral as are the 
 secondary romances of the present day, I 
 have sufficient reverence for the profession 
 of which I know myself to be so unworthy 
 a disciple, to make me prefer that my efforts 
 should fall stillborn from the press, rather 
 than flourish by pandering to a false taste 
 for falser art. Notwithstanding which 
 avowal, I venture to hope that " Vero- 
 nique ' may be received with no less kind- 
 ness than her predecessors, and I gladly 
 take this opportunity of thanking you, who
 
 PREFACE. IX 
 
 are my true critics, (and the only critics 
 whose opinions make or mar my fortune), 
 for the cordial hand-grasp which from the 
 first you have stretched forth to me, and 
 which, (though doubtless in a great mea- 
 sure given for my father s sake), has had 
 more than the power to counterbalance 
 such small disagreeables as a woman placed 
 in my position must inevitably incur. 
 
 Florence Marryat Church.
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. ON THE BLUE MOUNTAINS 
 
 II. THE MISSIONARY'S FAMILY . 
 
 III. THE AVALANCHE BUNGALOW . 
 
 IV. LOST AMONG THE PRECIPICES 
 V. PERE JOSEPH .... 
 
 VI. ON THE TRACK OF THE TIGER 
 VII. AN AWKWARD TUMBLE . 
 VIII. SAINTE VERONIQUE 
 IX. THE PROSTRATE A.D.C. . 
 
 X. A TOUCH OF THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER 
 XL THE OOTACAMUND POST-OFFICE 
 XII. "ERIN" AMONGST THE TODAHS . 
 
 XIII. MONSIEUR ! JE NE PEUX PAS 
 
 XIV. GORDON ROMILLY'S DECISION 
 XV. HONEY VERSUS MONEY 
 
 PAGE 
 1 
 
 20 
 
 42 
 63 
 86 
 108 
 130 
 154 
 173 
 192 
 215 
 239 
 259 
 280 
 303
 
 VERONIQUE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ON THE BLUE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 On tlie blue mountains ! What pleasant 
 memories does not the phrase recall. The 
 vision of a lofty ghaut with tropical vegeta- 
 tion clinging about its steep and rugged 
 sides, up which the straining oxen labour 
 painfully, stopping to breathe at every 
 twenty paces, little recking the while that 
 their cloven feet are trampling down a bed 
 of flowers, which conveys no idea of rest or 
 beauty to their wearied senses. 
 
 The vision of bright waters : some, leap- 
 ing in foaming wrath from one mountain's 
 ledge to another, dashing their frothy spray 
 around them as they fall, and emitting a 
 never-ceasing roar, which may be heard for 
 
 VOL, i. 1
 
 2 VEItONIQUE. 
 
 half a mile away ; others dripping noise- 
 lessly from rock to rock, and quietly 
 trickling over their time-worn courses — 
 furrows in the cheek of mother Earth— 
 though Nature's sluices were open, and she 
 were weeping silently over the little notice 
 taken by man, of her exceeding beaut}'. 
 
 The memory of eleven miles of romantic 
 tangled loveliness, but every step of which 
 is a wearisome ascent, until the traveller 
 stands on table-land once more, and turning 
 to survey the mountain he has left behind 
 him, finds that the snowy clouds are lying 
 beneath his feet, hovering half way down 
 the ghaut which he has just ascended. 
 
 Up in the clouds ! what kind of country 
 can this cloud-land be ? A belt of hills, 
 verdant everywhere, except where the path- 
 ways are cut, like deep scars upon their 
 broad, green breasts, and in the valley 
 formed by their magic circle, a wide, calm 
 lake, across the centre of which, a bridge 
 connects the two sides of the English settle- 
 ment, known by its native name of Ootaca- 
 nniiid.
 
 ON THE BLUE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 3 
 
 Dark fir-trees, standing out in bold re- 
 lief against the clear blue sky, and white 
 chalet-looking houses nestling in their 
 bowery gardens against the sides of the 
 hills, remind the stranger at a first glance 
 of Switzerland ; the church with its tall 
 spire topping the umbrageous trees, and 
 the roses, geraniums and heliotropes, with 
 which even the hedges are lined, carry his 
 thoughts back to old England ; whilst the 
 dirty native huts, huddled about the mar- 
 gin of the lake, recall his mind at once to 
 the fact that he can be nowhere but in the 
 tropics. 
 
 Yet that vast range of undulating hills 
 which meets his eye on every side, rising 
 smoothly one above another like waves 
 upon a summer ocean, and stretching far 
 out into the distance, until the naked sight 
 can follow them no longer ; to what 
 country, if not to cloud-land, can they 
 belong? Hills upon hills — vapoury — un- 
 defiled and yet existent ; the majority of 
 which have never, to European knowledge, 
 been trodden by the foot of man ; whose 
 
 1—2
 
 4 VERONIQUE. 
 
 echoes have never resounded to the gossip 
 of camp scandal or the whisper of unlawful 
 wooing; the pure and undefiled amongst 
 the Neilgherri There they lie — no one 
 
 peak particularly surmounting another in 
 height, but forming an interminable vista 
 of hill and valley ; mist-crowned top and 
 sheltered sholah ; each mountain a great 
 possession in itself of probably fertile 
 ground, and certainly never placed there 
 with the intention of remaining uninhabited 
 and unused. 
 
 As the eve roves over them, bathed in 
 the soft smile of moonlight, or laughing 
 in the brighter glories of the sunshine, and 
 the mind remembers that, save for the 
 sustenance of the samba, ibex, and wild 
 buffalo, and the protection of the cheetah, 
 tiger, and bear, they are useless, it natu- 
 rally reverts to the numbers of unhappy 
 wretches who lie festering in our London 
 courts and alleys : who die by hundreds, 
 weekly, of disease induced by starvation 
 and foul air : and sighs to think how easy 
 it is to plan, how hard to d<
 
 ON THE BLUE MOUNTAINS. 5 
 
 Is it impossible that a possession of such 
 magnitude, and the pure and bracing 
 atmosphere of which has rendered it the 
 most famous of our sanatoriums in the East, 
 could be utilised for the benefit of those 
 thousands who might emigrate with ad- 
 vantage to their country and themselves ? 
 
 But it is less trouble to bury them after 
 all, and whilst Government is considering 
 the matter, their great great grandchildren 
 will have had ample time to be pulled up, 
 and pulled down, in like manner with 
 themselves. 
 
 Beyond a few miles' circuit of the three 
 English settlements, Ootacamund, Coonoor, 
 and Jackatella, the Neilgherry hills are 
 unknown territory, and will probably re- 
 main so to all time ; for even the aboriginal 
 Todahs, though they retreat yearly as the 
 progress of civilization encroaches on their 
 villages, are too much alive to their own 
 interests to separate themselves entirely 
 from the more fortunate people who have 
 usurped their native soil. 
 
 Their maunds are always erected within
 
 VKROXIQUE. 
 
 a convenient distance of the cantonments, 
 and the droves of fierce-looking buffaloes, 
 from the produce of which they derive 
 their chief support, may be met, with 
 lowered horns and threatening attitudes, 
 on every mountain path. 
 
 If Todahs ever think, I wonder with 
 what kind of feelings they regard the care- 
 less equestrians, who, jesting, and flirting, 
 and making merry with each other, canter 
 round the lake each evening ; who fill 
 the houses they have erected on the spot 
 where Todah maunds once stood, with 
 laughter, mirth, and feasting ; who call 
 Ootacamund their property, and have re- 
 baptised it in their own language ; and 
 who pass them by, the true lords of the 
 soil, with a look either of indifference or 
 disdain — if they honour them with a look 
 at all. 
 
 Marius weeping over the ruins of Car- 
 thage could not make a grander picture, 
 than the portraiture of one of these poor 
 Todahs as he stands, gazing with proud 
 melancholy at the altered aspect of his
 
 ON THE BLUE MOUNTAINS. 7 
 
 country ; his only covering, the wide 
 blanket cast round him like a Roman toga, 
 concealing a form as fine in its proportions 
 as its height ; whilst his dark face, with 
 its deepset eyes, Jewish features, and 
 curled Assyrian beard, expresses but too 
 plainly what his tongue has neither the 
 courage nor the power to reveal. 
 
 But the Neilgherry Hills are not Car- 
 thage, and our innovations have very much 
 improved the appearance of the place, and 
 ought to, if they have not, increased the 
 felicity of its first inhabitants, therefore it 
 is useless saying anything more about it. 
 Besides, the Todah has one resource left 
 him, denied to his European brethren ; if 
 he does not like the situation or his neigh- 
 bours, he can always " move on." 
 
 -.- 
 
 It was about four o'clock in the after- 
 noon, and the Neilgherry sun, which, at its 
 meridian, is generally too powerful to ren- 
 der walking a pleasure, was beginning to
 
 VKROXlon;. 
 
 cast long shadows on th< 2 s, and show 
 symptoms of decline, when a young man, 
 fashionably dressed in morning attire, ap- 
 peared in the doorway of the reading-room 
 
 of the Ootacamund club, and stood on tl. 
 threshold, leisurely examining the occupants 
 of the apartment. 
 
 In age not over four-and-twenty ; fair, 
 well-featured, and ahove the middle height, 
 his appearance was decidedly distingue .- but 
 the full, bright blue eye betokened a want 
 of power in his reasoning faculties, and the 
 retreating mouth and chin (although this 
 latter defect was nearly concealed by the 
 large moustaches and whiskers which he 
 wore) a corresponding want of decision in 
 his character. 
 
 That he was a stranger there, was evi- 
 dent, by the cool indifference with which he 
 returned the inquisitive glances directed t» 
 his figure, from above every newspaper and 
 magazine in the room, and the motionL 
 attitude lie retained upon the threshold, i 
 though ho were attentively scrutinising a 
 collection »of curious animals.
 
 ON THE BLUE MOUNTAINS. 9 
 
 Until, indeed, a cheery voice from the 
 other end of the apartment, exclaimed : 
 
 " Gordon Romilly ! as I'm a living sin- 
 ner \" and a man, some years his senior, 
 capsizing his chair, in the excitement of 
 the discovery, rushed forward to greet him 
 with extended palm. Some sort of interest 
 did seem to light up Captain Romilly 's 
 handsome, passive countenance, at the 
 sound, and he appeared almost as pleased 
 as his friend, as he gave vent to the re- 
 sponse. 
 
 " Homer ! by all that's sacred ! Why, 
 who on earth would have dreamt of meet- 
 ing you here ?" 
 
 " I might put the same question to your- 
 self. I knew you were in India, of course, 
 but thought you would have had too much 
 duty on your hands to permit of your 
 leaving Madras. When did you arrive V 
 
 " This morning !" 
 
 The words were dragged out slowly, and 
 with a peculiar intonation, as though the 
 speaker were articulating from the back of 
 his throat — Captain Gordon Romilly being
 
 1 VERONIQUE. 
 
 one of those young gentlemen of the mo- 
 dern time, who consider it the correct thing 
 (when in society at least) to appear so 
 utterly fatigued with the mere fact of exist- 
 ence, that they are not even equal to the 
 exertion of speaking plainly. His manner, 
 in this respect, was a great contrast to that 
 of his friend, who was a bluff, hearty 
 Englishman, talking, perhaps, a trifle too 
 loudly, but never guilty of saying a word 
 of which he had need to be ashamed. 
 
 "What an age it seems since we 
 parted !" said Captain Romer ; " why I 
 don't think you had doffed jackets, Ro- 
 milly, when I said good-bye, to the dear old 
 College ; and now we have met on the 
 Neilgherries ! What brings you here, old 
 fellow ! not ill health, I hope V 
 
 " Want of change, my dear Homer ! Fve 
 been sick of my life ever since I landed in 
 this detestable country." 
 
 " Tired of it already," exclaimed the 
 other, " and you have not been in Madras 
 three months ?" 
 
 " Three months ! I beg your }:>ardon,
 
 ON THE BLUE MOUNTAINS. 11 
 
 but have you ever been quartered in the 
 place you mention ?" 
 
 " I should think I had — for three years, 
 and only took sixty days' leave during the 
 whole time." 
 
 " Indeed ! Well, I wonder you're alive 
 to tell the tale." 
 
 " Why, what has the old town been 
 doing to fall into such disfavour with you ?" 
 asked Captain Homer. 
 
 By this time every ear in the reading- 
 room was pricked up to listen to the con- 
 versation passing between the two young 
 men, and eyes were beginning to glare at 
 the turn that it was taking. 
 
 " Doing, my dear Homer," was Captain 
 Hominy's sarcastic expostulation, " I wish 
 to heaven it had been doing anything, 
 but, as far as I can judge, it has done no- 
 thing at all ever since I was unfortunate 
 enough to place my foot in it." 
 
 " No balls — no dinners — or parties of 
 any sort V 
 
 " I have been to one or two entertain- 
 ments, at which people have attempted to
 
 12 V^BONIQUE. 
 
 dance ; mid where, after the first half-hour, 
 
 the men's shirt-collars have laid down lil 
 lambs, and the women's faces have been 
 something too horrible even to think i 
 But I have taken good care never to try 
 anything of the kind, myself," — and hei 
 Captain Romilly made such a comical gc 
 ture of disapprobation that Captain Ron* 
 laughed. 
 
 " But the)' give good dinners there, i 
 any rate." 
 
 " Very good, doubtless, if one had the 
 chance of tasting them ; but with this ne 
 system of serving dinners, d la Russe, and 
 confiding the carving part of the business 
 to natives, the most I have ever succeeded 
 in obtaining was a cold cutlet, or the 
 drumstick of a turkey, just as the second 
 course was bring handed round, so that I 
 am not in a position to testify to the ex- 
 cellence of their dinners." 
 
 " And yet you must have been in the 
 way of seeing the best of them, B 
 milly." 
 
 " I daresay I have !"
 
 OX THE BLUE MOUNTAINS. 13 
 
 "And have not a word more to say in 
 their praise than this ?" 
 
 " Oh ! excuse me — the champagne is ex- 
 cellent, and Bass knows what he is about 
 when he bottles the beer for this country, 
 else I really don't believe I should have 
 survived it so lon^. " 
 
 " You look in very good case, neverthe- 
 less, and you have come to the very place 
 to put you in still better. But what about 
 the ladies, Bomilly — have you done any 
 damage amongst them ?" 
 
 At this query, perceiving the eyes of 
 the whole room fixed upon him, Captain 
 Gordon Romilly feigned total inability to 
 understand. 
 
 " Excuse me !" — 
 
 " Didn't you lose your heart to any of 
 the Madras beauties ?" repeated Homer, 
 who could hardly help laughing to see the 
 consternation depicted on some of the faces 
 around them, at the profanity of his friend's 
 answers. 
 
 " I didn't see any," was Captain Romilly's 
 reply.
 
 14 \ KRONIQUE. 
 
 "What no young ladies fresh from 
 England; nor fascinating widowB on the 
 look out for number two ! I heard there 
 had been quite an importation by the last 
 steamer." 
 
 " I believe I was introduced to two or 
 three girls just fresh from their boarding- 
 schools ; but they looked so horribly as if 
 they expected me to propose to them, each 
 time I opened my mouth, that I was afraid 
 to cultivate their acquaintance. And as 
 for the widows, Homer, you ought to know 
 better than to mention them to a fellow 
 just before dinner-time. Fact is," and 
 here Captain Romilly drew out his cigar- 
 case, and proceeded with a critical eye to 
 select his next victim, " I haven't seen a 
 woman, fit to be called a woman, since I 
 came to this infernal country." 
 
 At this assertion, which rung like flat 
 blasphemy in the ears of those who list- 
 ened, a considerable commotion was ap- 
 parent amongst the various members of 
 the reading-room; and a little old man, 
 dressed in a tight suit of native cloth, who
 
 ON THE BLUE MOUNTAINS. 15 
 
 had hardly been able to keep silence for 
 some minutes past, sprung from his seat, 
 and advancing to where Captain Romilly 
 stood by the side of his friend, spluttered 
 out : — 
 
 " If you say that, sir, you cannot boast 
 the acquaintance of either Mrs. Colonel 
 Dowdson, or Mrs. General MacSquirt, 
 both of whom, I will venture to affirm, 
 are as fine women as you will meet any- 
 where hi the United Kingdom of Great 
 Britain and Ireland !" 
 
 At this unwarrantable intrusion, Gordon 
 Romilly gazed down on the incensed 
 speaker, standing many inches below 
 him, much as a mastiff might calmly 
 contemplate an irritated cur — and was 
 silent. 
 
 "Let me introduce you to General 
 Perkins," said Captain Romer, hoping 
 thereby to prevent anything unpleas- 
 ant occurring from the interruption. Cap- 
 tain Romilly bowed, but still declined to 
 speak. 
 
 " You cannot have seen either Mrs.
 
 1G viaaoNiQUE. 
 
 MacSquirt, or Mrs. Dowdson, sir," repeated 
 tlie infuriated little ( General, throwing 
 down the gauntlet a second time. 
 
 " I have not had that honour," replied 
 Captain Romilly in his most throaty tones, 
 ! he bit off the end of his cigar, and 
 turned it several times between his lips ; 
 and then addressing his friend, lie con- 
 tinued, " Homer ! don't you think we 
 mio'ht have a weed together outside ? I 
 fancy this place is getting a little too hot 
 for me." 
 
 Upon which the young men strolled out 
 of the reading-room, and the club member- 
 threw down their books and papers, and 
 entered into a noisy discussion concerning 
 the individuality of the stranger. 
 
 " Who is he ?" " What is his name T 
 "What does he belong to?" were the 
 questions which eagerly poured from all 
 sides ; and an outcry was immediately 
 raised for the club waiter to produce the 
 book in which visitors wrote down their 
 names and addresses upon first arrival. 
 
 " Captain the Honourable Gordon
 
 ON THE BLUE MOUNTAINS. 17 
 
 Romilly, A.D.C.," was the last insertion 
 there, and then a gentlemanly man with 
 grey hair, who had kept silence hitherto, vo- 
 lunteered to furnish the desired information. 
 
 " I can tell you all about him," he said 
 quietly, " for my friend Kinnaird is inti- 
 mate with the family. He is the youngest 
 son of Lord Erskine Romilly ; grandson 
 to the Earl of Bournemouth, and A.D.C. 
 to the present Governor. He belongs to 
 the Rifle Brigade, and took up his appoint- 
 ment in Madras, a few months ago, when 
 young Plowden was invalided home. A 
 fine young man ! as far as personal appear- 
 ance goes." 
 
 " A conceited puppy !" growled General 
 Perkins, but the opinion no longer met 
 with unqualified assent. Captain Gordon 
 Romilly was conceited no doubt, and a 
 puppy into the bargain, but he was the son 
 of a Lord, and grandson to an Earl, paid 
 Honourables are too scarce in India, to be 
 sniffed at with impunity. 
 
 Meanwhile Captain Romer had ordered 
 his pony-phaeton to the door, and proposed 
 
 VOL. I. 2
 
 18 VKROXrQUE. 
 
 to take the new comer a drive round the 
 lake. 
 
 " I will point out some of our hill 
 beauties to your notice, Rom illy," he said 
 as he gathered up the reins, and the spirited 
 little animals he drove set off at a swing- 
 ing trot down the steep decline, " and you 
 shall see whether they do not contrast 
 favourably with those you have left behind 
 you in the plains." 
 
 " I hope you won't take the trouble to 
 do any such thing," exclaimed the A.D.C. 
 languidly, as he settled himself down 
 amongst the cushions ; " because if they're 
 really pretty, I shall be getting an intro- 
 duction to them ; and I didn't come up to 
 the hills with the intention of going 
 through that kind of business." 
 
 " Are you afraid that love-making would 
 prove too hard work for your delicate 
 constitution," exclaimed Captain Romer, 
 laughing. 
 
 " I really don't think anything about 
 the matter. I'm happy to Bay I never 
 experienced the Bensation ; and hope I
 
 ON THE BLUE MOUNTAINS. 19 
 
 never shall ; for if what fellows tell me on 
 the subject, is truth, it must be deucedly 
 fatiguing." 
 
 " And yet you came here for a change F 
 said Ins friend, merrily. 
 
 2—2
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE MISSIONARY'S FAMILY. 
 
 "But tell me truly, Romilly," continued 
 Captain Homer more seriously, as the 
 ponies landed them on level ground, and 
 they commenced to make the circuit of the 
 lake. " What is it, in this country, with 
 ■which you find such fault V 
 
 "With everything and everybody, my 
 dear fellow," was the decided reply. 
 " The climate is simply abominable, the 
 people, for the most part, stuck-up, and 
 intensely opinionated ; and there is no 
 earthly enjoyment, that I can see, to be 
 extracted from any part of this quarter of 
 the globe." 
 
 " With the first clause of your argument, 
 I have no intention to combat," said
 
 THE MISSIONARY'S FAMILY. 21 
 
 Romer, '•' there is no doubt that the climate 
 is utterly unsuited to our English constitu- 
 tions, and those men who are able to live 
 in it, become so enervated and dried-up, 
 and unlike then former selves, that they 
 appear unfitted for any atmosphere but 
 that which has ruined them. But I have 
 received a great deal of hospitality 
 and kindness from my countrymen in 
 India ; so that I do not like to hear you 
 pass so sweeping a condemnation on 
 them." 
 
 " I speak of a man as I find him," said 
 Romilly carelessly, " and perhaps I have 
 not happened to come across your friends. 
 The people I have been introduced to, have 
 been well enough as long as I praised 
 Indian manners and customs ; but once 
 compare them unfavourably with those of 
 England, and they were up in arms im- 
 mediately." 
 
 " Well, it is natural, is it not ? This is 
 their adopted country ; they are right to 
 stand up for her." 
 
 " Very natural, doubtless, but uncom-
 
 22 VKRONIQUE. 
 
 monly disagreeable at the same time. It 
 riles a fellow to hear them talking of 
 Madras institutions, and entertainment 
 and ceremonies, as though they were the 
 grandest the world had ever produced. 
 Why, would you believe, that one woman 
 had the assurance to tell me, at a Govern- 
 ment House dinner, that she supposed I 
 had never seen so large a party assembled 
 before ?" 
 
 Captain Romilly put this last question 
 so seriously, that he infinitely amused his 
 friend. 
 
 " I can quite believe it, Romilly, and 
 also that the lady was perfectly sincere in 
 making the assertion/' 
 
 " Well, then, she must have been a fool," 
 rejoined the other, not over politely, " or 
 could know nothing of the way in which 
 we live in England." 
 
 " There you've hit it, Romilly ! For 
 the most part they do know nothing of 
 what we call ' society' at home. Tb 
 come out to India, fresh from their board- 
 ing-schools ; and if they visit it at intervals,
 
 THE MISSIONARY'S FAMILY. 23 
 
 It is generally in the capacity of parents 
 with large families, and when they are 
 under the necessity of economising by 
 hiding their heads in furnished apartments, 
 or burying themselves, somewhere in the 
 depths of the country. You can't expect 
 them to have any knowledge of the method 
 of living amongst the higher classes of 
 England, for they have never seen it !" 
 
 " Then why do they brag so ? They 
 talk of their dances, and their dresses, and 
 their suppers, as though they were the best 
 in the world ; and yet I have never been 
 to a ball in India which could compare 
 with a respectable one at home !" 
 
 " Because they are the best in the world 
 to them," replied Homer, " Madras is their 
 London, and Government House, their 
 Buckingham Palace. We brag of ours, 
 don't we ?" 
 
 " Well ! it's aggravating, to say the least 
 of it," returned Captain Romilly. " They 
 talk so big whilst they're in India, and 
 when they go home, suddenly collapse and 
 are nobody."
 
 24 VERONIQUE. 
 
 " To which lamentable conclusion, your 
 displeasure may safely leave them, with 
 every prospect of being amply revenged," 
 said his friend. " I think there is no more 
 pitiable sight than the spectacle of some 
 old Colonel's or Generals better half who 
 has been lording it for years over the in- 
 ferior officers and their wives, in India ; 
 landed in England, still bristling with the 
 pride of importance, to find herself in 
 twelve hours, just nowhere at all ! No 
 wonder the generalit}' of them hate a 
 country, where, if a woman has nothing in 
 herself to recommend her, we have no 
 time to take her husband's length of ser- 
 vice into consideration ; and where Gene- 
 rals' wives, and Subalterns' wives find alike y 
 that without a certain income it is im- 
 possible to keep pace with the herd. In 
 England, everyone finds his level : that 
 soon takes their bragging out of them, poor 
 things ! and so, Ilomilly, I think we 
 needn't grudge it to them whilst they are 
 iere. 
 
 " I'm sure I don't care what they do,"
 
 THE MISSIONARY^ FAMILY. 25 
 
 replied the A.D.C., yawning, " so long as 
 they don t ask me to listen to them. I am 
 qnit of it for sixty days, at all events, so 
 let us be thankful for small mercies." 
 
 " Well, I'm not sure that I can promise 
 you that the Ootacamundians shall be en- 
 tirely free from the same weakness," said 
 Captain Homer, laughing : " but you need 
 not throw yourself in the way of it, unless 
 you choose. What do you think of the 
 cantonment from this point of view ? You 
 will, at least, acknowledge that we might 
 boast of the scenery, without exaggera- 
 tion." 
 
 " Exactly so, only you didn't make it. 
 I admit that it is lovely. I have no fault 
 to find with it, and could exclaim with the 
 inspired Watts : 
 
 ' That every prospect pleases, and only man is vile.' 
 
 Will you have a cigar ?" 
 
 " Thanks ! it wasn't Watts who wrote 
 that line, by-the-bye, but the quotation is 
 too apt to be quarrelled with. If you ad- 
 mire lovely scenery, we can shew you lots
 
 26 VKRONIQUE. 
 
 about here, Rom illy. You have come in 
 the very nick of time, for Newland is here 
 at present, and we are going after ibex to- 
 morrow morning, and shall be delighted 
 with your company. You remember New- 
 land, don't you ?" 
 
 " I can't say I do." 
 
 " What, not Henry Newland ? that very 
 tall fellow, who used to be in the first form 
 at the college ? Perhaps not, though ; he 
 must have been near leaving when you ar- 
 rived. He's up here now, however, and a 
 crack shot. By the way, Romilly, he's a 
 widower, his wife died a few months ago, 
 and they say he was most awfully cut up 
 about it, so don't talk of the happiness of 
 married life, or anything of that sort before 
 him." 
 
 " Am I likely ?" pathetically demanded 
 Captain Romilly. "I didn't even know 
 there was such a thing." 
 
 " I'm afraid you're a bit of a misan- 
 thrope," said genial-hearted Homer ; "but 
 if so, you've come to the best place in 
 which to be cured. There's nothing like a
 
 THE MISSIONARY'S FAMILY. 27 
 
 good stalk over these breezy hills to make 
 a man feel in charity with his fellow crea- 
 tures, and hi a good temper with his 
 dinner. We'll try the remedy on you to- 
 morrow, Romilly, and you shall see that it 
 will work like a charm/' 
 
 " You quite mistake my disposition, my 
 dear Homer," said Captain Ptomilly, "for 
 I'm one of the easiest, best-tempered fellows 
 going ; but it is impossible for me to speak 
 of what I know nothing. I never cared 
 for a woman yet, and I never expect to 
 care for one ; therefore the pleasures to 
 which you allude are as sealed books to me, 
 either in experience or imagination. I 
 have never had anything to do with the 
 sex, from my royal mother downwards, but 
 it ended in some trouble or other ; so I've 
 determined to keep my hands clear of them 
 for the future." 
 
 " A very good determination," said 
 Homer, " and one- which the Neilgherry 
 Hills are not likely to afford you much 
 temptation to break. If you will join our 
 shooting party, Romilly, I promise you
 
 28 VERONIQUE. 
 
 you shall encounter no more dangerous ladies 
 than the poor does, and you are more likely 
 to break their hearts, than they are to 
 break yours." 
 
 " It would take a great many ladies to 
 do that," remarked the A.D.C., senten- 
 tiously. 
 
 'They had just arrived at the end of the 
 lake, where a curve in the road would put 
 the ponies' heads in a homeward direction, 
 along the opposite side, and from which 
 several paths, branching over the hills, led 
 to various scattered houses, a little distance 
 from the cantonment. 
 
 " We will turn here," observed Captain 
 Romilly, " and we shall reach the hotel 
 just as dinner is being placed on the 
 table." 
 
 But at that moment, as he commenced 
 to walk the ponies round the curve alluded 
 to, the figure of a woman, who, with a wild 
 and hurried air was muttering to herself. 
 she went, walked rapidly past them. Her 
 manner was so extraordinary, and the few 
 words which dropped from her lips as she
 
 THE MISSIONARY'S FAMILY. 29 
 
 passed so incoherent, that she attracted the 
 attention of both the young men, and they 
 looked at one another in surprise. 
 
 " What can be the matter V whispered 
 Captain Homer to his friend. 
 
 " Mad !" suggested Gordon Romilly, " or 
 drunk, perhaps." 
 
 " No ! no ! nothing of the kind," was 
 the prompt reply, " why, it's Mrs. Ward, 
 the missionary's wife. Hold the ribbons a 
 moment, Romilly ; I must speak to her," 
 and without waiting for assent, he threw 
 the reins to his companion, and jumping 
 out of the phaeton, ran after the striding 
 figure. 
 
 " Mrs. Ward ! is anything the matter ? 
 can I do anything for you ?" 
 
 At the sound of his friendly voice, the 
 woman stopped and looked him vacantly 
 in the face. She was a thin, middle-ao-ed 
 creature, with a worn and patient counte- 
 nance, whose cotton dress and washed-out 
 shawl clung painfully round her attenuated 
 form, revealing but too certainly the want 
 of under garments ; but the most pitiful
 
 30 YERONIQUE. 
 
 things about her were her eyes, which 
 looked as though she were walking in her 
 sleep, and unable to comprehend what 
 passed around her. 
 
 " Mrs. Ward I" repeated Captain Romer, 
 alarmed at her appearance, " are you not 
 well ? — will you let me take you home V 
 
 " I'm all right, thank you I" she said in a 
 hurried, nervous manner. " They say that 
 there's been an accident, and some one's 
 killed ; and they fetched me from the town, 
 where I had gone to — dear me ! where did 
 I leave my basket V she continued wan- 
 deringly, as she turned her head in all direc- 
 tions, and then, re-fixing her gaze upon 
 Captain Romer — " there's been an accident, 
 no doubt, and some one's killed ; but it 
 cannot be my Alice, it cannot possibly be 
 my Alice." 
 
 " If there has been an accident at home, 
 and you are going there, exclaimed Cap- 
 tain Homer, " let me drive you, Mrs. Ward ! 
 You cannot walk so fast as [ can take you 
 in the pony-chaise. ( lome! let us go at once. ' 
 
 He dragged her hastily towards the
 
 the missionary's family. 31 
 
 phaeton : and almost lifted her up into the 
 seat. 
 
 " Bornilly, my dear fellow ! You won't 
 mind taking the back seat for ten minutes, 
 will you ? Some report has reached Mrs. 
 Ward — exaggerated no doubt — of an acci- 
 dent having taken place at her home, and 
 she is anxious to reach it as soon as possible. 
 Keep up your courage, Mrs. Ward, my 
 ponies are stout little fellows, and will take 
 us over the hill in no time. I daresay after 
 all, it will prove a false alarm." 
 
 But Mrs. Ward was in no condition to 
 listen to any of his kind assurances. Be- 
 lieved from the temporary pressure that ex- 
 citement had put upon her, the poor creature 
 had leisure to realise the horrors she was 
 anticipating, and with a half-smothered ex- 
 clamation of " it can't be my Alice !" sunk 
 down almost insensible at the bottom of the 
 pony-chaise. 
 
 " What is it ?" whispered Bomilly in his 
 friend's ear. 
 
 " I can hardly say : I think she has heard 
 bad news. Boor thing ! she is the very best
 
 32 VERONIQUE. 
 
 of creatures. We must get her home as 
 soon as possible," and, whipping his animals 
 into a gallop, Captain Homer sent his phae- 
 ton, bounding and jolting in the most un- 
 orthodox manner, over the stony road which 
 led to the missionary's house. A few 
 minutes' drive took them to the top of the 
 hill, on the other side of which, lying in a 
 hollow, they could see Mrs. Ward's home. 
 The descent to it was too steep for the 
 phaeton to traverse, even had it not been 
 .only an irregular path strewn with sharp 
 flints ; and as Captain Homer drew rein, 
 and the panting ponies obeyed the motion 
 of his hand, he could see that the plot of 
 grass in front of the buildino; was covered 
 with quite a crowd of natives. 
 
 " I'm really afraid there has been an acci- 
 dent," he remarked to Captain Homilly as 
 he stood up to survey the scene; "what 
 shall we do next ?" 
 
 " Oh, let me go ! let me go !" cried Mrs. 
 Ward, as she struggled into a sitting posi- 
 tion ; and Homilly had just sprung out to 
 assist her to the ground, when a grey-
 
 THE MISSIONARY'S FAMILY. 33 
 
 Laired man toiled up the rocky path to 
 meet them. 
 
 " Emma, it was the will of God !" he said 
 in a solemn tone as he took hold of his wife's 
 hand. 
 
 " Not Alice, George ! not Alice I" she 
 shrieked, looking wildly in his face. 
 
 " Yes, Alice. Has He not the right to 
 take which He chooses V 
 
 But the poor mother was unable to reason 
 or to reply. She sank down again insen- 
 sible where she stood, and Captain Homer 
 assisted her husband to carry her into the 
 house — where Romilly, after having pro- 
 cured a native to hold the ponies' heads, was 
 too interested not to follow them. As he 
 reached the lawn in front of it, the little 
 crowd separated, and disclosed a sight so 
 startling to his eyes, that he sickened and 
 turned pale. On its back, extended on 
 the grass, was lying the corpse of a fine girl 
 of about fourteen or fifteen years old, but 
 who looked, as is usual with English 
 children reared upon the Neilgherries> 
 much older. Her fair unbound hair was 
 
 vol. i. 3
 
 34 vfeONIQUE. 
 
 streaming on the grass beside her j her 
 stockingless feet and legs, barely covered 
 sufficiently for decency by her scanty petti- 
 coats, were marble in their whiteness, and 
 her blue eyes, unclosed, were staring up- 
 wards to the sky, as though appealing to 
 Heaven against the cruel death which had 
 so suddenly snapped the thread of her young 
 life. Every now and then, an inquisitive 
 native would attempt to raise the corpse ; 
 and Homilly could see, by the way the head 
 fell back, that the unfortunate girl had 
 broken her neck. Feeling almost unable 
 to endure so sad a sight, he shudderingly 
 turned aside in search of his friend Romer, 
 and encountered him on his way back to 
 join him. 
 
 " What a horrible accident !" he ejacu- 
 lated. 
 
 " Horrible indeed ! it seems the poor 
 child, in company with her brothers and 
 sisters, was amusing herself by riding a 
 half- trained pony up and down that rocky 
 path. It had on a boy's saddle with an 
 iron stirrup, in which her foot somehow got
 
 THE MISSIONARY'S FAMILY. 35 
 
 twisted, and before she could disengage 
 herself, the brute threw her, and then 
 dragged her down the hill, striking her 
 head on the stones at every step. When 
 he landed her on the lawn, the father says 
 she was quite dead ? There is an awful 
 scene going on in there ; and, to tell you 
 the truth, Romilly, I don't feel as though 
 I could stand it much longer, and as we 
 can't be of any further use, I think we had 
 better go home." 
 
 " But is that to lie out here all night," 
 said Captain Romilly, pointing to the body 
 of the dead girl, "to be pulled about by 
 these curious natives ? Surely they ought 
 to carry it into the house !" 
 
 " I should think so ; but there seems no 
 woman here to take the direction of things, 
 and I hardly like to interfere. The poor 
 mother is utterly incapable, and the father 
 seems little better. I never saw people so 
 utterly prostrated by a blow as they ajjpear 
 to be by this. And yet they have nine 
 children left, and scarcely bread to give 
 
 '3 Q
 
 36 V^RONIQUE. 
 
 them. One would have thought they could 
 have spared a daughter !" 
 
 " She seems to have been a fine girl," 
 said Captain Romilly. 
 
 " Yes. Poor little Alice ! How often I 
 have seen her running about the canton- 
 ment I" 
 
 " I don't half like to go and leave her 
 lying out here/' said his friend musingly. 
 
 But whilst they deliberated on their best 
 course of action, a commotion was visible 
 amongst the assemblage of natives, who 
 first spoke a few words to one another and 
 then drew back as though to make way 
 for some one ; but before Romer and 
 Romilly had time to speculate on the new 
 arrival, a rich, pathetic voice, exclaiming — 
 "Ah! one petite! est-ce vraimerU tot V 1 
 sounded on the air ; and a young girl 
 rushed suddenly between them and the 
 dead body of Alice Ward, and threw her- 
 self upon the grass beside it. 
 
 "Est-ce vrdiment toi? Ah! man Dieu, 
 ayezpitiS de nous" 
 
 She lifted up the dead face, tenderly put
 
 THE MISSIONARY'S FAMILY. 37 
 
 away the stray locks of hair which had 
 fallen over it, pressed it eagerly to her 
 own, and feeling its unnatural coldness, 
 burst into a flood of tears. 
 
 Meanwhile, the two friends could only 
 gaze at her in silent surprise. No taller 
 and much slighter than the body she 
 embraced, it was yet evident from the 
 maturity of her figure, that she was several 
 years older than Alice Ward had been, 
 although the long black cloak which she 
 wore, only allowed her shape to be revealed 
 by glimpses. She had no covering on her 
 head, and her dark hair was bound closely 
 to it by two long, thick plaits which fell 
 below her waist. In her ears she wore a 
 pair of large gold earrings, very old- 
 fashioned and curious in appearance, and 
 yet her shapely feet were but indifferently 
 covered, and the rest of her costume be- 
 tokened poverty. Her burst of grief was 
 transitory as it was sudden ; in another 
 moment she had turned a pair of dark 
 blue eyes, glittering with emotion, upon 
 them and saying rapidly —
 
 38 VERONIQUE. 
 
 " Pardon ! mats c'est bien tristc, n'est-ce 
 pas?" rose to her feet and brushed her 
 tears hastily away. " II nefaut pas qu'ette 
 reste ici" she resumed, appealing to 
 Captain Homer ; and then perceiving the 
 look of incomprehension on the face of her 
 listener, she repeated rather slowly, and 
 with a slight French accent — " She must 
 not rest here, gentlemen ; aid me to carry 
 her to her bed." 
 
 She unbuttoned her cloak at the throat 
 as she spoke, and threw it over the body, 
 revealing white arms bare to above the 
 elbows, and a fair throat and neck, over 
 which a little red neckerchief was quaintly 
 crossed and pinned. Then she stooped, 
 placing her hands beneath the shoulders of 
 the corpse, and Captain Romer and his 
 friend gently raising the lower part of the 
 body they carried it together through the 
 passage of the house, up the narrow stairs 
 to the scantily-furnished bedroom, and 
 placed it reverently on the bed, whence it 
 had risen that morning in life and health. 
 As soon as it was disposed there, the girl,
 
 THE MISSIONARY'S FAMILY. 39 
 
 heedless apparently of the presence of the 
 two men, drew a silver crucifix from her 
 bosom, kissed, and placed it on that of 
 the corpse, and sank down upon her knees 
 in prayer. They lingered for a moment to 
 w r atch her clasped hands and uplifted eyes, 
 and would then have turned away and left 
 her to herself, but that she rose from her 
 position, and with a slight serious inclina- 
 tion of the head, ran past them down the 
 stairs, whilst they picked their way after 
 her, fearful of disturbing the bereaved 
 parents in the room below. They could 
 hear the moaning of the poor mother as 
 they passed it, and the foreign accents of 
 the young stranger speaking some words of 
 consolation, and the father met them at the 
 door with a few broken sentences of grati- 
 tude for all that they had done, which they 
 were thankful to escape. 
 
 As they again stepped out upon the 
 grass plat, the moon had risen, the band of 
 natives had dispersed, and everything 
 looked calm and peaceful. Their pony 
 phaeton was in waiting for them at the top
 
 40 VERONIQUE. 
 
 of the hill, and as they found themselves 
 on the road to the cantonment again, they 
 simultaneously gave vent to their feelings 
 in a long sigh of relief. 
 
 " I shall never care to drive round that 
 way again," said Captain Homer, " I don't 
 know when I've witnessed anything that 
 made me feel so queer as I have done to- 
 night." 
 
 "I can quite understand it," replied 
 Gordon Romilly. " I never wish to see 
 such another sight. But I say, Homer — 
 I wonder who the deuce that little girl with 
 the long hair is. She was the only one 
 who seemed to have her wits about 
 her." 
 
 " I've not the slightest notion ! The 
 thought of the poor parents' grief haunts 
 me so, that I had almost forgotten her. 
 No relation evidently, because she is a 
 Roman Catholic. There are lots of them 
 about here ! Good heavens ! that there 
 should be such misery in the world. No 
 need to warn one against talking too much
 
 THE MISSIONARY'S FAMILY. 41 
 
 of the happiness of married life after this ; 
 eh, Romilly ?" 
 
 " I never did talk of it, did I ?" returned 
 the A.D.C. in his most sententious tone.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE AVALANCHE BUNGALOW. 
 
 The next morning was bright and cloud- 
 less ; and as the young men met at the 
 door of the club, preparatory to starting 
 on their shooting excursion, they felt that 
 much of the painful impression received 
 the day before, had been dispelled by a 
 good night's rest. 
 
 Homer, and Major Newland, were 
 mounted on stout hill ponies ; but Gordon 
 Romilly rode a high-mettled Arab, which, 
 much against the advice of his friends, he 
 had insisted upon taking up to the Neil- 
 gherries with him. As he bestrode it, 
 with the half-careless, half-insolent air 
 which became his handsome face so well, 
 he formed so fine a picture, that even the
 
 THE AVALANCHE BUNGALOW. 4 
 
 n 
 
 worst enemies he had made on the previous 
 day, could not but acknowledge that the 
 Governor's aide-de-camp was uncommonly 
 good-looking ; and Colonel Greene, the 
 gentleman who had recorded his pedigree 
 for the benefit of the club members, went 
 up and spoke to him, introducing himself 
 through the name of his friend Kinnaird. 
 
 At which mention, Captain Romilly 
 shewed there were two sides to his char- 
 acter, for his face lit up with genuine 
 friendliness, and his grasp of Colonel 
 Greene's proffered hand was hearty and 
 sincere. 
 
 " Kinnaird ! the very best fellow going ; 
 I am proud to meet one of his friends. 
 And so you know something of my family, 
 sir ! Sorry to hear it, for taking one with 
 another, I'm afraid they're a very bad lot ! 
 Have you seen Kinnaird lately V 
 
 " Not since last year ; for he is holding 
 an appointment in the Punjaub. I hope 
 your father, and the rest of the family are 
 
 weii r 
 
 " My father is not well, thank you ; he
 
 44 VERONIQUE. 
 
 has been a martyr to the gout for th kit 
 six months/' 
 
 " Nothing alarming, I trust ¥' 
 
 " Oh ! by no means ; not half alarming 
 enough in fact, or he might be induced to 
 allow me to return to England, instead of 
 insisting upon my remaining in this de- 
 testable country until the Governor dis- 
 penses with my services. It'll be the death 
 of me, I'm convinced of that. However, I'm 
 only a younger son, so I suppose it won't 
 much signify." 
 
 " I'll think you'll survive it a little 
 longer," said Colonel Greene smiling. 
 
 " That's all you know about it, sir. You 
 judge by my exterior, like most other 
 people. You don't know what I have to 
 suffer internally, every day of my life." 
 
 " I know one thing, my young friend," 
 said the old man, as he approached nearer 
 to Gordon Romilly, and laid his hand upon 
 his saddle-bow. " I see that you're in- 
 clined to be a little bit discontented, and 
 to view all things here in their worst liofht. 
 But take the advice of an old soldier, and
 
 THE AVALANCHE BUNGALOW. 45 
 
 treat India, (whilst you are in it) as we are 
 cautioned to treat our wives — 
 
 1 Be to her faults a little blind ; 
 And to her virtues, very^kind.' 
 
 It's the only way to get on out here !" 
 
 " But I don't want to get on," replied 
 Gordon Romilly, half- smiling and half- 
 serious, " my only desire is to get off/ 3 
 
 " You're incorrigible !" laughed Colonel 
 Greene ; and the order to start being given, 
 with a few words of farewell, the shooting 
 party rode out of the compound. 
 
 " When did our baggage go on ¥' de- 
 manded Captain Romilly, as they rode 
 abreast through the cantonment roads. 
 
 " This morning at five o'clock," replied 
 Homer, " I was virtuous enough to rise, 
 and see it all dispatched myself. We have 
 nine women coolies and two bullocks." 
 
 " Nine women, and two bullocks ! In 
 the name of Heaven, how long do you 
 intend to stay in the wilderness V 
 
 " Five or six days, if it suits us," replied 
 Captain Romer ; " but remember, Romilly,
 
 46 v£ronique. 
 
 we have to provide food for all the servants 
 who accompany us, as well as carry ' gram' 
 for the horses. I can assure you we shall 
 not live luxuriously, for I have only been 
 able to send on the merest necessaries for 
 ourselves. " 
 
 " Who needs or expects to live luxuri- 
 ously when out shooting ?" remarked 
 Major New] and, a tall, gaunt, taciturn 
 man. " A true sportsman cares for nothing 
 so long as he has enough to eat." 
 
 " Oh ! of course, of course," said Gordon 
 Romilly, who was very apt to agree with 
 what his friends said, to save himself the 
 trouble of argument. In reality how- 
 ever he was much too selfish, and too 
 sensuously-inclined to make a keen sports- 
 man, although his self-esteem prevented 
 him from acknowledging the fact. 
 
 " How far shall we go this afternoon V 
 he demanded presently of Captain Homer. 
 
 " To the Avalanche Bungalow, where 
 we shall dine and sleep. It is only distant 
 eleven miles, but as soon as we are clear 
 of the cantonment we shall have to travel
 
 THE AVALANCHE BUNGALOW. 47 
 
 very slowly, for it is all up and down hill, 
 and in places very slippery. Have an eye 
 to that horse of yours, Romilly ! He'll 
 have you over the precipice if you allow 
 him to dance about in that absurd manner." 
 
 Captain Homer's prophecy being literally 
 in danger of fulfilment, it was some little 
 while before the Arab's master could put 
 the question he had been about to ask, of 
 why the Avalanche Bungalow had been so 
 named. 
 
 " I really can't tell you for certain," 
 replied Eomer ; " but some people say that 
 an avalanche of earth fell near the spot 
 years ago, so I suppose that is the reason." 
 
 " It sounds so devilishly romantic," re- 
 sumed Romilly, " that I expect to see a 
 Hebe in short petticoats and thick ankles, 
 tripping down the steps of a vine-covered 
 chalet to receive us as we arrive." 
 
 At this instance of the A.D.C.'s frivolity, 
 Major Newland gave a grunt of dissatisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 "You'll find it 'devilishly romantic,' if 
 your horse takes you over the side," he
 
 48 VJilRONIQUE. 
 
 said, observing that the antics of Romilly's 
 steed had not yet subsided ; whilst Captain 
 Homer begged him not to raise his hopes as 
 high as his horse's heels. 
 
 " The bungalow itself is picturesque 
 enough," he said, " but instead of a Hebe 
 to wait on you, Romilly, you'll have to put 
 up with the attendance of an old withered 
 native man, in a pair of cloth trousers, and 
 a linen ' puggry/ 
 
 At which prospect Captain Romilly made 
 a wry face, and said it was just what he 
 might have expected in such an abominable 
 and heathenish country. 
 
 But when at five o'clock in the afternoon 
 they came in sight of the Avalanche Bun- 
 galow, even Captain Bomilly's spleen w 
 powerless to prevent his expressing his 
 admiration at the sight. At the foot of a 
 high hill, the lower part of which was 
 thickly covered with vegetation, stood a 
 small building, formed of wood, and having 
 something the appearance of a Swiss cot- 
 tage, which was entirely shut in on three 
 sides by the surrounding jungle, and in
 
 THE AVALANCHE BUNGALOW. 49 
 
 front of which ran a stream of the purest 
 water. The appearance of this little shoot- 
 ing box, all ready to receive them, seemed 
 to put fresh vigour into the travellers, who 
 were wearied, not so much by the distance 
 they had come, as by the slow progress they 
 had been forced to make, and they gladly 
 pressed forward to the door. Their ser- 
 vants having arrived before them, their 
 dinner was prepared, and ready to be 
 placed on the table, as soon as they should 
 have refreshed themselves after their ride ; 
 but Major Newland s native servant, who 
 had been appointed major domo of the 
 commissariat department, met them at the 
 door with a long face, as he informed them 
 that the cow belonging to the man in charge 
 of the bungalow had been carried off by a 
 tiger the night before ; and therefore he 
 had been unable to procure any milk for 
 then' coffee. 
 
 " A tiger I" exclaimed Major Newland, 
 his dull face brightening up as nothing yet 
 had enabled it to do ; " and only last night. 
 Here's luck I" and calling to his " shikarry," 
 
 vol. i. 4
 
 50 V^RONIQUE. 
 
 he commenced a rapid conversation with 
 him in Hindustani, during which it would 
 have been hard to say whether the master 
 or the servant gesticulated most. 
 
 "No milk I" said Captain Ptomer, "well, 
 Daniel, I suppose there's a cocoa-nut to be 
 got about here, anyhow." 
 
 " What will be the use of that ?" de- 
 manded Pomilly, as he jumped off his horse, 
 which had fretted itself into a perfect lather 
 from the unusual restraint which had been 
 placed upon its actions. " You're not going 
 to put any of that nasty stuff they call 
 milk into our coffee, I hope, for I shall 
 prefer cafe noir" 
 
 " No ! but Daniel will express some milk 
 from the nut itself, you ignoramus ; and if 
 I hadn't said anything about it, I daresay 
 you would never have found out the dif- 
 ference." 
 
 As soon as Major Newland could be per- 
 suaded to leave off calculating his chances 
 of tracking the marauding tiger of the night 
 before, and to betake himself to his dress- 
 ing-room, the friends separated to make a
 
 THE AVALANCHE BUNGALOW. 51 
 
 hasty toilette before the dinner was served 
 up ; but Captain Romilly had hardly 
 plunged his head and face into cold water, 
 before Homer burst into his presence again, 
 brimful of a fresh piece of news, which he 
 delivered in his usual hearty manner. 
 
 " I say Romilly, old fellow, by the living 
 jingo, here's the greatest bit of good luck 
 that ever befell a man. Just fancy ! here's 
 Powell located in this very bungalow, and 
 he says if we'll go out with him to-morrow, 
 that he'll shew us no end of ibex, and — " 
 
 " And who the devil is Powell f said 
 Romilly, lifting his head out of the basin, 
 and looking like the rose of a watering- 
 pot. 
 
 " Powell ! why he's the best fellow pos- 
 sible to go about with out here ; he knows 
 every inch of this part of the hills, and has 
 shot over it scores of times. I've asked 
 him to join his dinner to ours, (that's a 
 common thino* when chums meet together 
 at these out-of-the-way places, you know), 
 and it'll all be ready in another minute. 
 Make haste with your dressing !" 
 
 4—2 
 
 imiVtKSITY ot- U.LINUU 
 LI«ftA*t
 
 52 VERONIQUE. 
 
 " How can you expect a man to make 
 haste, whilst you require an answer to your 
 remarks every second ? Go away, do, 
 Romer, and then I may have a chance of 
 getting some dinner before that long fellow, 
 Newland, swallows it, table and all." 
 
 Upon which Captain Homer disappeared, 
 laughing and whistling, and for the next 
 ten minutes the conversation with his friend 
 Powell, carried on from the dressing-room 
 to the general sitting-room, was the only 
 sound to be heard in the bungalow. 
 
 When the four men met at the dinner- 
 table, they promised to make a very agree- 
 able party. Major Powell proved to be a 
 regular old Indian, with thin grey hair, a 
 rough weather-tanned complexion, and a 
 keen sportsman-like eye. He welcomed 
 Major Newland and Captain Romilly, as if 
 he had known them for yrars ; congratu- 
 lated them on the treat in store for them. 
 if luck attended their sport, and affirmed 
 that though he had stalked in the High- 
 lands, shot in the Himalayas! and even 
 hunted on the prairies of South America,
 
 THE AVALANCHE BUNGALOW. . r n> 
 
 he had never had better sport than he had 
 enjoyed on the Neilgherry Hills. 
 
 " We are most anxious to get some 
 ibex/' observed Captain Romer, as. they 
 settled themselves at table. " Newland, 
 who has slain his tigers by the dozen, has 
 not accomplished an ibex yet, and I have 
 never even tried for one." 
 
 " They are very difficult game, as perhaps 
 you are aware, and require more patience in 
 stalking than any other species ; not only 
 on account of their long scent, which is 
 marvellously fine, but their instinct, which 
 never permits a buck to feed without a 
 sentinel beside him to warn him of approach- 
 ing danger." 
 
 "How very curious !" observed Captain 
 Itomilly. 
 
 "It is true nevertheless, and for this 
 reason, although they usually feed on the 
 heights, leaving the does and young in the 
 valleys, and are visible in this clear air 
 from a great distance, it is extremely 
 difficult to approach them without being 
 perceived. However I have no doubt that
 
 .54 VKIIONIQUE. 
 
 you gentlemen have plenty of patience, 
 and plenty of courage, and \vitli it, ev< 
 prospect of success ; and I shall be delighted 
 if my hints can be of any use to you. 
 Have you had any experience of shooting 
 in this country ?" addressing himself to 
 Romilly. 
 
 " None whatever, I have only been out 
 here three months, and this is my first visit 
 to the hills." 
 
 " Then you are about to see India under 
 her most favourable aspect/' said Major 
 Powell with a grim expression. " There is 
 nothing in the place worth living for, except 
 the shooting." 
 
 "Now, Romilly!'' cried Etomer gaily, 
 " you and Powell can have a good dish of 
 abuse together against the country. I 
 don't think you can hate it more than he 
 does ; lie has always burn an inveterate 
 grumbler. " 
 
 " Do you dislike it f asked Romilly, 
 quickly turning to Major Powell. 
 
 "Mortally," was the decided reply, 
 "and I have good reason to do so. It has
 
 THE AVALANCHE BUNGALOW. 55 
 
 killed half my relations, and sent the 
 other half to the dogs. I hate everything 
 connected with it, except the sport." 
 
 " Then, why do you stay here V 
 
 " For the best of reasons ; because I 
 can't help myself. I don't suppose any 
 man, with a soul, would do otherwise. The 
 country is all very well for those it was 
 made for, but it's not a fit place for Chris- 
 tians." 
 
 "Particularly when their literary pro- 
 ductions are not appreciated by the jniblic 
 press," laughed Homer. 
 
 " Oh ! I've got over that old sore long 
 ago," replied Major Powell. 
 
 " May I ask to what you allude ?" said 
 Romilly. 
 
 " Certainly, it is no secret. Some years 
 back, I was fool enough to imagine that I 
 had discovered a means by which I might 
 benefit my fellow creatures, by rendering 
 the method of instruction in drill less 
 monotonous and less puzzling than it is at 
 present. I worked for a long time at my 
 manual until I had brought it to perfection ;
 
 56 VjfeRONIQUE. 
 
 and several superior officers who took the 
 trouble to listen to my explanations, con- 
 sidering the plan would be a successful 
 one, I went to the expense of having my 
 rules and diagrams printed ; confidently 
 expecting to receive, at least, a few thanks 
 for my pains." 
 
 "It is not often that Government repays 
 her benefactors in any heavier coin," re- 
 marked Romilly. "But what was the 
 issue { 
 
 " The issue, my dear fellow, was — 
 smoke ! Still, I never will believe but 
 that my pamphlet would have attracted 
 notice from head quarters, had it not been 
 so roughly handled by the local paper-. 
 
 " But what was their object?" 
 
 " None ! excepting to annoy me. But, 
 having unfortunately alluded, in a sort of 
 preface which I wrote to the work, to the 
 dormant state of the native faculties, and 
 the necessity there was for presenting 
 everything to their imaginations, in the 
 simplest guise, I suppose I hit some of 
 the sub-editors or writers, rather hard, and
 
 THE AVALANCHE BUNGALOW. 57 
 
 they revenged them selves in consequence, 
 by damning my manual/' 
 
 " How could such an allusion affect 
 them V demanded Pomilly. 
 
 " My dear Romilly, don't you know that 
 most of these fellows who have anything 
 to do with the local Indian papers, are half 
 castes," said Captain Ptomer, " and of 
 course they don't like the dormant state 
 of the faculties of their nearest relations 
 alluded to in that cool manner. How 
 would you like the dormant state of the 
 faculties of your mama or papa, shown up 
 in public print ? It was cruel of Powell, 
 as I've always told him, and he ought to 
 have had more consideration for their 
 feelings." 
 
 Major Powell shrugged his shoulders and 
 laughed. " Well, it's all over now, and the 
 less said about it the better, but I've made 
 my last attempt to improve the condition 
 of my fellow creatures. They may march 
 out of step, and get themselves into inex- 
 tricable confusion on the brigade grounds to 
 all eternity, before I'll ever attempt to
 
 53 vKKoxiuri:. 
 
 make the business plainer to their dormant 
 faculties again. I've done with philanthro- 
 pising, or being a 'man and a broth* 
 either.' 
 
 " But excuse me if I say," observed 
 Captain Mom illy, " that it seems incredible 
 to me how anyone could mind attacks from 
 such quarters, any more than you would 
 heed the snapping of a mongrel cur. Why, 
 I should have thought that a glance at one 
 of their local papers, was sufficient t<> 
 decide the worth of their criticisms. Printed 
 on tea-paper, with every other word spelled 
 wrong, and the rules of grammar 'no- 
 where ;' how is it possible that then* reviews 
 can affect the success of any book ? Ev 
 were they universally read and believed, 
 they can only bias the opinion of residents 
 in India, and what are they, compared to 
 the mass of minds to be swayed in En 
 land ? A drop of water to the ocean." 
 
 " True, my dear Romilly, all perfectly 
 true : but when the cur is determined to 
 bite, he can draw blood as well as a nobler 
 animal, and it is a well known fact that
 
 THE AVALANCHE BUNGALOW. 59 
 
 government throws every obstacle slie can 
 in the path of her inventive offspring ; on 
 the principle, I suppose, of the North 
 American Indians, who half-murder their 
 children in order to find out which are the 
 strongest and best able to survive the treat- 
 ment." 
 
 " Have done!" cried Homer emphatically, 
 as having finished their meal, the four men 
 rose from table, and ensconced themselves 
 comfortably before the little wood fire which 
 their servants had kindled : " I vote that 
 Government, the Indian press, and her 
 majesty's British possessions in the east, 
 are from this moment subjects utterly 
 tabooed, and that Powell gives us his last 
 hunting adventure as a change. Come, 
 Powell ! you owe us something in return 
 for the patience with which poor Newland 
 here, and myself, have been listening to 
 your abuse of our adored adopted country." 
 
 " My last hunting adventure," replied 
 Major Powell, as he lit a huge meerschaum, 
 and commenced, in company with his 
 friends, to fill the room with smoke, iC dates
 
 GO vi';roniquk. 
 
 no further back than yesterday morning, 
 but I daresay it will be not the less accept- 
 able to you for being new. I was strolling 
 out with my gun after nothing particular, 
 when I came upon two tigers hunting 
 samber on their own account : and as I was 
 too far off to get a shot at them, I juj 
 sat down quietly to watch the sport, think- 
 ing that when the tigers were busy with 
 their prey, I might have an opportunity of 
 spoiling their little game. I saw one of 
 the brutes conceal himself in a narrow 
 gorge, which he evidently expected the 
 deer would pass ; whilst the other made a 
 detour so as to get beyond the herd, and 
 drive it towards the hiding-place of his 
 companion." 
 
 " What cunning," observed Major New- 
 land. 
 
 " Oh ! the instinct of these animals is 
 marvellous : I could tell you a dozen 
 stories much more wonderful than this, 
 only Homer asked for the very last. Well, 
 the tiger having succeeded in creeping 
 round the herd, advanced cautiously upon
 
 THE AVALANCHE BUNGALOW. 61 
 
 them : but the samber were too quick for 
 him, and bolted before he was near enough 
 to spring ; and his friend in the gorge was 
 likewise disaj)pointed, for the herd passed 
 far beyond his reach. I then thought it 
 was time for me to appear upon the scene 
 of action, but before I could get within 
 shot of them, the two tigers walked off to- 
 gether into a sholah where it would have 
 been foolhardiness in me to follow them. I 
 never was more put out in my life. But, 
 talking of tigers, did I never tell you of my 
 friend Blast, who succeeded in getting three 
 at one time to his own gun, in the An- 
 nomally Forests ¥' 
 
 " Three tigers all at once ! Powell, you 
 must be joking." 
 
 " I'm in sober earnest, Homer, and you 
 will allow they must have made a very 
 pretty bag. I forget the exact circum- 
 stances of the case, as it happened many 
 years ago ; but I know that as he was 
 walking with a native attendant looking 
 after some of the government timber which 
 was in his charge, he suddenly came upon
 
 02 VERONIQUE. 
 
 three tigers who had just gorged themselves 
 on the carcase of a samba, and were lying 
 under a tree fast asleep. Blast shot two of 
 them as they lay, right and left, and follow- 
 ing up the third for a short distance, put a 
 couple more bullets into him, and finished 
 the business. I know this to be a fact, for 
 my friend was anything but a boaster, and 
 I have heard the story, and seen the three 
 tiger skins, not once but a dozen times." 
 
 " Three tigers at a go !" exclaimed 
 Homer, "well, that beats anything lever 
 heard. Come, Romilly, if you've any idea 
 of emulating that feat, I think it's time we 
 turned in, and took a little rest before- 
 hand," and with many good wishes for the 
 next day's sport, the friends separated for 
 the night.
 
 CHAPTER IY. 
 
 LOST AMONG THE PRECIPICES. 
 
 At an early hour the next morning, the 
 sportsmen were again astir, and it was 
 agreed over the breakfast table that they 
 should hunt in couples, and that as Romer 
 and Romilly were strangers to the hills, 
 the former should be the companion of 
 Major Newland, and the latter, that of 
 Major Powell, for the day. 
 
 " You have got the best of the bargain," 
 said Romer, addressing himself to the 
 aide-de-camp, " for I'd lay a poney, that if 
 any game worth having is shot to-day, it 
 will fall to Powell's gun. He is the luckiest 
 beggar going — in that way." 
 
 " Ah ! you may well add, ' in that way/ 
 Master Romer," said the Major, laughing,
 
 64 V&tONIQUE. 
 
 " for it's the only way it has come to me 
 yet." 
 
 " Now, not a word about the local papers 
 ' an' thou lov'st me, Hal/ said Romer, 
 imploringly. 
 
 " I had no intention of alluding to them, 
 you saucy younker ! but I've no time to 
 argue the subject with you to-day. I don't 
 know what you two gentlemen intend to 
 do, but Captain Romilly and I are going to 
 ride out five miles towards ' Buffaloes' 
 Swamp/ and then send our horses back by 
 the horse-keepers." 
 
 " Perhaps we had better do the same in 
 the opposite direction," said Major New- 
 land : " it's no e:ood tiring ourselves with- 
 out cause." 
 
 " Certainly not ; you will have had plenty 
 of walking before we meet again; and so, 
 Romilly, if you are ready well start at once. 
 Good bye, Romer, good luck to you, and 
 don't think of shewing your face here again 
 without being able to produce a good fat 
 ibex into the bargain !" 
 
 "In which case, say farewell to it for
 
 LOST AMONG THE PRECIPICES. 65 
 
 ever 1" quoth Homer pathetically ; and then 
 the first detachment of the shooting party 
 rode away from the Avalanche Bungalow. 
 
 They had not gone many miles before 
 they met a solitary native woman, walking 
 so fast that she might almost be said to 
 have been running, and evidently anxious 
 to escape observation. She was very lightly 
 clothed, and appeared so unfit to be travel- 
 ling about the hills alone, that Major Powell 
 sent his horsekeeper after her to ask where 
 she had come from and where she was go- 
 ing to. At first she seemed very unwilling 
 to give any information respecting herself; 
 but on being pressed, confessed that she 
 was journeying to Ootacamund, but still 
 declined to say from what place she had 
 started. Major Powell instructed his ser- 
 vant to try and persuade her to stay at the 
 Avalanche Bungalow for the night, where 
 he promised she should have food, and be 
 allowed to go on the first thing in the morn- 
 ing ; but the woman refused all his overtures 
 of assistance with a hurried and frightened 
 air, and seemed only anxious to be per- 
 
 vol. i. 5
 
 60 VKIiONIQUE. 
 
 mitted to continue her journey undisturbed. 
 When she had passed on, and Major 
 Powell's horsekeeper had related the cir- 
 cumstances to his master, Captain Romilly 
 asked him what interest he had in trying 
 to stop the woman's progress. 
 
 " Simply in the cause of humanity," he 
 answered. " It is impossible she can reach 
 Ootacamund on foot before night, and she 
 will probably lie down and die as soon as 
 the darkness falls. These natives cannot 
 stand the cold night air of the hills, espe- 
 cially with such inadequate clothing. But 
 my horsekeeper tells me that she has run 
 away from one of the coffee plantations 
 hereabouts, before she has worked out the 
 advance pay she has received ; and she was 
 afraid lest we should detain her, poor crea- 
 ture, and send her back again." 
 
 " A fugitive slave," exclaimed Romilly. 
 
 " Exactly so — and very likely from a 
 master not much kinder than ' Legree.' 
 But you can have no idea what numbers of 
 coolies die on the hills during the rains from 
 wet and cold. A man I know, not long
 
 LOST AMONG THE PRECIPICES. 67 
 
 ago found nine coolies sitting by the road- 
 side in a pouring shower, who had evidently 
 given in, and made up their minds to die. 
 He gave them all the brandy which was in 
 his flask ; tried to persuade them to move 
 on by every means in his power — even 
 took to thrashing them to force them to 
 exert themselves ; but it was all of no 
 -avail. He was obliged at last to relinquish 
 his benevolent intentions, for fear of being 
 benighted himself; and the nine coolies were 
 subsequently found dead." 
 
 " How incredible ! and after their friend 
 had taken the trouble to thrash them ! Pure 
 ingratitude I call it I" 
 
 " Ah ! you may laugh, but it was the 
 kindest thing he could have done for them. 
 It shews how doggedly determined they 
 must have been to commit suicide, not to 
 have benefited by the hint. But only the 
 other day a friend of mine going to see a 
 beautiful view from a high hill not far from 
 Ootacamund, found on its summit a dead 
 native, who was proved on enquiry to have 
 lost his way, been benighted, and died of 
 
 5—2
 
 GS VERONIQUE. 
 
 cold. An European under sucli circum- 
 stances would have had the sense to keep 
 moving about, but a native has no energy, 
 he succumbs to his fate at once — like the 
 Chinese, who are so used to be carried off 
 by tigers that when they see one coming 
 they quietly sit down, to save him the 
 trouble of pursuing them any further." 
 
 " But I should think it was no joke to 
 be lost upon these hills." 
 
 "No joke at all ; the walking, in parts, 
 is dangerous enough even by daylight ; and 
 at night each footstep becomes a fresh peril. 
 But we must dismount here, Romilly, and 
 send our horses back to the bungalow ; our 
 ' shikarries ' and our guns are all we shall 
 want for the remainder of the day." 
 
 Having dismissed their animals under the 
 charge of their grooms, the two men first 
 took their luncheon, and then, followed by 
 their game-beaters, or "shikarries," toiled 
 up and down some very steep hills for the 
 best part of an hour, after which they sat 
 down on the top of one of the highest, not 
 only to take breath, but to survey the BUT-
 
 LOST AMONG THE PRECIPICES. 69 
 
 rounding landscape, for which purpose Major 
 Powell produced a powerful telescope. 
 Having swept the horizon with it for a few 
 minutes in silence, he handed it to his 
 companion. 
 
 " Look in that direction, Pomilly, to- 
 wards the highest point beyond those two, 
 and you will see something on the move, 
 which, if I mistake not, are a couple of 
 ibex." 
 
 " I see them," exclaimed Itomilly, " I 
 can see them plainly ; but they must be 
 nearly a mile distant. One is feeding, whilst 
 the other stands perfectly motionless on a 
 rock. Let's be after them at once !" and 
 throwing down the telescope, in another 
 second he was on his feet, and replacing the 
 shot-belt and powder-flask which he had 
 loosened from his shoulders. 
 
 " Gently, gently !" said Major Powell, 
 amused at the other's eagerness : "if you 
 go to work in this manner, my dear fellow, 
 you will have the ibex a couple of miles the 
 other way before you have had time to col- 
 lect all your belongings."
 
 70 VKROXFQUE. 
 
 " But it is impossible they can see us at 
 this distance : we can only just make them 
 out, even with the telescope/' 
 
 "And they have a telescope in either 
 eye ; and a scent so fine, that the air tells 
 them of our approach long before we are in 
 sight. If you want to get anywhere within 
 range of them, you must follow my example." 
 
 Whereupon Major Powell commenced to 
 creep in the direction of the ibex, climbing 
 the acclivities on all fours, and cautiously 
 examining each spot before he put down 
 his foot on it, so that their progress w 
 exceedingly tedious ; and Gordon Homilly, 
 who had none of the old sportsman's patient 
 deliberation, soon tired of the pursuit, and 
 wanted to know, in a very audible whisper, 
 whether they couldn't get on a little faster. 
 
 " Hush !" said Major Powell, emphasising 
 the caution with knitted brows ; " you 
 mustn't utter a syllable, Eomilly. or you'll 
 spoil sport. Look there ! the sentry evidently 
 thinks that all is safe, for he has actually 
 commenced to browse near his companion. 
 We must make a wide circuit, to avoid
 
 LOST AMONG THE PRECIPICES. 71 
 
 giving them our wind, and perhaps we may 
 be fortunate enough to get near to them." 
 
 They proceeded as before, with caution, 
 which appeared to Captain Romilly very 
 unnecessary, until they had advanced to 
 within sixty yards of the game, still unper- 
 ceived, when a thoughtless exclamation 
 from the aide-de-camp startled the sentinel 
 ibex, and both the animals darted off as 
 hard as they could go. 
 
 Major Powell fired first at one, and then 
 at the other, but, as they went on, appa- 
 rently unhurt, he concluded that he must 
 have missed them. 
 
 "You lost me that buck, Romilly," lie 
 said, almost testily, to his companion. 
 " What the deuce you meant by holloaing 
 out in that way, when I had just warned 
 you to be quiet, I can't imagine ! We 
 shan't get within shot of anything if you 
 are not more cautious — you can have no 
 idea how sound is carried in this rarefied 
 air — it's of no use our going on unless you 
 can promise to be silent." 
 
 But here Captain Romilly apologised so
 
 72 V^ROXIQUE. 
 
 amply, that the Major was feign to be paci- 
 fied. 
 
 " I'm awfully sorry, Powell ; I am, in- 
 deed : but I touched up my favourite corn 
 on a sharp piece of rock, and it isn't easy 
 to hold one's tongue entirely under such 
 circumstances." 
 
 " Don't say anything more about it, my 
 dear fellow ; I should have remembered 
 that you're new to this sort of work. Now 
 I wonder where the plague those two 
 brutes have hid themselves. I'm sure I 
 put a bullet into one, if not into both of 
 them ; and I think it will be worth our 
 while to follow them up a bit." 
 
 The " shikarries," on being appealed to, 
 said that the deer had run down a very 
 steep hill before them, into a sholah ; but 
 they were both quite certain that neither of 
 them had been hit by the Major Sahib's 
 gun. 
 
 " They may be as sure as they like," re- 
 marked their employer to Captain Romilly, 
 " but I happen to have an opinion of my 
 own upon the subject ; so with your leave,
 
 LOST AMONG THE PRECIPICES. 73 
 
 Pomilly, we'll make our way towards the 
 sholah." 
 
 They began to descend the hill as he 
 spoke, and had not gone many yards before 
 they saw one of the ibex emerge from the 
 other side of the brushwood, walking very 
 slowly, and evidently wounded. 
 
 " That fellow's hit I" exclaimed Major 
 Powell, his tanned face beaming with ex- 
 citement, " and why is the other not with 
 him ? He would never have remained be- 
 hind unless he were dead or badly wounded. 
 Follow up the track at once," he continued, 
 directing the " shikarries" in their native 
 tongue, " and see if you cannot find him." 
 
 Almost as excited as their master bv the 
 sight of the wounded deer, the men now 
 willingly set off in search of his companion, 
 and before they had penetrated the sholah 
 for more than a dozen yards, Powell and 
 Romilly heard them calling out that they 
 were successful. 
 
 " Come on, Romilly," cried the Major, as 
 (regardless of thorns and briars) he pre- 
 pared to plunge into the densely- wooded
 
 74 V&IOXIQUE. 
 
 thicket, "here's an omen of good luck — 
 we shall have the laugh over Newland and 
 Homer yet !" and hurrying to the spot, they 
 found the ibex lying dead on its back, 
 amongst the bushes ; and from its position, 
 they perceived that it must have run to the 
 edge of the sholah, and turned a somer- 
 sault in dying. The difficulty now wa 
 how to get the animal out of the thicket, 
 in order to skin it, for it was a very large 
 and heavy male, and the sportsmen found 
 that with the assistance of their "shikar- 
 ries," they could not even lift it from the 
 ground. 
 
 " I'll tell you what we must do, Eomilly." 
 said the Major, " we must all set to work 
 with our hunting-knives, and cut away the 
 branches, until we have made a path wide 
 enough, through which to drag the brut 
 along to a more open spot. I shouldn't like 
 to lose it, for although I have often killed 
 ibex, I never brought down such a fine one 
 before." 
 
 They all fell to work, and followed his 
 advice, but it took them a long time to ac-
 
 LOST AMONG THE PRECIPICES. 75 
 
 complish, and before they had skinned the 
 ibex, and cut off its head for preservation, 
 it was nearly dark. 
 
 " Good God ! I had no idea it was so 
 late as this !" exclaimed Major Powell, as 
 he lifted up his heated face, streaming with 
 the exertion he had undergone, and sur- 
 veyed the fast increasing gloom ; " what 
 can we have been about to let the time pass 
 so ? Romilly ! we mustn't loiter here 
 another moment ! Neither I nor my ' shi- 
 karries ' are familiar with this particular 
 part of the hills, and if we wait till the 
 night has fallen we may experience some 
 difficulty in finding our way ; that's the 
 worst of the Neilgherries, there is no twi- 
 light here, and if you are not continually 
 consulting your watch, you have the place 
 pitch-dark before you know where you are." 
 
 Captain Romilly and himself took the 
 charge of their own guns as he spoke, and 
 the head and skin of the ibex being carried 
 by the " shikarries," the party commenced 
 as quickly as they could, to reascend the 
 steep, rocky hill before them. But the gen-
 
 76 VERONIQUE. 
 
 tlemen found the rapid and irregular climb- 
 ing so unusual an exertion, ant! the weight 
 of their weapons added so much to their 
 fatigue, that Romilly soon proposed that the 
 ibex skin and head should be left behind 
 them till the morning, when the " shikar- 
 ries " might return and fetch them. 
 
 " They would be devoured, or at least 
 spoiled by jackals in the night," returned 
 Major Powell, " so if we wish to preserve 
 a trophy of our adventure, Romilly, we 
 must struggle on a little longer as we are." 
 
 They toiled on again, jumping over 
 ditches, pushing their way through bushes, 
 and almost tumbling on their noses at every 
 other step they took. 
 
 "Are you sure we are in the right 
 track V said Romilly, panting, " I don't re- 
 member coming across all these bushes in 
 •our .descent ?" 
 
 " Don't question it, man, for Heavens 
 sake," was Major Powell's reply, " only 
 mind your footing, and push on as fast as 
 you can, till we have left these treacherous 
 hills behind us."
 
 LOST AMONG THE PRECIPICES. 77 
 
 By this time the evening had grown so 
 dark that they could not see their hands 
 before them, and Powell could hear the 
 natives behind him grumbling at the turn 
 affairs had taken, and telling one another 
 that they had not the least idea where they 
 were going. The walking, which was bad 
 enough in the day time, had now become 
 quite dangerous ; every moment the sports- 
 men hit their feet against large stones or 
 pieces of loose rock, which bounded from 
 beneath their tread, and fell down unknown 
 depths, where they almost feared that they 
 should follow them, and the " shikarries' 
 constant warning cry of "precipice," 
 sounded terrible in the darkness. 
 
 Major Powell was growing very anxious, 
 but he did not like to communicate his 
 fears to his companion, lest he should unne- 
 cessarily depress his spirits, but kept up a 
 continual jesting instead, on the evil ad- 
 venture which had befallen them, whilst 
 Homilly followed closely on his heels, not 
 nervous, though rather silent, and only 
 occasionally startled by the earnestness of
 
 78 V^RONIQUE. 
 
 his friend's caution that he should be careful 
 where he trod. 
 
 At last, however, the "shikarries," having 
 collected sufficient dry wood as they walked, 
 lighted a small fire, from which each of the 
 four men selected the largest brands to serve 
 for torches, and by the light they afforded 
 them, fancying they were not quite in the 
 right track for the spot from which they had 
 started, they altered their course and turned 
 in another direction. 
 
 The air had now become bitterly cold, 
 which, added to the darkness, made the 
 travelling doubly disagreeable, and Gordon 
 Komilly, whose hands and feet were be- 
 coming quite numbed, felt sorry when his 
 brand had burned itself out, and he was 
 deprived of the warmth which it afforded 
 him. But, by this time they had arrived 
 at a large sholah, in which the " shikar- 
 ries" found a quantity of dry bamboos. 
 
 " These are just what we want !" ex- 
 claimed Major Powell, "now we shall get 
 on famously ; the men will make some 
 first-rate torches by tying a bundle of
 
 LOST AMONG THE PKECIPICES. 79 
 
 bamboos together, which will light us from 
 here to the bungalow with ease." 
 
 He spoke cheerfully, although he did not 
 feel so, and he and Romilly busied them- 
 selves in helping the natives to bind the 
 bamboos together, which, when lighted, 
 really produced a very fine effect ; and the 
 unexpected discovery put the aide-de-camp 
 in such good spirits that, torch in hand, he 
 commenced to cut some boyish capers 
 amongst the brushwood, thereby endanger- 
 ing the safety of the whole. 
 
 " Take care, take care," called out the 
 Major. " At this season of the year the 
 sholahs are like tinder, and one spark will 
 set the whole of it alight." 
 
 The words were no sooner out of his 
 mouth, than Captain Romilly 's torch, being 
 carried aslant, came in contact with an un- 
 usually dry bush, and in a shorter time 
 than it takes to relate, the thicket was on 
 fire, and the four men had to run out of it 
 as quickly as they could. They had hardly 
 left it sufficiently behind them for safety, 
 before the entire brushwood became a mass
 
 80 V^RONIQUE. 
 
 of flames, and there was a splendid bonfire, 
 the dry wood crackling with successive 
 sharp reports like that of musketry, and 
 the flames rising high above the sholah into 
 the night air. 
 
 " That was a sharp retreat," said Major 
 Powell, laughing, as they stood and watched 
 the burning brushwood. " The torch you've 
 lighted for us, Eomilly, ought to be bright 
 enough to guide us home." 
 
 They stood and watched the blazing 
 sholah until the fury of the fire was ex- 
 hausted, and the burnt and blackened 
 bushes had fallen, one by one, into the 
 general melee, and left nothing behind them 
 but a heap of calcined ashes. Then they 
 turned away to remember, with fresh per- 
 turbation, that they were miles from the 
 Avalanche Bungalow, and that the rapidity 
 with which they had been compelled to quit 
 the burning thicket had left them still 
 more at a loss to imagine to which point 
 of the compass they might be steering. 
 
 " There is no help for it, Eomilly I" id 
 the Major, without making any further
 
 LOST AMONG THE PRECIPICES. 81 
 
 attempt to conceal his alarm. " We have got 
 into a terrible scrape, and the only thing left 
 for us to do is to keep moving as cautiously 
 as we can in one direction, wherever it may 
 lead us, for there is no possibility of de- 
 termining the right one. We may, by good 
 chance, hit on our own road ; but if we 
 don't, we must walk till daylight, for it will 
 never do to sit down or stand still in the 
 terrible cold of this night air." 
 
 The prospect was not a pleasant one ; 
 but Englishmen are not given to lamenting 
 in the face of real danger, and natives are 
 very patient under misfortune, particularly 
 when they have a good example before 
 them ; so that the little party plodded on 
 almost cheerfully, and tried to make as light 
 as they could of the disagreeable position 
 in which they found themselves. But when 
 they had almost given up hope of reaching 
 any shelter before morning, and resigned 
 themselves to the idea of walking in single 
 file until daylight ; when Major Powells 
 feet were so blistered that he could hardly 
 take a step without pain, and Captain 
 
 VOL. I. 6
 
 82 VERONIQUE. 
 
 Romilly's were so numbed with the cold, 
 that he scarcely felt what he was treading 
 on, the older and more experienced of their 
 " shikarries ' declared that he heard some- 
 thing, and entreated them to halt. Only 
 too thankful to admit a hope of succour, 
 they obeyed him gladly, and the man, after 
 having listened steadfastly for a short time 
 longer, gave a prolonged " hilloo," which, 
 after a moment's pause, was answered from 
 above them. 
 
 " Was that a voice, or was it echo ?" 
 asked Captain Komilly, doubtfully. 
 
 " A voice, my dear fellow ! Don't you 
 see that dull light coming over the hill 
 towards us ? We have most likely fallen 
 in with some herdsman seeking his cattle, 
 who will be able to direct us into the right 
 path. Thank God for it ! for I had begun 
 to fear we had not seen the worst of our 
 night's adventure." 
 
 " What the devil are these ?" exclaimed 
 Romilly, as two huge heads, with long, 
 twisted horns and glaring eyes, suddenly 
 appeared across their path, and seemed
 
 LOST AMONG THE PRECIPICES. 83 
 
 anxious to dispute the narrow way with 
 them. 
 
 " Only buffaloes, Romilly ; but take care 
 they don't push you over the edge. They 
 probably belong to the man who answered 
 us just now. Yes ! see, here he is I" 
 
 And as Major Powell spoke, a figure bear- 
 ing a horn lantern came up with the shooting 
 party, and carelessly thrusting his cattle to 
 one side, placed himself in front of the 
 sportsmen. As he swung his lantern over 
 the group, the gentlemen could see that he 
 was a tall athletic young native ; but dif- 
 fering from his race in ordinary by wearing 
 his hair cut like an European's, and being 
 dressed in corduroy trousers, a flannel 
 shirt, thrown open from his broad, well- 
 covered chest, and a soft felt hat, which had 
 attained no shape in particular. In one 
 hand he bore a thick twisted staff, with 
 the other he held the handle of his lantern, 
 and as the light fell on his face, it shewed 
 an honest kindly countenance, the smile on 
 which disclosed a set of dazzling teeth. 
 Major Powell began explaining their plight 
 
 6—2
 
 84 VERONIQUE. 
 
 to him in Hindustani, though rather doubt- 
 ful whether the herdsman would be able to 
 understand him through that language ; 
 but when he answered, to their infinite 
 surprise, he spoke in perfect English. 
 
 " From ' Buffaloes' Swamp ' to the Ava- 
 lanche Bungalow ? Why, gentlemen, you 
 are miles out of your way ! You have been 
 walking backwards all this time, and are 
 much nearer Ootacamund than you are to 
 the bungalow. It would take you hours to 
 get there, if you could do it at all to-night, 
 which I very much doubt." 
 
 " But what on earth are we to do, then V 
 demanded Major Powell, his surprise at the 
 herdsman's address swallowed up in renewed 
 anxiety, " we can't remain on the hills till 
 morning, we shall be frozen to death !" 
 
 " If you will take such shelter as we 
 can give you, sir, Pere Joseph will make 
 you heartily welcome to it ! Our cabin is 
 not twenty yards further on, and there you 
 will obtain rest, if nothing else, till you can 
 pursue your way." 
 
 " We shall be but too glad to accept your
 
 LOST AMONG THE PRECIPICES. 85 
 
 offer !" replied the Major and Captain 
 Romilly, who felt at that moment as though 
 they would be thankful to be quartered 
 with the buffaloes, and filled with curiosity 
 to learn who their new acquaintance might 
 be ; their spirits raised by the unexpected 
 relief which had come to them, they followed 
 closely on the young herdsman's heels, 
 whilst he further excited their surprise by 
 apostrophising his milch buffaloes as " Ce- 
 lestine," and " Philomele," and telling them 
 to " Allez done !" and " prenez garde !" as 
 they stumbled over the precipitous paths 
 which led to the abode of Pere Joseph.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PERE JOSEPH. 
 
 After the lapse of a few minutes, the 
 sportsmen felt that the path beneath their 
 feet had become wider and more trodden 
 down, and Celestine and Philomele having 
 suddenly dived into a rough shed which 
 appeared upon the right, their conductor 
 held up his lantern to show them the en- 
 trance to a sloping garden, planted on the 
 side of the hill, and surrounded by stout 
 palisades ; on traversing which they came 
 upon a small wooden-built house, having a 
 verandah in front of it, paved with brick 
 and covered with creepers. They had 
 scarcely entered within these precincts, be- 
 fore a light was shown at the open door, 
 and an old man appeared on the threshold, 
 and called out —
 
 PERE JOSEPH. 87 
 
 " C'est toil riest-ce pas mm Jils? comme 
 tu viens tarcl." To which David replied — 
 
 " Old! mon p&re 9 cest moi, et je ne suis 
 pas seitl." And then, changing his language, 
 continued : " These gentlemen have lost 
 their way on the hills, Pere Joseph, and I 
 have brought them home until the morning. 
 They are half-perished with the cold, and 
 have had nothing to eat since noon. It is 
 most fortunate that I met them. Had the 
 cows not strayed beyond their usual ground 
 to-night, I should not have come across 
 Monsieur and his friend." 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! is it possible I" exclaimed 
 the old man, as he peered scrutinisingly at 
 the strangers. " Enter, gentlemen, enter, 
 I pray you ; you are welcome to everything 
 that we can give you. And you have your 
 servants with you also," observing the 
 " shikarries ' in the background. " How 
 is it that they permitted you to lose your 
 way { 
 
 " It was not their fault," said Major 
 Powell, as with Captain Romilly he stepped 
 into the sanded sitting-room. "We had
 
 88 VERONIQUE. 
 
 brought down an ibex, which proved too 
 heavy for us to carry ; and it took so long 
 to skin the animal that the night had fallen 
 almost before we were aware of it." 
 
 " And you encountered my son as he 
 brought home his straying buffaloes. Well, 
 the blessed Virgin is good, and watches over 
 the safety of all her children. David, take 
 the 'shikariies' round to the ' go-downs/ 
 and see that their wants are attended to ; 
 and you, sirs, please to be seated, and make 
 yourselves at home." 
 
 They did so, surprised meanwhile to hear 
 a man of European blood claiming a native 
 for his son, and curious to learn the truth of 
 the connection between them. 
 
 The room in which they found themselves 
 was poorly, but very comfortably furnished, 
 and showed none of those traces of abject 
 poverty which had distinguished the mis- 
 sionary's home the night before. The 
 sanded floor was boarded and beautifully 
 clean, the chairs and tables were substan- 
 tial, and curtains shut out the draughts 
 from the diamond-paned windows. In a
 
 PERE JOSEPH. 89 
 
 corner of the room was a large old-fashioned 
 eight-day clock ; above the mantleshelf 
 hung a crucifix, carved in wood ; and 
 against the wall, where a staircase led to 
 the upper apartments, was a benitier of holy 
 water, surmounted by a little figure of the 
 Virgin and a natural branch of yew. From 
 these symbols of the Roman Catholic faith, 
 the strangers turned to look at their host 
 in the full light of the lamp, and were not 
 surprised to perceive that he was evidently 
 a priest of the same persuasion ; for though, 
 in the privacy of his own fireside, he had 
 cast aside his official robe, and supplied its 
 place by a loose linen blouse, the robe itself 
 was hanging on a nail just behind his arm- 
 chair ; and the black skull-cap which he 
 wore on his head was not sufficient to con- 
 ceal his shaven tonsure. Meeting the eyes 
 of his visitors, Pere Joseph smiled and said : 
 "My house, sirs, is doubtless very dif- 
 ferent to what you have been accustomed ; 
 but, rudely built as it is, you will find it 
 warmer than the open air. It is but a 
 'shanty/ as we should call it in Ireland, but it
 
 90 V&IONIQUE. 
 
 has sheltered my head now for many a long 
 year, and will do so, I expect, till it needs 
 a roof no longer." 
 
 " Have you been in Ireland f exclaimed 
 Gordon Bomilly with interest. " I am of 
 that country myself." 
 
 " Indeed, sir ! Yes, I know it well, for 
 I was stationed ten years in Ireland before 
 I was sent out to India." 
 
 " But you are not English !" 
 
 Pere Joseph smiled knowingly. He was 
 a stout rubicund-faced man, with a roguish 
 expression in his eye, particularly apparent 
 when he felt amused. 
 
 " No, sir ; by birth I am a Belgian, 
 having been born in the town of Beve ; but 
 I have not seen my native count ly since I 
 was twenty-five years old ; and it is now 
 thirty since I came out to India, and twenty 
 since I was sent to do duty on the hills. 
 Ah ! well, there was a time when I little 
 thought I should end my days up here ; 
 but it might have been worse perhaps, so I 
 must not complain." 
 
 " Have you been settled here so long as
 
 il 
 
 PERE JOSEPH. 91 
 
 that ?" said Major Powell, who, with Cap- 
 tain Romilly, was busied in drawing the 
 charges from his gun, "I wonder I have 
 never come across your house before.- How 
 far are you from the cantonment V 
 " Five miles, sir." 
 That is along way to walk in and out." 
 We don't think much of five miles," re- 
 plied Pere Joseph, " but neither have we 
 much need of the cantonment. My little 
 chapel is close by, as you will see in the 
 morning, and my people are scattered here 
 and there upon the hills around us. They 
 are but a handful, sir — scarcely worth say- 
 ing the masses for ; any preacher would have 
 done for them ; but what can a man do 
 when he is under orders ?" and here Pere 
 Joseph shrugged his shoulders, and heaved 
 a weighty sigh of discontent. IC But I must 
 keep you fasting no longer, gentleman. You 
 must accept such supper as we can offer 
 you, and believe it would be better if we 
 had it." 
 
 With a bow which would not have dis- 
 graced a courtier, the priest rose from his
 
 92 VKKONIQUE. 
 
 chair as he spoke, and walking to the foot 
 of the staircase, rapped twice with his stick. 
 and called Veronique. 
 
 " That's not a bad idea of the old gentle- 
 man's/' whispered Komilly to Major Powell. 
 " I'm so hungry that I feel as though I 
 should commence on him if he kept us 
 waiting much longer." 
 
 " We're in for a regular adventure," w; 
 the Major's reply. " I wonder what on 
 earth Newland and Romer will imagine has 
 become of us." 
 
 " We're deuced lucky to have got here, 
 I think," said Captain Romilly ; " the priest 
 seems a right jolly old fellow ! I like him 
 exceedingly." 
 
 Meanwhile, the summons of Pere Joseph 
 having produced no effect, he called again : 
 
 " Veronique, mon infant I oh es tu V* 
 
 To which a female voice replied — a voice 
 which made Gordon Pomilly turn his head 
 to listen : 
 
 "Me void, mon p&re, <["<■ veux tu T 
 
 "Descends, desa nds vite! roici des £ train- 
 (jers qui rcclanicnt nos secours"
 
 PERE JOSEPH. 93 
 
 As Pere Joseph uttered these words, he 
 turned and apologised to his guests. 
 
 " You will pardon my speaking French, 
 gentlemen ; but we are so used to do it 
 amongst ourselves, that it seems difficult to 
 express our meaning in any other language." 
 
 " I should not have guessed that you ex- 
 perienced any difficulty in talking English," 
 said Gordon Romilly ; " you speak it a great 
 deal better than I do." 
 
 " Do you think so V was the reply. 
 " For myself, I find that I have never ac- 
 quired sufficient ease and fluency in the 
 English language ; but my children speak it 
 better than I do, although I taught it to 
 them." 
 
 " How many children have you V en- 
 quired Powell brusquely. 
 
 "You do not suppose I speak of my chil- 
 dren after the flesh, sir," said Pere Joseph 
 smiling. " I am a Catholic priest. But 
 those whom I call by that name are, the 
 young man David, who conducted you 
 hither, and whom I have reared from an 
 infant, and my niece Veronique, my sisters
 
 94 VERONIQUE. 
 
 orphan child, who has also lived under my 
 roof since she was two years old. And here 
 she is, gentlemen, to speak for herself," 
 
 The door, at the heading of the staircase, 
 was flung open impetuously as he spoke, 
 and a young girl appeared upon the top- 
 most step, and stood still for a minute re- 
 garding the strangers. She was slight and 
 graceful in figure, with large blue eyes set 
 in a fair oval face, and long black hair 
 hanging in two plaited tails either side her 
 head. In fact, she was the same girl who 
 had wept over the missionary's child the 
 day before, and whose general appearance 
 had so impressed the usually mdifferent 
 Captain Eomilly as to betray him into won- 
 dering who she was, and where she could 
 have come from. She was clad on this oc- 
 casion in a short blue petticoat, and a black 
 stuff jacket, and round her throat was loosely 
 knotted a white silk handkerchief, so loosely 
 that it fell beneath a red rose which was 
 carelessly pinned into her bosom. 
 
 As Gordon Romilly looked up from the 
 cleaning of his gun and recognised her, he
 
 PERE JOSEPH. 95 
 
 would have given vent to an exclamation 
 of surprise, had not she forestalled him, by 
 first starting backwards to make a little 
 gesture of astonishment with her hands, and 
 then flying down the stairs to take up her 
 stand in front of him. 
 
 " Tiens ! they are the same gentle- 
 men whom I met yesterday ; ah, no ! not 
 both, but one. You are the same, are you 
 not V appealing to Gordon Romilly, " I 
 told Pere Joseph I should know you any- 
 where by your belle chevelure. Mon <pere" 
 she added, turning to the priest, "this is 
 the monsieur who helped me to carry la 
 jpauvre petite on to her bed. Ah, what a 
 sad sight, and what a terrible ! Could you 
 drive it from your eyes all the night long V 9 
 
 " Hardly," he replied, as he saw her 
 blue eyes glisten with tears ; "do you know 
 the family very well ?" 
 
 "No, Monsieur ! they are not my intimes, 
 but I have often passed that way and made 
 friends with the little children ; and when 
 they told me what had happened, what 
 could I do but go ? And the poor mother !
 
 96 veronique. 
 
 Ah, it was a scene to frighten one !" brush- 
 ing her hand across her eyes as she spoke. 
 
 " Tais-toi, Veronique ! I will hear no 
 more of the death of that poor little 
 heretic!" cried her uncle; "thou hast spoken 
 of nothing else all day, and if thou canst 
 not change thy subject, thou wilt give me 
 what these gentlemen here would call 
 1 the blue devils/ 
 
 " Les diables hleus ! quest ce que cela 
 veut dire f" exclaimed Veronique, laughing 
 through her tears. 
 
 " Keep thy questions till after supper/' 
 replied Pere Joseph. " These gentlemen 
 have been fasting since noon, having lost 
 their way on the hills, and are ready for 
 whatever thou canst give them. So be 
 quick !" 
 
 " Oh, are you hungry?" she said earnestly, 
 still addressing herself to Captain Romilly, 
 "we have potage, Monsieur, and curry, and 
 rice, and cheese, and perhaps a salad, 
 and — " 
 
 " Get thee gone and make it ready !" ex- 
 claimed the old priest in a serio-comic tone,
 
 PERE JOSErH. 97 
 
 and tlien as the girl flew into the back of 
 the house, calling " David" authoritatively 
 as she went, he continued : "a woman's 
 tongue is the only horse that never tires. 
 They would feed you with words, lodge you 
 with words, and clothe you with words : 
 and words are things that a man likes only 
 when he is well fed, well lodged, and well 
 clothed." 
 
 " It would take a great deal of starvation 
 to make one quarrel with such words as 
 your niece's," replied Gordon Eomilly : and 
 then Major Powell asked him where he had 
 met the girl before, and rather unwillingly, 
 and with very little detail, he related their 
 adventure of the previous day. 
 
 Much sooner than the Englishmen ex- 
 pected it, the supper made its appearance, 
 by the hands of David and Veronique. A 
 smoking bowl of vegetable soup, a dish of 
 curry and rice, salad, cheese, and bread, 
 formed a repast on which the hungry guests 
 fell with appetites that charmed their hos- 
 pitable entertainers ; but it was some time 
 before Captain Romilly could persuade 
 
 VOL. I. 7
 
 98 V^ROXIQUE. 
 
 Veronique, who was hovering about hi 
 chair, to take a seat at all, and when she 
 did so, she shyly rejected the one which he 
 had set beside his own, and took up her 
 station on a little stool by the knee of her 
 uncle. But the young man David shewed 
 no such bashfulness ; he was a wonderfully 
 fine specimen for a native, having a figure 
 as muscular and well-built as that of an 
 European, and possessing with it the 
 regular features and singularly fine eyes of 
 the Hindoos. His complexion was very 
 dark, but his manners were as easy and un- 
 concerned as those of the priest and his 
 niece, whom he had evidently been brought 
 up to consider his equals. He conversed 
 as familiarly with the gentlemen, even 
 more so than they had done, and had it not 
 been that his eyes followed every movement 
 of Veronique with ill-concealed admiration 
 (a circumstance which Gordon Romilly was 
 quick to discover, and inwardly resent), it 
 might have been said that he treated the 
 girl as much like a sister, as the priest 
 treated him like a son. As soon as the
 
 PERE JOSEPH. 99 
 
 meal was concluded, David, by order of 
 Pere Joseph, placed a large stone bottle 
 of whisky on the table ; and Veronique 
 having produced glasses and hot water, the 
 priest begged his visitors would make them- 
 selves comfortable, and set them the ex- 
 ample himself, by lighting his pipe, a pro- 
 ceeding in which he was speedily imitated 
 by Major Powell and David. 
 
 Only Captain Pomilly professed to be 
 disposed for neither tobacco nor whisky and 
 water, and under cover of the general dissi- 
 pation, managed to approach nearer to 
 Veronique, and carry on a bantering con- 
 versation with her, in a voice so low that 
 the others could not catch the meaning of 
 his words. He commenced by addressing 
 her in French, and so delighted was she to 
 find that he could converse in her favourite 
 language (although he spoke it very indif- 
 ferently), that her shyness melted away, 
 and she kept on answering his questions, 
 now with a light laugh at his mistakes ; 
 and then, in a tone of incredulity at the 
 fervour of his compliments — until, indeed, 
 
 7—2
 
 100 VERONIQUE. 
 
 the parley was made public by her exclaim- 
 ing, in a voice of pleasure — 
 
 " JScoute, mon pere! Monsieur a de- 
 
 couvert queje ne suis pas Beige" 
 
 " Et comment?' demanded the priest, 
 smiling. 
 
 " En regardant mes yeux — by my eyes !" 
 she added, perceiving the comprehension 
 was not general, for Major Powell did not 
 understand a word of French. " Monsieur 
 says that my eyes are English, and would 
 betray me did I never speak a word of that 
 language." 
 
 " But Monsieur is mistaken," said her 
 uncle, smiling ; " thine eyes are Irish, Vero- 
 nique ; there is not a drop of English blood 
 in thy veins. " 
 
 " Is Mademoiselle Irish ?" demanded 
 Captain Romilly, " I could have sworn it, 
 without asking." 
 
 " Her father was," replied Pere Joseph. 
 " Her father was a brave good man, an Irish 
 soldier named Thaddeus Moore, who fell 
 fighting for his country in the Affghanistan 
 war ; and left his Irish eyes to his daughter,
 
 PERE JOSEPH. 101 
 
 the only things he had to leave her, le pauvre 
 homme ! Thy father's eyes were the same 
 as thine, Veronique — blue and saucy : there 
 is not a thing in thee to remind me of thy 
 mother, my poor Justine, except it be thy 
 useless hands and feet." 
 
 Here the girl put out her small hands 
 and feet, regarding them with comical com- 
 passion, and her blue eyes looked saucy 
 enough as she pinched Pere Joseph on the 
 side of his cheek, and asked him what he 
 would do for his breakfast and his dinner 
 and his supper, if those "useless' mem- 
 bers were not at his beck and call. As 
 Veronique carried on this little badinage 
 with her uncle, Gordon Romilly looked at 
 her animated face with unfeigned admira- 
 tion. She was like an April day, easily 
 moved to tears or laughter, and he saw 
 that she had inherited the Irish character 
 with the Irish face. 
 
 Major Powell, under the combined in- 
 fluences of whisky and fatigue, had now 
 fallen fast asleep in his chair, and with his 
 limbs stretched out and his head well
 
 102 \ KKONIQUE. 
 
 back, was making " night hideous ' with 
 his snores. 
 
 " It is time that we were all in bed," 
 observed the priest, as a louder snort than 
 usual from the slumbering Major surprised 
 the little party into a laugh. " These 
 gentlemen must be in need of rest. Shew 
 the Captain to his room, man enfant, and 
 the other Monsieur must take the little 
 cabinet on this floor. David and I will 
 sleep together to-night." 
 
 No expostulation on the part of his guest 
 being able to shake this hospitable deter- 
 mination of the priest, Captain Romilly 
 consented to be shown to his room, and 
 attended by his pretty handmaid, rose to 
 say good-night. As Veronique, with the 
 lighted candle in her hand, stepped on the 
 stairs, she dipped her finger in the beni- 
 tier, and crossed herself, murmuring some 
 words of prayer ; and Captain Romilly, 
 hardly knowing why, but certainly more for 
 curiosity than any other feeling, followed 
 her example, so far as touching the holy 
 water was concerned. He thought that
 
 PERE JOSEPH. 103 
 
 his action was unnoticed, but Veronique 
 perceived it readily, and turning on the 
 staircase, called to her uncle in a tone of 
 real excitement — 
 
 " Mon pere, mon pere, il est de notre 
 religion: vois clone comme il prend Veau 
 benite." 
 
 " I rejoice to hear it, my son I" said the 
 old priest, in a gratified voice. " I hoped 
 it might be so, but almost feared to ask. 
 The Holy Catholic is the Irishman's true 
 faith." 
 
 " C'est vrai, nest-cepas ?" said Veronique, 
 appealingly. 
 
 "Mais oui — -je suis Chretien" replied 
 Captain Romilfy, dubiously. 
 
 The moment he had uttered the words, 
 he knew that he had unintentionally told a 
 falsehood. He had meant to tell the girl 
 that he was as much a Christian as herself, 
 and that the outward distinctions of their 
 faith signified nothing ; but his French was 
 not equal to the emergency, he stopped 
 short because words failed him, and when 
 he saw the universal gratification he had
 
 104 VERONIQUE. 
 
 given by tlie confession of what he was not, 
 he had not the moral courage to retract his 
 avowal, and explain in English the mistake 
 into which they had been led. And when 
 he found himself in the passage above, alone 
 with Veronique, and she turned her blue 
 eyes, now softened by feeling, upon him, 
 and whispered : " J' etais sure que vous n'eti i 
 pas her&tique" he felt still less capable of 
 undeceiving her. And, after all, he argued 
 to himself, it mattered little. His night's 
 shelter over, he should probably never see 
 the inmates of the priest's cottage again ; or 
 if he did, it would be under circumstanc 
 of far less familiarity, and if it pleased 
 them to consider him a Roruan Catholic 
 like themselves, the innocent delusion could 
 not possibly hurt anyone. 
 
 The bed-room into which Veronique now 
 ushered him was spotlessly clean, and lie 
 lay down between the sheets with an 
 assured conviction that he should not open 
 his eyes again until daylight. But the 
 varied incidents of the past day prolong) 
 their influence through his sleep, and some
 
 PERE JOSEPH. 105 
 
 little time after he had retired to rest, he 
 was suddenly roused from a night-mare 
 dream of falling over precipices, and being 
 whirled round and round in unfathomable 
 darkness, by a sharp grating noise (like the 
 bark of a mammoth watch-dog with a sore 
 throat), which sounded close against his 
 window panes, and, as it seemed to him, 
 almost in his ears. Startled from a deep 
 sleep, and quite unable to conceive whence 
 the sound proceeded, Captain Komilly sat 
 up in his bed, and shouted the first name 
 that came into his mind. 
 
 " Powell ! Powell I" he called out, with- 
 out having the slightest notion whether his 
 friend were sleeping above, below him, or 
 at his side. No answer, however, was ex- 
 tracted from the Major, who was then 
 blissfully unconscious of all externa] things ; 
 but after a few moments' delay, a slight 
 rustle was heard in the passage, and a timid 
 knock sounded on the bedroom door. 
 
 " Monsieur, Monsieur, is anything the 
 matter ? Did you call V 
 
 The voice was Veronique's, and she had
 
 106 VERONIQUE. 
 
 opened a little bit of the bedroom door, 
 that he might hear it more plainly. She 
 spoke so quietly, and so entirely without 
 alarm, that Gordon Romilly only remem- 
 bered that he had heard a strange noise, 
 and called out, like a great frightened 
 schoolboy, and felt very much ashamed of 
 himself. 
 
 " It is nothing," he stammered, " I am 
 so sorry I disturbed you, Mademoiselle. 
 But I have had bad dreams, and when I 
 woke some animal made a noise close to my 
 window, and startled me !" 
 
 " I daresay it was the samber barking," 
 she answered, cheerfully, " they try to get 
 into the garden at night, Monsieur, and 
 steal the vegetables ; but we have a stout 
 paling, and they cannot possibly break 
 through it. In a wooden house like this, 
 one hears everything so plainly." 
 
 " I am really very sorry," apologised 
 Romilly. " I ought to have known better, 
 but—" 
 
 "It is nothing, Monsieur. I hope you 
 will not be waked again ; but if you want
 
 PERE JOSEPH. 107 
 
 me or David, you have but to call : Mais 
 nayez pas peur : le bon Dieu qui nous 
 protege ne dort jamais" With which 
 words the door quietly closed again, and 
 she was gone.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ON THE TRACK OF THE TIGER. 
 
 No further disturbance interrupted the 
 tranquillity of Captain Romilly's dreams, 
 and he slept till so late an hour on the 
 following morning, that when he descended 
 to the lower room, Major Powell and David 
 w^ere already pacing the little garden 
 together, and Veronique was standing in 
 the bricked verandah, watching their pro- 
 ceedings and shading her eyes with her 
 hand from the brightness of the early sun. 
 
 " Bon jour, Mademoiselle." 
 
 The girl started and coloured. 
 
 " Bon jour, Monsieur ; look there !" and 
 she pointed to a deep print in the garden 
 mould before them, as large and as round 
 as a small dinner-plate.
 
 ON THE TRACK OF THE TIGER. 109 
 
 " And what of that V asked Gordon Ro- 
 milly, peering at the mark with eyes that 
 saw nothing beyond itself. 
 
 "Why, Monsieur, it is the track of a 
 tiger ! you were right about the noise which 
 disturbed your rest last night, and had we 
 not all been very sound asleep we must 
 have heard it too. No wonder the poor 
 samber barked, and the cows must have 
 been in terror also. The tiger's footprints 
 are all round their shed, and he has walked 
 the garden two or three times over. That 
 is where he must have climbed over, Mon- 
 sieur/' pointing to a part of the palisades 
 beneath which the earth and flowers had 
 been much disturbed, " and he has broken 
 my favourite rose-tree in his spring — the 
 clumsy brute !" 
 
 " By Jove ! you don't mean to say so 1" 
 exclaimed Captain Romilly, who felt quite 
 uncomfortable on hearing in what close 
 quarters he had been to the " monarch of 
 the jungle." " It's very dangerous, you 
 know, he might have got in at any of the 
 windows, if he had chosen."
 
 110 VKRONIQUE. 
 
 Vcronique laughed, first turning her blue 
 eyes upon him to make sure that he was in 
 earnest. 
 
 " Oh ! Monsieur, they never choose to 
 attack, the poor creatures, unless they are 
 very hungry. This one must have had his 
 dinner, David says, or he would not have 
 smelled round the cow shed without try- 
 ing to enter it. David I" she continued, 
 raising her voice, "Monsieur est descendu." 
 
 At this the young native looked up, 
 and raised his cap to E-omilly, like a well- 
 bred Englishman, and the Major quitted 
 his side to approach that of his friend. 
 
 " Romilly," he said, pointing to the 
 track of the tiger, " I expect this is the 
 same gentleman who carried off the cow 
 from the Avalanche Bungalow the night 
 before last, and who has probably been 
 sleeping off his debauch in some sholah 
 ever since. I am going to stroll a little 
 way farther, with David and the shikarries, 
 to see if the trail is easily followed, for if so 
 we must carry back the news to rejoice New- 
 land's heart. Will you come with us ?"
 
 ON THE TRACK OF THE TIGER. Ill 
 
 " Thank you ; no, I think I would rather 
 stay here," replied Romilly, his handsome 
 eyes still half closed from the effects of his 
 long slumber, " but when you've found him, 
 Powell, if you'll let me know, I shall be 
 charmed to make one of the party !" 
 
 " Indeed I shall do no such thing," 
 laughed the Major, " since you won't take 
 the trouble to look for him, yourself! 
 You'd like your friends to do all the work, 
 I suppose, and send for you just as the fun 
 is going to begin !" 
 
 " Exactly, Major ! you've hit it off to a 
 nicety," said the A.D.C., " that's just what 
 I should like." 
 
 " Well, you're honest at all events," re- 
 plied Powell, " and so am I, in saying you 
 won't get it from me. Come, David, if we 
 are to do anything before breakfast, we 
 must be off 1" and in another minute the 
 men had clambered over the fence together, 
 and were stretching their legs in the sun- 
 shine across the breezy, pathless hills. 
 
 Captain Romilly stayed behind, in the 
 verandah, and surveyed the scene around
 
 112 VIORONIQUE. 
 
 him. The dwelling of the Catholic priest, 
 although like dozens of others on the Neil- 
 gherries, was so picturesquely situated and 
 surrounded, as to attract his eye at once. 
 The house itself, which was thatched and 
 painted white, would have appeared com- 
 mon-place, had it not been for the natural 
 beauties which adorned it, but its roof and 
 sides were so clothed and wrapped about 
 with creepers that scarcely a square foot of 
 the building materials was left visible. 
 Long, wreathing branches of honeysuckle 
 and clematis hung from the top of the 
 verandah, and trailed upon the shoulders of 
 the girl who stood beneath them, and 
 bushes of red and scarlet geranium set in 
 the bed beside it, their gorgeous blossoms 
 heavy with the morning moisture, reached 
 higher than Captain Romilly's knee. 
 
 A fuchsia, covered with its crimson and 
 purple bells, and a sweet-scented verbena, 
 twined together above the porch, both 
 plants having attained the height of six 
 or eight feet, a growth which appeared 
 almost incredible in Romilly's English eyes.
 
 ON THE TRACK OF THE TIGER. 113 
 
 The long, narrow garden, which sloped 
 away precipitately in front, was chiefly 
 dedicated to the culture of vegetables, but 
 all round the inside of the palisades had 
 been set a hedge of various coloured roses, 
 which were now in full blossom of red, and 
 pink, and damask, and yellow, and white ; 
 and about which the little inhabitants of 
 the beehives, placed in a sheltered nook at 
 the corner of the enclosure, were wonder- 
 fully busy. 
 
 To the right of the dwelling stood the 
 tiny Roman Catholic chapel, to which Pere 
 Joseph had made allusion the night before, 
 but which would never have been recog- 
 nised as such had it not been for the wooden 
 cross surmounting its humble entrance. 
 Far away as the eye could reach, all round 
 the cottage, rising one above the other, 
 stretched the verdant, billowy hills ; with 
 the exception of a couple of stacks of 
 chimneys, just visible in the distance, the 
 priest's house seemed to stand utterly alone, 
 and as Gordon Romilly gazed about him, 
 
 VOL. I. 8
 
 114 VEROXIQUE. 
 
 he thought he had never seen more isolated 
 an abode. 
 
 " Monsieur will not fast any longer !" 
 said the mellow voice of Veronique, at his 
 side ; and there she was with a cup of 
 chocolate in one hand, and a plate of 
 biscuits in the other, beseeching with her 
 eyes, that the sultan would sit down and 
 refresh himself. 
 
 " Many thanks, Mademoiselle ! I am 
 sure I am infinitely obliged to you, but are 
 you not going to take any yourself V 
 
 " I had mine, with the others, two hours 
 ago," she answered, "but Monsieur slept 
 late, and now, who is to know at what time 
 they will return for their breakfast." 
 
 " Is your uncle not at home, then f 
 
 "Pere Joseph was called out to a sick 
 person at four o'clock this morning, and he 
 is so good he never delays to go — for the 
 same reason, though, I hope he may be back 
 the sooner ! Oh ! he is so good — so good ! 
 There is not a man on earth who is so good 
 as Pere Joseph." 
 
 She uttered this eulogium with clasped
 
 ON THE TRACK OF THE TIGER. 115 
 
 hands and such evident faith, that Gordon 
 Romilly, as he drank his chocolate, thought 
 it must be very charming to be so believed 
 in. 
 
 " And I ought to know," she added, fer- 
 vently, " for I have known him all my life." 
 
 " Have you lived here very long ?" said 
 Captain Romilly, with somewhat of a shrug 
 of distaste, as his eye wandered over the 
 surrounding hills; "it must be horribly 
 dull, sometimes." 
 
 Her face fell. 
 
 " Do you think so, Monsieur ? I do not ; 
 but then I have never known another home, 
 so I am not fit to judge ; and I have so 
 much to do, with my cow, and the garden, 
 and the bees, that sometimes the days do 
 not seem half long enough for me ! Mon- 
 sieur has not yet seen my little cow — she 
 is so pretty and so gentle — I call her ' Erin/ 
 because Pere Joseph told me that is another 
 name for Ireland, and I love Ireland, 
 though I have never seen it." 
 
 " Were you born on the hills, Mademoi- 
 selle r 
 
 8—2
 
 11G VERONIQUE. 
 
 " Oil, no, Monsieur ; I was bom in Ben- 
 gal, but I cannot remember it. My poor 
 mother was travelling with my father's 
 regiment, in boats up the river, when I was 
 born, and she was so ill that she died, and 
 they threw her body over into the water. 
 I was such a weakly little baby, and they 
 had no milk to give me, so that everybody 
 thought that I should die, too, but my 
 father fed me with bread and water for five 
 days, until they got to shore again, and he 
 found a woman to attend to me — my poor, 
 dear father ! I wish that I could remember 
 him 1" 
 
 " How old were you when he died ?" 
 
 " Only two years, Monsieur ; and then a 
 black woman brought me all the way over 
 here to Pere Joseph, and he has been my 
 father ever since. And David was a big 
 boy when I first came — he is five years 
 older than I am, and he used to nurse me, 
 oh, so kindly ! — David has always been 
 very kind to me." 
 
 " And how did David come to live with 
 Pere Joseph V asked Captain Romilly, who
 
 ON THE TRACK OF THE TIGER. 117 
 
 had several times before wished to put the 
 same question. 
 
 The expression of Veronique's eyes 
 changed instantly from grave to gay. 
 
 " Oh ! has not Monsieur yet heard how 
 Pere Joseph picked up poor little David 
 one day when he was walking by himself — 
 not here, but in the plains ? He heard a 
 faint cry coming from a small bundle by the 
 roadside, and there, tied up in matting, was 
 the poor little naked baby, half dead from 
 hunger, which some wicked people had 
 thrown out to starve and die. David says 
 he hopes that it wasn't his mother who was 
 so unkind to him, but hell never find out 
 now," said Veronique, shaking her head, 
 " so what is the use of thinking about it. 
 Pere Joseph brought him home, and made 
 a little Christian boy of him, and gave him 
 me for a sister, and so I tell him, he must 
 try and be contented. He is very nice, is 
 David ! strong and tall, and well-looking ; 
 does not Monsieur think so ?" 
 
 She fixed her eyes enquiringly on him as 
 she spoke ; but on this theme Monsieur did
 
 a 
 
 a 
 
 118 VEROXIQUE. 
 
 not seem inclined to be enthusiastic. He 
 acknowledged that David was a good speci- 
 men of his race, and ought to be very grate- 
 ful to Pere Joseph and Mademoiselle for all 
 they had done for him ; but he soon changed 
 the subject, by asking Veronique if she had 
 no wish to visit England. 
 
 " Yes ! I should like to see England very 
 much," she said, " if there were no sea be- 
 tween it and this country." 
 
 Is Mademoiselle afraid of the sea then ?" 
 I cannot say that I am really afraid, 
 Monsieur, because I have never seen it. 
 But I dread the very thought of seeing it. 
 I am tossing on it sometimes in my sleep, 
 and it is always angry with me ; it never 
 rests or is peaceful." 
 
 He gazed up in her face astonished, us 
 she spoke, and he saw that her eyes were 
 fixed in a dreamy listless manner upon the 
 boundless space around them. 
 
 " But those are dreams, Mademoiselle — 
 they have no truth or substance in them. 
 T have often crossed the sea myself, and I 
 have never come to harm. If it does toss
 
 ON THE TRACK OF THE TIGER. 119 
 
 about a little sometimes, it is half in play : 
 and our English ships are stout, and care 
 nothing for a storm." 
 
 " Not always I" she answered quickly. 
 
 " Perhaps, not quite always ; but it is a 
 thousand chances to one if you meet with 
 an accident. People are crossing the ocean 
 every day, and the lives that are lost are 
 few. You will not be such a coward when 
 the time comes." 
 
 He spoke gaily, not supposing but that 
 her fears were half-affected ; but Veronique, 
 taking his empty cup from his hand, turned 
 from him with a deep sigh, and entered 
 the house. 
 
 " Good morning, Captain !" rung the 
 cheery voice of the priest, as he unlatched 
 the garden gate, and advanced to meet his 
 guest. " They tell me that we have had a 
 visitor here last night, who may take it into 
 his head to pay us the same compliment 
 again, in which case it shall not be my fault 
 if he does not receive a warmer reception 
 than he met with yesterday I" 
 
 " You are a sportsman, then, man p&re ?"
 
 120 VERONIQUE. 
 
 " Well ! hardlv — or if I am I must not 
 talk too much about it. There are people 
 would deny a priest the pleasure of his 
 dinner if they could. But being in these 
 wilds, and subject to such intrusions as this 
 one of last night, we are obliged to keep a 
 few weapons in the house ; and, having 
 them, we take care, as in duty bound, that 
 they do not rust — voild tout" and Pere 
 Joseph's roguish eyes twinkled with secret 
 understanding as he spoke. " I met David 
 with Monsieur, voire ami," he continued, 
 " busy over their trail within a few yards of 
 the house ; but it is useless for them to 
 think of tracking the tiger so near the place. 
 He's far enough away by this time, you may 
 depend upon it ; these animals will travel 
 miles in a night. Veronique, Veronique l M 
 he shouted, as, having gained the shelter of 
 his arm chair, he rapped on the table with 
 <i stick, " depSche-toi sers le deje&ner — les 
 autres seront ici <?"us >//? instant /" 
 
 Before the words were well out of his 
 mouth, the steps of David and Major Powell 
 were heard in the verandah.
 
 ON THE TRACK OF THE TIGER. 121 
 
 " Romilly I" exclaimed the latter with 
 glee, " we must be off directly after break- 
 fast, and look up those fellows from the 
 Avalanche Bungalow. I have great hopes 
 that we shall be able to follow up the trail 
 of this brute, and shall leave one of the 
 * shikarries ' behind me for the purpose : 
 but it would be a shame to go after him 
 without poor Newland — added to which, 
 they will probably be wasting their own 
 time ^ookms: after us." 
 
 " Yes ! I suppose it would be as well to 
 let them know that we are alive," replied 
 the A.D.C. "It's a deuced bore, though, 
 isn't it, that one's friends will persist in be- 
 ing anxious on one's account, and all that 
 sort of thing — because explanations, and so 
 forth, take up so much of one's valuable 
 existence." 
 
 " Now, Romilly, do cut Bond Street and 
 Buckingham Palace for once in a way, and 
 attack these deer steaks like a rational 
 being. These are samba, if I mistake not," 
 he continued, addressing Pere Joseph, whilst 
 Veronique — who appeared to have shaken
 
 122 VERONIQUE. 
 
 oft her fit of pensiveness — told Captain 
 Romilly that he must taste them, because 
 she had cooked them herself. 
 
 " Yes, sir, they are samba steaks," re- 
 plied the priest, " and this curry is made 
 of kid. We live chiefly upon deer and 
 goats' flesh out here. Don't be afraid of 
 Veronique's coffee, Monsieur ; I taught her 
 how to make it myself, and I'll lay you won't 
 get a better cup in all India ! That dish 
 before you contains roasted sweet potatoes. 
 You've come to a poor man's table, Captain, 
 or you should be better treated ; but such 
 as it is, you are heartily welcome to it !" 
 
 They assured him, as indeed they might 
 do, that they desired nothing better ; and, 
 the meal being concluded, Major Powell 
 and Captain Homilly buckled on their shot- 
 belts, and, throwing their guns over their 
 shoulders, stood up to say farewell. 
 
 They shook the old priest heartily by the 
 hand, thanking him again and again for his 
 hospitality, in return for which they did not 
 like to offer any more substantial proofs ol 
 gratitude ; whilst Pere Joseph assured them
 
 ON THE TRACK OF THE TIGER. 123 
 
 that never had visitors been more welcome 
 to a host, and that if such poor entertain- 
 ment as he could offer were not too humble 
 for them, he hoped he might see them there 
 again. The young native, David, refused 
 to say good-bye, declaring his intention of 
 walking back to the Avalanche Bungalow 
 with them, lest they should again miss their 
 way, and if they would permit him, of help- 
 ing them also to follow up the tiger s trail, 
 an offer which they gladly accepted. Only 
 Veronique did not appear during these fare- 
 well moments. Captain Bomilly's eyes 
 sought her more than once, but she did not 
 come, and no one seemed to miss her but 
 himself. 
 
 Major Powell could not imagine why his 
 companion lingered, when they had so much 
 work before them, and when at last he per- 
 suaded him to proceed, he seemed to do it 
 unwillingly. But as soon as Captain Gordon 
 Romilly had placed his foot in the verandah 
 his step was quickened, for there by the 
 palisades stood Veronique with a bunch of 
 roses in her apron, which she had gathered 
 for him as a parting present.
 
 .124 VERONIQUE. 
 
 "You said that they were pretty," she 
 murmured bashfully as he came up with 
 her, and took the flowers from her out- 
 stretched hand. 
 
 " How foolish of thee, Veronique, to wish 
 to cumber Monsieur with a large bouquet, 
 just as he is about to set out on a long 
 walk," said David in a tone of reproach, 
 which made the girl colour to her eyes. 
 
 " Give them back to me, Monsieur," she 
 cried, as she attempted to reclaim her offer- 
 ing ; " David is right — it was thoughtless 
 of me to think that you could carry them." 
 
 "David is wrong," was the A.D.C/s re- 
 ply, as he held the roses far above her 
 reach ; " the flowers are mine, Mademoiselle, 
 since you have been so kind as to give them 
 to me, and I will resign them to no one." 
 
 He lifted his hat and turned away gaily 
 with the bouquet in his grasp as he spoke ; 
 but if one might judge by the sudden crim- 
 son which rushed to his hearers cheeks and 
 brow, his looks had said more to her than 
 his words. 
 
 The sportsmen's return journey to the
 
 ON THE TRACK OF THE TIGER. 125 
 
 Avalanche Bungalow was unattended by any 
 accident, unless being nearly knocked over 
 by Homer, in the exuberance of his delight 
 at seeing them again may be counted as one. 
 " My dear fellows ! if I had brought with 
 me a single pocket-handkerchief more than 
 I shall absolutely need, I would weep with 
 joy at your safe return — I would, 'pon 
 my honour. If you hadn't turned up by 
 dinner-time this evening, Newland and I 
 had decided to go back into cantonment to 
 purchase our mourning. We fully intended 
 to appear at church next Sunday, like the 
 Siamese twins, in complete suits of black 
 glazed calico, made after the c muster ' of 
 General Perkins. And, now here you have 
 come back, and knocked our neat little 
 plan completely on the head. Where have 
 you been ? what have you been doing ? and 
 why didn't you send us a letter by the post 
 to come and join you ? When four fellows 
 agree to come out together for a little en- 
 joyment, and two of them rush off and have 
 the lark all to themselves, I call it an awful 
 shame I"
 
 126 V^RONIQUE. 
 
 " My dear Romer, when youVe done 
 talking, perhaps you will let us begin. If 
 you consider it a lark to be tumbling in the 
 dark amongst precipices, and risking your 
 neck at every step you take, I wish you'd 
 have let me know of it a little sooner, and 
 you should have been quite welcome to my 
 share of the pleasure." 
 
 " Why ! you don't mean to say it's been 
 so bad as that, Powell ?" exclaimed Romer 
 seriously. 
 
 a I do mean to say that we have had a 
 very narrow escape of meeting with a bad 
 accident, and if you'll call Newland, you 
 shall hear all about it ; but I never can per- 
 suade myself to tell a long story twice 
 over." 
 
 " Not even when it's against her Majesty's 
 Government f said Romer slyly. 
 
 But as soon as the sportsmen had related 
 their personal shares of the adventure of the 
 previous night, for the benefit of their 
 friends, and come to that part of it which 
 related to the tiger's track, the danger they 
 had undergone, the surprise first elicited at
 
 ON THE TRACK OF THE TIGER. 127 
 
 the mention of the priest's cottage, as well 
 as the admiration for the ibex head and 
 skin, were all alike forgotten in the eager 
 delight manifested by both Major Newland 
 and Captain Homer at the bare chance of 
 being able to follow up and kill the thieving 
 brute who had carried off the poor native's 
 cow. 
 
 " Just fancy your having the luck to come 
 across the beast in that way I" exclaimed 
 the Major ; " why, I sent my ' shikar ry ' 
 out the whole of yesterday, and he could 
 find no traces of him anywhere." 
 
 " Well, there are plenty of traces of him 
 about the priest's bungalow, at any rate," 
 said Powell ; " and David, the young native 
 I spoke to you of, who examined them with 
 me, thinks we shall have very little diffi- 
 culty in following up the trail, so I left the 
 old ' shikarry ' behind us to keep a sharp 
 look-out till we come." 
 
 "Where's Daniel? Where's David? 
 Where's Jehoshaphat ?" cried Homer in his 
 absurd excitement, " bring him in, and let 
 us hear all about it. I shall neither eat,
 
 12S \ :';ronique. 
 
 drink, nor take my rest, until the hour for 
 starting and all the other preliminaries are 
 arranged." 
 
 But on holding a consultation with the 
 young native, it anus decided that, as the 
 day was already past its meridian, it wi 
 too late to think of going after the tiger 
 until the next morning. 
 
 " I don't think he can be far from our 
 cabin, gentlemen/' said David, as he stood 
 respectfully before them with uncovered 
 head ; " because his footprints were so 
 fresh when I first saw them, that I expect 
 he crossed our garden as he was looking for 
 shelter after his night's prowl, and he is 
 most likely lying down in one of the sho- 
 lahs round about. He may move further 
 on this evening, but if he does, your ' shi- 
 karry ' ought to be aware of it, but I have 
 known them lie for two or three nights in 
 the same place when they have been well 
 filled. If we went after him this afternoon, 
 it would be growing dusk before we reached 
 his lair, and it would be very dangerous to 
 beat the sholahs after dark ; so, if you'll take
 
 ON THE TRACK OF THE TIGER. 129 
 
 my advice, sirs, you'll go to bed early and be 
 up with the sun, ride on horseback as far as 
 our place, which you can easily do if I show 
 you the road, and from there we will go 
 after the brute on foot/' 
 
 "But what will you do, David, if we 
 ride V asked Major Powell. 
 
 " I will borrow a c tat/ Monsieur ; there 
 is one belonging to the man in charge of the 
 bungalow." 
 
 And so it was agreed that they should 
 follow David's advice, and be ready for a 
 tiger-hunt the first thing in the morning, 
 and Homer and Newland insisting on the 
 young native sitting at the dinner table 
 with them — a proceeding which, notwith- 
 standing his European education, made him 
 terribly uncomfortable — they brought him 
 in amongst them, and made merry with 
 him for the remainder of the day. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AN AWKWARD TUMBLE. 
 
 " Would it be impossible for Monsieur 
 to procure any other animal to ride this 
 morning ¥' asked David, as he watched 
 Captain Komilly tightening the girths of 
 his horse's saddle, and observed how restive 
 the Arab became under the operation. 
 
 "Why do you ask?" said Komilly, 
 curtly. He had not taken the same fancy 
 for the young native as his friends, and was 
 rather disposed to resent the intimacy they 
 had established with him. 
 
 " Because the road by which we shall 
 travel is very narrow, Monsieur, and in 
 parts broken. A spirited horse is never a 
 safe mount for the Neilgherry Hills ; a
 
 AN AWKWARD TUMBLE. 131 
 
 pony is much more sure-footed, and less 
 apt to shy. I would not venture to ride 
 anything myself but a pony over the paths 
 we must cross to-day." 
 
 " You may ride a pony, or a bullock if 
 you like," replied Gordon Romilly ; " but I 
 wouldn't mount one if I had it. I have 
 ridden this horse ever since I have been in 
 India, and I never found him refuse to go 
 at anything, yet. When I mount an ani- 
 mal, I become the master of it !" and with 
 an air of supreme authority, the A.D.C., 
 (who was as conceited of his horsemanship 
 as he was of most other things), flung him- 
 self into his saddle, and sat there like a 
 rock, whilst the Arab performed sundry 
 curvets and other unnecessary exhibitions 
 in front of the Avalanche Bungalow. David 
 glanced at the fidgety animal for two or 
 three seconds in silence, and then turned 
 away without saying another word. 
 
 "We were so full of our exploits and 
 adventures yesterday, Newland," observed 
 Major Powell, as soon as the party was en 
 route, "that I really believe we were ego- 
 
 9—2
 
 132 vKROXjQn:. 
 
 tistical enough never to enquire what kind 
 of sport, in the meanwhile, you and Romer 
 had enjoyed. Did you see any ibex ?" 
 
 " Not one ; for having sent off my ' shi- 
 karry ' in search of the tiger, we did not 
 feel competent to find our way over the 
 hills without a guide. So we confined our 
 explorations to the jungle at the back of 
 the bungalow, where I brought down a 
 couple of deer, and Romer got a good shot 
 at a samba, and missed it V 
 
 " But killed a w r olf instead," said Romer, 
 laughing. 
 
 " A wolf ! why there are no such things 
 here. If you had said a bear, I should not 
 have been surprised V said Major Powell. 
 
 " Well, it was as big as a wolf, any- 
 way ! 
 
 " It was a wild dog," observed Newland, 
 bluntly. 
 
 " There's Newland, as usual, calling him- 
 self a friend, and trying to put my light 
 out. There's not much difference after all 
 between one of these wild dogs and a wolf, 
 is there, David V 9
 
 AN AWKWARD TUMBLE. 133 
 
 " Not when you meet them in packs, 
 Monsieur/' replied the young man, who 
 was mounted on a mangy " tat," or native 
 pony, so low in height that the long legs 
 of his rider nearly touched the ground. " I 
 saw a large samba once pulled down by 
 them as easily as though it had been a 
 sheep or a calf." 
 
 " Did you really ; where was that ?" 
 " In the Annomally Forests, sir ! I had 
 gone down to the plains for a few weeks, to 
 have some shooting with a friend, and I 
 lost myself in the jungle. I'm sure I don't 
 know how it happened, for we had been 
 together all the morning ; but in the after- 
 noon we separated, and though I had 
 ' blazed ' the trees as I went, I couldn't 
 for the life of me find my way back to the 
 place of meeting. I fired shot after shot 
 from my gun, in hopes that my friend would 
 understand the signal and answer it ; but I 
 heard nothing in return, except the occa- 
 sional distant crack of his rifle, which 
 seemed to go farther from me, the more I 
 wandered about after its sound, till at last
 
 134 VEKONIQUE. 
 
 all my own ammunition was expended, and 
 the night was drawing on so fast, that the 
 only thing left for me to do was to climb 
 up the straightest and most difficult tree I 
 could find, in hopes of remaining safe 
 in its branches until the morning." 
 
 "What a deuced uncomfortable posi- 
 tion !" exclaimed Homer. 
 
 "It was so, Monsieur ; I can assure you, 
 I never wish to be placed in such a one 
 again ! As the daylight faded away, 
 (which it quickly does in so densely wooded 
 a situation), the forest became alive with 
 hideous noises, and what with the darkness 
 and the peril, T felt as though I were already 
 in purgatory. All the animals of prey, the 
 tigers, cheetahs, hyenas, and jackals, left 
 their hiding-places, and prowled about, call- 
 ing after each other, or howling for their 
 own amusement ; and more than once my 
 heart nearly stopped beating, as I heard a 
 rustling about the foot of the tree in which 
 I sat, and felt (for the darkness was so 
 great where the shadows fall, that I could 
 not see), that some brute had smelt me out,
 
 AN AWKWARD TUMBLE. 135 
 
 and was making up his mind whether it 
 would be worth his while to clamber up 
 and fetch me down, or not." 
 
 " Good heavens ! how horrible I" said 
 Major Powell. "David, I wonder your 
 hair is not grey." 
 
 " Should that have turned it grey, Mon- 
 sieur V said the young native, laughing, as 
 he ran his fingers through his coal-black 
 curls. " I don't think it has ; but I never 
 passed so long a night before ! I am sure 
 that forty-eight hours of ordinary darkness 
 could not appear longer than those twelve 
 did to me." 
 
 " Go on, go on !" cried Homer, impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 "Well, Monsieur, I suppose it must 
 have been about the middle of the night, 
 when I saw the scene I mentioned to you. 
 I had half fallen asleep, through weariness 
 and fatigue, when I was roused by a most 
 horrible noise, as if all the fiends in hell 
 had been let loose about the forest. Yelp- 
 ing, snapping, snarling, whining, on it came 
 like a torrent of sound, and just as I was
 
 1 :36 VERONIQUE. 
 
 wondering from what animals it could pos- 
 sibly proceed, there was a crash and a 
 burst through the jungle near the tree in 
 which I was concealed, and right before it, 
 just in the line of the moonlight, flew pant- 
 ing, an enormous samba, with its head 
 thrown back, its tongue thrust out, and 
 its flanks literally bathed m sweat ; whilst 
 before it, around it, and on its heels, rushed a 
 pack of these wild dogs. There must have 
 been a hundred of them, if there was one. 
 They were leaping at its throat, rushing 
 between its feet, and hanging on its hinder 
 quarters, and I was not surprised, the 
 moment after the yelping crew was out of 
 sight, to hear a heavy fall and a long moan, 
 and to know that the poor samba had suc- 
 cumbed to its pursuers. I heard the devils 
 through the darkness, tearing the flesh off 
 its quivering carcase ; and I was thankful, 
 gentlemen, that it took place out of my 
 sight, for to listen to it only made me feel 
 quite sick." 
 
 " I don't wonder at it," said Major New-
 
 AN AWKWARD TUMBLE. 137 
 
 land. " I had no idea these creatures were 
 so powerful. And did. you remain in the 
 tree till daylight, David ?" 
 
 " Yes ! Monsieur, I had no alternative. 
 I saw several things that night that made 
 my blood creep, considering that I had 
 neither shot nor powder left. At one time, 
 two tigers gambolled together under the 
 tree like a couple of cats for more than 
 half an hour, whilst I was dreading every 
 moment lest they should smell me out, and 
 turn their play into business ; and at an- 
 other, a huge elephant scratched his back so 
 vigorously against the bark of it, that he 
 nearly shook me out of the branches. But, 
 thanks to the Blessed Virgin, nothing was 
 suffered to molest me, though when the 
 sun had risen, I was so cramped from sitting 
 all night in one position, that I had hardly 
 strength to leave it." 
 
 " There are a great many elephants in the 
 Annomally Forests, are there not, David ¥>' 
 
 " Hundreds, Monsieur, it is famous for 
 them ! Has not Monsieur heard of the
 
 138 VERONIQUE. 
 
 young English officer who was killed there 
 by one, about this time last year V 
 
 " He means poor Williamson !" inter- 
 posed Major Powell. "He held one of 
 these appointments for looking after govern- 
 ment timber, and spent almost all his time 
 out in the Annomallies, shooting elephant 
 I can't tell you how many he shot in a year, 
 the number was almost incredible. But he 
 grew foolhardy with success, and at last 
 took to going after them on foot, by which 
 means the poor fellow lost his life, for 
 having wounded an elephant without killing 
 him, the huge brute wheeled round before 
 Williamson could get out of his way, and 
 crushed him to death." 
 
 " I thought elephants turned so slowly, 
 that it was always possible for a man to 
 avoid them if he were careful," remarked 
 Newland. 
 
 " Not always ! they turn slowly, it is 
 true, but they cover an immense deal of 
 ground, and should never be hunted except 
 on horseback. A wounded elephant is the 
 most dangerous of animals, for nothing
 
 AN AWKWARD TUMBLE. 139 
 
 destroys life more effectually than the 
 pounding of their ponderous feet and knees. 
 When poor Williamson's body was rescued 
 from the one in question, there was neither 
 shape nor consistence in it I" 
 
 " And was the brute killed eventually ?" 
 
 " I believe not ! To kill an elephant on 
 the spot you must send your bullet through 
 the socket of his eye, for they have been 
 known to flatten against his frontal bone, 
 and it requires an experienced shot to do 
 that. Williamson's followers were probably 
 too much occupied in col]ecting all that re- 
 mained of their poor master, to think of 
 looking after the animal that had destroyed 
 him. It was a dreadful accident." 
 
 " But what was the end of your adven- 
 ture, David V demanded Captain Romer, 
 " why hadn't your friend sent some one to 
 look after you V 
 
 "He had, Monsieur, both sent and 
 searched himself, but when the darkness 
 fell, they were as fearful to walk about 
 the jungle as I should have been, for it is 
 so thick there, that it is impossible to say
 
 140 VERONIQUE. 
 
 at one step, what you may not meet the 
 next. They .sat up all night, however, in 
 hopes I might come home, and in great 
 distress lest I had been devoured ; and as 
 soon as the day dawned, they were on the 
 search again, and I could hear their guns 
 being fired in every direction, although I 
 had nothing except my voice wherewith to 
 answer them. I had watched the sun rise 
 by that time ; I had seen all the cowardly 
 beasts of prey, the tigers, hyenas, and 
 jackals, skulking home after their nightly 
 prowl, as if they were terribly ashamed of 
 themselves ; and the gentler animals, the 
 elephants, samber and spotted deer, going 
 to browse on the outskirts of the jungle 
 before the hot sun should have sucked up 
 the moisture from the herbage ; so I was 
 no longer afraid to descend from my resting- 
 place, and what with the reports from the 
 fire-arms and my own shouting, my friend 
 and I managed to get nearer one another, 
 until we met. We were very glad to see 
 each other, gentlemen, as you may suppose ; 
 and I was very glad to get into a bed the
 
 AN AWKWARD TUMBLE. 141 
 
 next night, and leave the elephants and 
 tigers to their enjoyment without me." 
 
 " I should think you must have been," 
 said Homer. " David, is that your home 
 that we have just come in sight of V 
 
 " Yes ! Monsieur, that is the house of 
 Pere Joseph ; and beside it, you see, stands 
 our little chapel." 
 
 " By Jove ! how pretty ! You must let 
 me come and pay you a visit, David, before 
 we go back to cantonment, for I shall not 
 be out this way again before my leave is ex- 
 pired." And then as the party of horsemen 
 drew nearer to the priest s cottage, he con- 
 tinued, " And is that your — your — sister, 
 who is leaning over the palings and looking 
 in this direction ?" 
 
 " Veronique is not my sister, Monsieur," 
 replied the young native quickly. 
 
 " She calls herself so, at any rate," inter- 
 posed Captain Homilly, who was near 
 enough to have heard the remark, and 
 noted the readiness of its answer. 
 
 " She may call herself so, Monsieur," 
 replied David quietly, " because she knows
 
 142 VERONIQUE. 
 
 no better title ; but for all that, Veronique 
 is not related to me in any way." 
 
 " One might easily see that, by Jove !" 
 said the A.D.C. scornfully ; at which 
 remark Captain Homer threw him a quick 
 glance of reproof, and the young native's 
 cheeks flushed darkly ; but neither spoke 
 to him ; and Gordon Romilly appeared 
 perfectly indifferent to what they chose to 
 feel. 
 
 " Veronique ! rnon pere, est-il a la max- 
 son ?" said David, as he rode a little in 
 advance of the others ; perhaps to better 
 hide the discomfiture which had assailed 
 him. 
 
 " Non ! il y a deux heures qu'il est parti 
 pour la ville" came back in Veroniques 
 rich, shy voice, but she was gazing mean- 
 while, not at her adopted brother, but a 
 little further on, where the handsome, 
 Saxon-haired A.D.C. bestrode his thorough- 
 bred Arab ; with a red rose, selected from 
 her bouquet of the day before, conspicuously 
 displayed in his button-hole.
 
 AN AWKWARD TUMBLE. 143 
 
 " Shall we dismount and leave the ponies 
 here, David ¥' demanded Major Powell. 
 
 " I think not, Monsieur. It is impossible 
 to say how far we may have to walk. I 
 think it will be best to ride as long as the 
 road is practicable ; and then send the 
 animals back to our stable by the horse- 
 keepers, to attend your return. But if 
 you will wait a minute I will go round to 
 our ' go-down/ and see whether the 
 ( shikarry' may not be there, or have left 
 some news of his whereabouts. Pray 
 take care of your horse, Monsieur," he 
 added, earnestly appealing to Captain 
 Ptomilly, who was most unnecessarily rein- 
 ing in his Arab in order to make him per- 
 form sundry evolutions on his hind legs for 
 the benefit of the blue eyes fixed upon him, 
 " you have got the curb-rein a great deal 
 too tight. He will have you over the side 
 of the hill if you are not more careful !" 
 
 " D — n the fellow's impertinence ! why 
 doesn't he mind his own business V ex- 
 claimed Captain Pomilly, not quite sotto 
 voce to Captain Homer ; but the words
 
 144 VERONIQUE. 
 
 were scarcely out of his mouth before ti 
 native's prophecy was fulfilled. A harder 
 pull than before, in his impatience, at the 
 Arab's tender mouth, made the restive 
 animal (naturally resentful of the treatment 
 he was undergoing) suddenly back towards 
 the unprotected side of the narrow path, 
 and in another moment he had reared 
 violently upon a particle of loose earth, and, 
 together with his thoughtless rider, fallen 
 over the precipitous decline. A simulta- 
 neous exclamation from his friends, and a 
 scream from Veronique, was all that Gordon 
 Romilly heard, before he was whirled in 
 mid-air and thrown with a violent crash 
 against some opposing obstacle, which he 
 had hardly had time to realise when an 
 iron hoof, planted in his face, laid his fore- 
 head and part of his cheek open, and de- 
 prived him of all consciousness. The horse 
 had fallen backwards, but providentially 
 came against a clump of bushes in its 
 descent ; where, finding itself in a reversed 
 and unnatural position, it had disengaged 
 itself from its unfortunate master, by an
 
 AN AWKWARD TUMBLE. 145 
 
 •unceremonious struggle and kick, which 
 had rendered Romilly senseless, and caused 
 the animal to roll still further down the 
 hill, where it now lay bruised and injured, 
 with its fore-feet entangled in the reins. 
 
 All above was now hurry and confusion. 
 The sportsmen quickly dismounted from 
 their steeds, and delivering them over into 
 the charge of the natives, prepared with 
 cautious steps, to go to the succour of their 
 friend ; but as Romer and Newland planted 
 their feet upon the yielding, treacherous 
 soil, they found that their intention was 
 forestalled. Some one had already scaled 
 the high palisades which surrounded the 
 garden of the priest ; some one had pushed 
 everyone (even David himself) who at- 
 tempted to interfere with her actions, to 
 one side — and swift as a deer, and sure- 
 footed as an ibex— rushed down the preci- 
 pice to the assistance of Captain Romilly. 
 
 " Take care, Veronique ; take care/' cried 
 David in their familiar language, as he 
 anxiously watched the fearlessness with 
 which, having gained the clump of bushes 
 
 VOL. 1. 10
 
 14G VERONIQUE. 
 
 where the Englishman lay, she seated her- 
 self by his side, and placed his head upon 
 her lap, " remember that with the shallow 
 soil upon these rocks, the roots of the trees 
 can have but little hold, and do not lean 
 thy weight against them." 
 
 " I am safe enough !" she answered, hur- 
 riedly, " how canst thou think of me ? 
 Quick, David ! fetch water, and something 
 with which to stem this dreadful blood. 
 He will bleed to death if thou dost not 
 make haste I" 
 
 They all dispersed in different directions 
 to try and find something which should aid 
 the recovery of the A.D.C., and left her 
 with him, for a space, alone. Meanwhile 
 Veronique had tenderly placed a hand 
 under his head, whilst with her little apron 
 she strove to absorb the blood which welled 
 freshly over his face as fast as she wiped it 
 away : and her tears commenced to foil 
 upon the unconscious stranger. Gordon 
 Komilly certainly presented an appearance 
 to frighten any sensitive beholder. His 
 handsome nose and cheek had been severely
 
 AN AWKWARD TUMBLE. 147 
 
 cut by the horse's hoof, and being youthful 
 and full of blood, the sanguineous stream 
 flowed freely, and had dyed his bright locks 
 crimson, and pretty well obliterated his 
 comely features. And then to see a young, 
 strong man suddenly deprived, apparently 
 of being, is always an alarming sight : and 
 Veronique's soft little heart quailed with 
 apprehension at it. When Gordon Romilly 
 awoke to consciousness again, it was to see 
 a pair of dark blue eyes, eagerly searching 
 his own to find some sign of life, and to 
 feel hot tears slowly dropping at intervals 
 upon his hands and face. He stared at her 
 wildly for a moment, not knowing where 
 he was, then half started from his recum- 
 bent position and gazed around him. 
 
 " I am all right, thank you," he said, 
 hurriedly, as though in answer to some 
 question. " I can go on now," and with 
 the words fell back upon her lap, utterly 
 unable to move. 
 
 " If you could manage to get to the top 
 of the hill, with the aid of Veronique and 
 myself, Monsieur," said David, who, armed 
 
 10—2
 
 148 vkhoxique. 
 
 with cloths and cold water, was also by hifl 
 side, " I think it would be a good thing ; 
 for you must be very uncomfortable lying 
 here/' 
 
 He had descended to the help of Captain 
 Rom illy as soon as he had procured what 
 Veronique desired him, and with her, had 
 watched until he regained his consciousness. 
 The A.D.C/s friends had also been very 
 anxious to go to his assistance, but David 
 had entreated them to remain quietly 
 where they were, representing to them that 
 not being, like himself and the girl, ac- 
 customed to run up and down the precipices, 
 they might meet with some accident them- 
 selves, and could not possibly be of any use 
 to Captain Romilly. And so, considerably 
 disheartened by the contretemps which had 
 interrupted their sport, they were anxiously 
 awaiting above, the moment when their 
 companion should be able to rejoin them. 
 
 " Oh, I can walk well enough !" said 
 Romilly, in answer to the natives last 
 suggestion, "just stand out of my way, 
 and I'll get up."
 
 AN AWKWARD TUMBLE. 149 
 
 " Why should not Monsieur rest quietly 
 here, until he feels a little stronger ?" said 
 Ve*ronique compassionately. 
 
 "Monsieur can do as he thinks fit," replied 
 David, who considered that the compassion 
 was undeserved. 
 
 " Thanks, but I will go on, I am all right 
 again !" said Romilly, with a look of grati- 
 tude at Veronique, and then he staggered 
 to his feet, and placing a hand upon each 
 of their shoulders, forced himself to climb 
 the steep ascent down which he had fallen, 
 and having accomplished it, without a 
 sound to denote that he was suffering, sunk 
 down upon the pathway in a deep swoon. 
 
 "Romilly!" Roruer had just exclaimed, 
 "will you be able to go on with us V when 
 Romilly tumbled down unconscious at his 
 feet, " Good heavens ! he has fainted ! he 
 will never be able to proceed, it would be 
 folly to try." 
 
 " So it would, Sir," said David, " I dare 
 say Monsieur is very much bruised, he has 
 had an ugly fall. If you will kindly lift 
 him up, gentlemen, and carry him between
 
 150 VERONIQUE. 
 
 you into the house, Veronique will shew 
 you what bed to place him on ; (le lit qui 
 est dans le cabinet du rez-de-cJtaussee, 
 Veronique,) and I will go and look after the 
 poor horse, who, if I mistake not, is still 
 more hurt than his master." 
 
 Newland, Powell, and Homer, did as he 
 desired them, and preceded by the girl, 
 whose face had re-filled with anxiety, carried 
 Gordon Romilly into the cottage of the 
 priest, whilst David descended to the 
 succour of the horse. He found it in a 
 deplorable condition, though not so danger- 
 ously injured as he had imagined. It had 
 been much bruised and shaken by the fall, 
 had an eye closed, and was lamed from the 
 shoulder ; but having led it gently down 
 the remainder of the declivity, and brought 
 it home to the stable by a more circuitous 
 though easier path, he threw it down a 
 litter of clean straw, and hastened into the 
 house to enquire what news there was of 
 its master. 
 
 Captain Romilly, having recovered from 
 his faint, had been tenderly undressed by
 
 AN AWKWARD TUMBLE. 151 
 
 the kind offices of his friend Romer, and 
 put into the bed which stood in a little 
 room next the priest s parlour, whence he 
 was now vehemently adjuring his com- 
 panions to continue their search after the 
 tiger, and leave him to take care of himself. 
 
 " I will take care of you, Monsieur," in- 
 terposed Veronique, naively. 
 
 " I am sure you will, Mademoiselle, and 
 it will be a great deal more than I deserve. 
 It was entirely my own fault that I came 
 to grief, and it will be a deuced shame, 
 Homer, if you fellows let me spoil sport in 
 this way. You'll force me to get up and 
 remount that unhappy animal if you persist 
 in remaining by my side; Newland, Powell, 
 do say that you'll go on, and leave me here 
 until I'm fit to follow you. Who knows 
 what the rest of an hour or two, may not 
 do for me ?" 
 
 Notwithstanding all his conceit, and 
 folly, and thoughtlessness, he had borne 
 his pain, and now frankly confessed his 
 fault so like a true Englishman, that his 
 friends stood together cogitating, and
 
 152 VERONIQUE. 
 
 could not come to a satisfactory conclusion 
 about liim. They wanted to follow up the 
 trail of the ti^er : but a new feeling w. 
 springing up in their breasts regarding the 
 A.D.C., and they could not quite make up 
 their minds to leave him behind, alone. 
 First one, and then the other, proposed to 
 keep him company, but Gordon Romilly 
 put a decided veto upon each proposition, 
 and declared his intention of remaining by 
 himself or not at all. 
 
 " David !" he exclaimed, as the young 
 native made his appearance amongst them, 
 " persuade them to continue their hunt 
 after the tio*er ! I shall never forgive 
 myself if it is given up on my account." 
 
 " I see no reason why it should be, 
 gentlemen," was David's consequent re- 
 mark, " I am sure that Monsieur will be 
 well cared for during our absence, and that 
 the best things for him now, are rest and 
 quiet. Pere Joseph will be home in ano- 
 ther hour, and see that he has everything 
 he wants ; meanwhile, he will be all the 
 better for not talking, or being talked to.
 
 AN AWKWARD TUMBLE. 153 
 
 We have plenty of time before us ; and 
 the old ( shikarry' is here, and tracked the 
 tiofer into a sholah about four miles off this 
 morning, where in all probability he still 
 lies. So that if you are agreed, gentlemen, 
 I am quite ready to accompany you, and 
 by the time we return this evening, I hope 
 that Monsieur will be able to sit up, and 
 listen to the account of your adventures I" 
 So it was settled that they should leave 
 Captain Romilly as he desired, to recover 
 the effects of his accident ; and with 
 many wishes for a speedy convalescence, 
 the sportsmen filed out of the cottage door.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 SAINTE VERONIQUE. 
 
 The fleshwounds received in his face, 
 although very disfiguring, were the least 
 part of the injury which Gordon Romilly 
 had sustained. He had hurt his back very 
 seriously in his fall, but unwilling further 
 to interrupt the pleasure of his companions, 
 had carefully concealed the discomfort he 
 was enduring, until they should have 
 taken their departure. 
 
 Now, considering himself alone, he 
 thought it no longer necessary to place a 
 restraint upon his feelings, and turning on 
 his pillow gave vent to a deep groan of 
 pain. 
 
 " Monsieur, Monsieur ! are you suffering 
 very much ?" said Veronique, in a subdued,
 
 SAINTE VERONIQUE. 155 
 
 half-fearful voice, as she left her position 
 in the sitting-room and came and stood by 
 his pillow. He did not answer her, except 
 by another groan, and the girl grew 
 frightened. With the exception of an old 
 native woman, who took the rougher part 
 of the house-work off her hands, she was 
 quite alone with him, and the dread lest 
 he should again be about to faint, quite 
 overpowered her. 
 
 Her tender bosom began to heave, and 
 the tears rose freshly in her liquid eyes, 
 as she stood, silently regarding him, with 
 a look in which fear and compassion were 
 marvellously blended. 
 
 " Is there nothing that I can do for you, 
 Monsieur V she demanded presently in a 
 timid whisper, as she laid her hand gently 
 upon his shirt-sleeve. Rom illy raised 
 his face from the pillow and stared at 
 her. 
 
 " Are you there, Mademoiselle ? I had 
 really no idea of it. What must you 
 think of me V and he tried to smile, but 
 bit his lip in the midst of the attempt.
 
 156 V^RONIQUE. 
 
 " You are in great pain I am afraid, 
 Monsieur !" 
 
 " Yes ! confound it ! I can't conceive 
 what it is ; I feel as though my hack were 
 being seared with red-hot irons. But I 
 daresay it will be better presently ! Do 
 you know, Mademoiselle, how my poor 
 horse is V 
 
 " He is lame, Monsieur, but David says 
 that a few days' rest will be enough to cure 
 him." 
 
 Something in the tone in which these 
 words were uttered, attracted Gordon 
 Romilly to examine the face of Veronique ; 
 and then he saw that tears were on her 
 cheek. The girl caught his look, and 
 blushed beneath it. 
 
 "Are those tears for me ?" he said 
 quietly. 
 
 " Oh ! Monsieur ! it is so sad to see you 
 suffer." 
 
 He put his hand out from the bed- 
 clothes as she spoke, and held it towards 
 her, and when she placed hers in it, he 
 raised the little fingers to his lij The
 
 SAINTE VERONIQUE. 157 
 
 action made Veronique turn scarlet ; she 
 snatched her hand away from his, so 
 quickly that he could not distinguish 
 whether the action arose from modesty or 
 anger ; and drawing it across her still wet 
 eyes, ran into the next apartment. But 
 it was not long before she heard his voice 
 calling her again, and she could not but 
 answer it. 
 
 " Mademoiselle ! where are you ?" 
 
 " I am here, Monsieur, close by ; what 
 is it that you want V 
 
 " You don't know what pain I am 
 suffering, nor how lonely I feel when you 
 leave me here by myself." 
 
 " What can I do for you, Monsieur ? 
 Will you have a cup of coffee, or chocolate ? 
 or shall I put fresh bandages about your 
 head ?" 
 
 " No — no ! — none of these ! only come 
 in here and sit down somewhere where I 
 can lie and look at you ; for the pain is 
 twice as bad to bear when you leave me, 
 all alone." 
 
 " Have patience for one moment, Mon-
 
 158 v£ronique. 
 
 sieur, and I will do as you ask me ; but I 
 must get the meat and potatoes on the 
 fire first, or we shall have no dinner to- 
 day." 
 
 " What are you doing now, then ! 
 
 " Peeling potatoes, Monsieur !" 
 
 " Can't you bring them in here, and let 
 me watch you peel them. It is so stupid 
 with nothing to amuse me." 
 
 He spoke so like a fractious child that 
 the girl, although she laughed at him, made 
 no further objection to his request, but 
 lifting the heavy wooden bowl which con- 
 tained her potatoes, carried it, spilling 
 w T ater over the floor at every step, into the 
 bedroom where he lay, and placed it on a 
 chair beside him. 
 
 " Now, Monsieur, I hope that you will 
 be satisfied." 
 
 " Thank you, yes ! that will do very 
 nicely, and you need not talk unless you 
 desire it. I only want to have something 
 just to look at." 
 
 This generous permission of silence ac- 
 corded her by the A.D.C., had the effect of
 
 SAINTE VERONIQUE. 159 
 
 chaining Veronique's tongue altogether ; 
 and, washing, scraping, and peeling her 
 potatoes, she stood by the wooden bowl for 
 the next ten minutes without speaking a 
 word, whilst Gordon Bomilly kept his eyes 
 fixed upon her changing face, as though he 
 were studying her features with a view to 
 reproducing them on canvas. Presently he 
 said, and rather abruptly : 
 
 " Why were you called Veronique, Made- 
 moiselle ?" 
 
 " Because I was born on the ninth of 
 July, Monsieur, which, as doubtless you 
 know, is the day of the blessed Sainte 
 Veronique Giuliani. I was christened 
 Veronique Marie after her and the Blessed 
 Virgin." 
 
 " Veronique Marie Moore," said Gordon 
 Bomilly slowly, as though wishing to im- 
 press the words upon his memory. " That 
 is a very pretty name ! And so Sainte 
 Veronique is your patron saint, I suppose." 
 
 " Certainly, Monsieur, and which is 
 yours l . 
 
 " I haven't one," replied Captain Bo-
 
 160 V&tONIQUE. 
 
 milly, forgetting he was supposed to be a 
 Ptoman Catholic. 
 
 " Not any I" exclaimed Veronique, drop- 
 ping the potato upon which she was en- 
 gaged, in her surprise. " Not any, Mon- 
 sieur ; but how can that be ? On which 
 day were you born V 
 
 " On the third of November,' 7 said 
 Gordon Romilly, aware that he had got 
 into a scrape, but not the least how he 
 should get out of it, for of saints and saints' 
 days, their peculiarities and obligations, he 
 was utterly ignorant. 
 
 " The third of November/' replied Vero- 
 nique, " it is the feast of the blessed Saint 
 Hubert. Are you not named Hubert, 
 Monsieur V 
 
 " I have no name but Gordon," said the 
 A.D.C., ruefully. 
 
 " Gordon, Gordon," repeated the girl, 
 pronouncing the syllables as though tin 
 were French. " I don't think there is any 
 saint of that name. And Monsieur is sure 
 he has no other I" 
 
 " Quite sure 1" said Romilly, shaking his
 
 SAINTE VERONIQUE. 161 
 
 head. " You see my friends were very 
 negligent, Mademoiselle, and didn't care 
 ■whether I had anybody to look after me 
 through life or no." 
 
 " The Blessed Virgin and the saints pro- 
 tect you all the same," said the girl, 
 earnestly ; " but it is strange it should have 
 been omitted." 
 
 " I must adopt a saint, Mademoiselle, if 
 you do not think it is too late for me to 
 begin. Which shall I take ? you shall help 
 me to a choice." 
 
 " St. Hubert is your proper guardian," 
 replied Veronique, without an idea that he 
 was jesting, <c and you should have borne 
 his name." 
 
 " But I prefer a lady guardian," said 
 Captain Romilly, looking up into her eyes. 
 " I shall take Sainte Veronique. Do you 
 think she will look after me properly, 
 Mademoiselle V 
 
 The girl lowered her gaze to his, and saw 
 that he was laughing. 
 
 " This is not a subject for jest, Monsieur," 
 she said, gravely ; and Captain Romilly 
 vol. i. 11
 
 162 YKKOXTQUE. 
 
 had to groan several times, and talk a good 
 deal about the pain he was enduring, before 
 he could get her to look as interested and 
 sympathetic as she had done before. As 
 soon as the potatoes were ready, they were 
 obliged to be carried away into the kitchen, 
 and set upon the fire ; and just as Vrm- 
 nique had assured the A.D.C. that in an- 
 other ten minutes he should have his din- 
 ner the sound of horses' hoofs was heard, 
 and Pere Joseph's stout mountain pony 
 ambled round to the stable door. 
 
 " Here is mon pere" exclaimed Vero- 
 nique, as she flew out of the cottage door 
 to meet the priest, and before they re- 
 entered it together, she had put him in 
 possession of all that had happened since 
 his departure. 
 
 " I am very grieved to see you like this. 
 mon jils" was the greeting of Pere Joseph 
 to the prostrate A.D.C. ; " but since you 
 did fall, let us be thankful that it hap- 
 pened so close to the house. Veronique 
 and I will take* every care of you till 
 you are able to move about again, which,
 
 SAINTE VERONIQTJE. 1G3 
 
 for your own sake, I trust may be very 
 
 soon." 
 
 " I am only afraid that I shall be such a 
 trouble to you and Mademoiselle, monpere" 
 said Captain Romilly, as he tried to turn 
 himself, and made a wry face in the at- 
 tempt. " I never intended to tax your 
 hospitality like this ; but they carried 
 me in here, whilst I was still uncon- 
 
 scious/' 
 
 " And where else should they have carried 
 you V demanded the priest, smiling. " I 
 only spoke for your own sake, Monsieur. 
 You will not find Veronique or myself com- 
 plain of the pleasure of your company, how- 
 ever long we may have it. But allow me 
 to look at your back ; I am a bit of a doctor 
 as well as a priest, and have a famous stock 
 of potions and liniments upstairs, made 
 from my old grandmother's receipts. Ah ! 
 I see w T hat is the matter with you," he 
 continued, as he lifted the coverings, and 
 discovered the young, straight spine, now 
 fast discolouring from the effect of a mass 
 of bruises. "It is very painful, without 
 
 11—2
 
 164 VEIIONIQUE. 
 
 doubt, but there is nothing dangerous here, 
 and a good rubbing, and a couple of days' 
 rest, will set you all right. I am afraid 
 your back will be mended before your face, 
 Monsieur ; you've spoilt your beauty for 
 awhile, there's no doubt of that, and it's 
 just as well that you're in the jungle, with 
 no ladies to look at you ;" and chuckling 
 over his own remark, Pere Joseph stumbled 
 up stairs, to return with a huge bottle of 
 liniment, which he insisted upon rubbing 
 into Romilly's back at once, although the 
 latter was most eloquent in his entreaties 
 that he should wait at least until he had 
 had his dinner. As soon as the meal was 
 concluded, the good-natured priest fell to 
 work again, and Captain Rom illy found the 
 effect of these continued lubrications so 
 soothing, that when Pere Joseph, fairly 
 tired out, called to Veronique to bring his 
 pipe and his arm-chair into the bedroom of 
 his guest, the A.D.C. requested her to 
 hand him his likewise out of the pocket of 
 his coat, and the two men fell to smoking 
 together.
 
 SA1NTE VERONIQUE. 165 
 
 " Ah ! my grandmother was very famous 
 for everything of the kind," remarked the 
 priest in answer to an expression of grati- 
 tude on Ronrilly's part, for the good the 
 liniment appeared to be doing him ; "if 
 anyone was sick in Reve, they always 
 came to her for the remedy, and believed 
 in it much more than they did in the 
 doctor's." 
 
 " Is Reve a large place, mon pere ?" said 
 Romilly. 
 
 " No, no, quite the contrary, though it 
 appeared a grand place to me because I 
 saw it through the eyes of youth. It is a 
 small town on the outskirts of Belgium, 
 and not far from the famous forest of 
 Ardennes. Ah ! they were happy days 
 I spent at Reve, Monsieur, I have had 
 none like them since ; and never shall 
 again." 
 
 " The days of our childhood are usually 
 the happiest," rejoined Captain Romilly, 
 whose pipe had awakened in him quite a 
 moralising mood, " when we have no dun- 
 ning letters, nor tailors' bills, nor any-
 
 16G VKROXIQUE. 
 
 thinnr of that kind to bore and disturb 
 
 o 
 U8 ! 
 
 " My troubles have not lain in the way 
 of tailors' bills, as Monsieur may well 
 believe," said the priest smiling, " but they 
 have had the power to affect me neverthe- 
 less. I quitted Reve with hopes of rising 
 high in the profession I had chosen, and I 
 have lived to see my hopes disappointed, 
 and to find myself in a position little better 
 than that I left behind me/' 
 
 " You were ambitious, man pere" said 
 Romilly knocking the ashes from his pipe 
 against the bedpost. 
 
 " I was : I don't deny it, but the feeling 
 was instilled in me. My father was a 
 small avocat in the town of Pteve, and his 
 greatest wish had always been that one of 
 his three sons should enter the church. 
 My eldest brother, Pierre, flatly refused to 
 do so ; he took a wife from the bourgeoisie 
 instead, and entered into partnership 
 with his father-in-law ; the second, Henri, 
 as soon as the proposal was made to him, 
 ran away from home and enlisted in the
 
 SAINTE VERONIQUE. 167 
 
 French army ; there remained, therefore, 
 but myself, le pauvre petit Joseph, to fulfil 
 the wish of my father's heart. So, fearing 
 I should follow the example of my brothers, 
 he took me early in hand, and pointing out 
 to me all the glory and honour of serving 
 in the church, expatiated on how I might 
 rise to wear the robes of a cardinal, and 
 officiate in the grand cathedrals of our 
 cities. I was shown all the pomp and 
 splendour of the profession, Monsieur ; I 
 saw the priests in their gold and silver 
 vestments, followed by their attendants 
 and bowed down to by the people, and I 
 thought as my father told me, that I should 
 rise to be the same some day, and receive 
 like honour. I little dreamt it would come 
 to this/ 7 said Pere Joseph as with a comical 
 glance his eye roved round the barely 
 furnished apartment, " and a darned black 
 gown. However, doubtless it is for the 
 best \" 
 
 "But how did you get so separated from 
 all your people ¥' demanded Romilly. 
 
 " When a man has taken a vow of
 
 1GS rfeONIQUE. 
 
 implicit obedience, Monsieur, what can I 
 do ? I belong to the order of Jesuits, and 
 I suppose those in authority had their own 
 reasons for sending me out of the country, 
 for try as I would, I have never been able 
 to get back to it again. First, I was 
 ordered to Ireland, and much against my 
 wishes remained there for ten years, during 
 which time my youngest sister Justine, 
 who had joined me, maiTied her soldier 
 and followed him to Bengal ; and just as 
 I was hoping to revisit my own place and 
 people, I was drafted out to India also, 
 and have been here ever since. Thirty 
 years is a long time to be expatriated, 
 Monsieur !" 
 
 " It is, indeed," said Romilly, who could 
 not help recalling his own impatience over 
 an expatriation of three months, " and have 
 you never seen one of your family since 
 then ?" 
 
 " Not one, Monsieur ! except little Yero- 
 nique there, who was born to her parents 
 after ten years of wedded life, and cut 
 short their happiness just as they thought
 
 SAINTE VERONIQTJE. 1G9 
 
 it was o'oinor to be increased. But that's 
 generally the way in this world. " 
 
 " Have you made no efforts to rejoin 
 your family, Pere Joseph f 
 
 "It is out of my power, monfils, I am 
 bound to do only as I am bid." 
 
 " But you are happy here, are you 
 not V said Bomilly dubiously. 
 
 The priest shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " I am contented, Monsieur ; were I to 
 say more I should speak falsely. My 
 parents are dead — my brothers and sisters 
 scattered — why should I now desire to 
 return to a place where probably all is 
 changed from when I knew it ? But for 
 one reason I could almost wish that my 
 days might end where they most probably 
 will, in this little settlement/' 
 
 " And what is that V 
 
 " Veronique, Monsieur ; I cannot bear to 
 think that when I die, Veronique shall be 
 left alone hi this country, to marry whom 
 she will, or to live how she may. For the 
 child's sake I would yet return to my 
 native land ; for my own, I would lay my
 
 170 I KUONIQUE. 
 
 disappointed hopes in the grave as soon i 
 may be," and Pere Joseph began to take 
 long pulls from his pipe, and look more 
 solemn than Gordon Rom illy remembered 
 to have seen him do before. 
 
 " Mon pere, thou shalt not speak of the 
 grave, nor anything so melancholy," said 
 the caressing voice of Veronique as she 
 came and laid her hands about the old 
 man's shoulders. " Thou art not to die, 
 nor anything of the sort ; but to take me 
 home to Reve some day, and let me say a 
 prayer with thee beside thy mother's grave. 
 How canst thou talk so ? Thou wilt make 
 Monsieur have — what is it that thou callest 
 them ? — les d tables bleus, if thou canst not 
 find some more cheerful subject to discourse 
 upon. And how is he to sleep, or take his 
 rest at all, if thou talkest to him all the 
 day ?" and Veronique smoothed down Gor- 
 don Romilly's bed clothes, and changed the 
 bandages about his head, with quite the 
 air of a nurse who imagines that her patient 
 has been injured by some meddling inter- 
 ference in her absence.
 
 SAINTE VERONIQUE. 171 
 
 "Eh! bien, ma 'petite" said the priest 
 good-humouredly, as he rose from his chair 
 and laid his pipe on one side, " if thou 
 sayst it must be so, it must be so ; and 
 we will leave Monsieur to try and get a 
 little sleep. Sleep will do you more good 
 than any medicine, Monsieur, for your 
 nerves have been shaken as well as your 
 body, and nothing but rest will effect their 
 cure. Try to sleep, and by the time your 
 friends return I hope they will find you 
 considerably better." 
 
 " Dormez bien, Monsieur" said Vero- 
 nique as she softly drew down the blind, 
 and prepared to follow her uncle from the 
 room, " et que le bon St. Hubert vous ait en 
 sa sainte garde" 
 
 Gordon Romilly would rather Sainte 
 Veronique had remained to watch over him 
 herself, for he was becoming more and 
 more interested in the priest and his pretty 
 niece ; but he acknowledged the wisdom 
 of their advice, and having lain for some 
 little while longer, perfectly certain that
 
 172 VERONIQUE. 
 
 he could never comply with it, suddenly 
 dropped his eyelids over his heavy eyes, 
 and became profoundly unconscious to all 
 external things.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE PROSTRATE A.D.C. 
 
 " Holloa, Romilly ! here we are again ; 
 we've bagged the tiger and no mistake. 
 How are yon, old fellow ? will yon be able 
 to come on with us, to-night?" shonted 
 Captain Homer, with no manner of discre- 
 tion, from the front of the priest's bunga- 
 low. 
 
 " Silence, Monsieur ! il dort !" exclaimed 
 Veronique, as, with her finger on her lip, 
 she rushed out to quiet the intruder. Cap- 
 tain Homer understood the action, though 
 he did not understand the words. 
 
 "I don't know what on earth you're 
 talking about, Mam'selle, but can't I see 
 Captain Romilly ? is he worse V 
 
 "He is asleep, Monsieur," replied Vero-
 
 174 I KRONIQUE. 
 
 nique, " and if you make so great a noi 
 you will awake him I" 
 
 " I say Powell, Eomilly's asleep I" said 
 Homer, in not much softer a key, as he 
 turned to his friends — 
 
 " No, I'm not I" thundered Gordon Ro- 
 milly, through the closed door of his apart- 
 ment, " Come in, Homer, I want to speakto 
 you! 
 
 He had been roused from his doze, which 
 had lasted until five o'clock, by the vocifer- 
 ous greeting of his companion, and was at 
 once all anxiety to hear what success had 
 attended their day's undertaking. 
 
 " Oh ! he's awake, it's all right," ex- 
 claimed Homer, as he jumped off his pony, 
 and prepared to enter the bungalow, " I 
 won't be a minute, Powell, but I must just 
 see how the fellow is, and tell him of our 
 luck." 
 
 " If he's awake, it is you who have 
 waked him, Monsieur," said Veronique, as, 
 slightly pouting, she walked back to her 
 seat. 
 
 " Well, Romilly ! how do you feel now . '
 
 THE PROSTRATE A.D.C. 175 
 
 said Homer, as he entered the presence of 
 the A.D.C. " Will you be able to go out 
 with us after ibex to-morrow — it will be our 
 last day, remember, and we want to make 
 it a success." 
 
 " I wish I may be able to turn myself in 
 bed by to-morrow," groaned the unfortu- 
 nate Bomilly, " I'm so stiff, I can hardly 
 bear the weight of my coverings ; and yet 
 if I he in one position for ten minutes 
 together, I ache all over. But have you 
 got the tiger ?" 
 
 "To be sure we have ; it was the most 
 splendid thing you ever saw — I wish you 
 had been with us, but I can't possibly wait 
 to tell you of it now, I promised Powell I 
 wouldn't stay a minute, for we've got some 
 way before us, still, and he doesn't want to 
 be benighted on the hills a second time. 
 But to-morrow — " 
 
 " Oh ! can't you stay a little longer ?" 
 said BomiHy, in a voice of disappoint- 
 ment. " I want so much to hear all that 
 you've been doing, and how you set about 
 it !" .
 
 1 76 VJORONIQUE. 
 
 " Cannot we persuade you, Monsieur, to 
 stay the night with your friend ?" inter- 
 posed Pere Joseph, who had entered the 
 room during their colloquy ; "we have a 
 bed at your service, if you will accept it, 
 and you might join the other gentlemen at 
 any place appointed, in the morning. Cap- 
 tain Homilly will be veiy glad of your pre- 
 sence." 
 
 Romilly's eyes said " stay/' and Captain 
 Ptomer only hesitated for fear of the trouble 
 he should cause. 
 
 " I would stop, directly," he stammered, 
 " only it must be such a bore for you and 
 your niece to have a lot of strangers knock- 
 ing about the place." 
 
 " Monsieur !" said Pere Joseph, with that 
 courtly air which he sometimes assumed, 
 and which bespoke his foreign breeding, 
 " you have but to glance round this wilder- 
 ness, to believe me when I say that to 
 secure the occasional company of one or two 
 guests is a real luxury to us. I dwell in 
 these solitudes because I must ; not because 
 I prefer it : and if you will consent to en-
 
 THE PKOSTRATE A.D.C. 177 
 
 liven them with your presence for a few 
 hours, we shall be the debtors, and not 
 yourself." 
 
 " Hang it ! I can't refuse to stay after 
 that \" whispered Homer to Romilly ; so 
 having given a brief explanation to his 
 companions, and made an agreement where 
 to meet them on the following morning, he 
 returned to the bedside of the A.D.C, 
 while Newland and Powell rode home to the 
 Avalanche Bungalow. 
 
 " And now tell me all about the tiger \" 
 said Romilly, as soon as they .were together 
 again, " Where is the brute ? and whose 
 shot brought him down V 
 
 " I believe the honour is divided between 
 us," laughed Homer, " but it was on this 
 wise. After we had parted with you, this 
 morning, the old l shikarry' conducted us 
 about three miles from this, and then we 
 had to dismount and walk about a mile 
 further on to where there was a large, thick 
 sholah, between the cleft of two hills. The 
 man declared that the tiger was lying 
 asleep a few paces within the sholah, but. 
 
 vol. i. 12
 
 178 VERONIQUK. 
 
 David said it was not safe for any one to 
 venture in, and so he gathered some large 
 stones, and threw them as far as he could 
 into the bushes, to see what he could rouse 
 by that means. We were all waiting out- 
 side, with our guns on full cock, but really 
 not in the least expecting that the brute 
 was so close at hand, when, after a larger 
 stone or a longer throw than before, out he 
 came into the very midst of us, with a 
 spring like a huge cat. I fired at once, 
 and it was very lucky I didn't kill some- 
 body, for just as I pulled the trigger, that 
 fool of a young ' shikarry/ with a yell of 
 terror at the sight of the tiger, rushed 
 against me, and knocked me right over on 
 my back, upon a heap of stones. I was up 
 again in a minute, but the poor brute was 
 already disabled ; Newland had put a bullet 
 into his shoulder, and Powell another into 
 his throat, and he was lying over on his 
 side, panting, snarling, and lashing his tail 
 at us. There was nothing left to be done 
 but to walk up as close to his head as one 
 dared, and put an end to his pain. It was
 
 THE PROSTRATE A.D.C. 1 79 
 
 all over a great deal too soon for me, but it 
 was jolly excitement whilst it lasted. David 
 had not the chance of a shot at him, and 
 the only one of us who was hurt was the 
 coward of a ' shikarry/ who tumbled over 
 into a i nullah/ in his flight, and c barked ' 
 his shins in a most glorious manner." 
 
 " How I wish I had been there," sighed 
 Romilly, "however, it's no use wishing. 
 This confounded fall will cut me out of all 
 enjoyment for the rest of our trip. How 
 large is the tiger V 
 
 " Not very large ! about eight feet from 
 tip to tail, but beautifully marked, and in 
 prime condition — we are going to toss up 
 for the skin, for we really don't know whose 
 by right it should be — I hope I shall get 
 it." 
 
 "I'd have a hunting suit made of it, 
 were I you." 
 
 " Not I ! a young fellow lost his life up- 
 country some years ago, by that means. 
 He had had a suit made of cheetah-skin, 
 thinking in consequence to get nearer to 
 his game, and one of his brother officers, 
 
 12—2
 
 180 vKRoxjori:. 
 
 catching a gleam of it through the jungle 
 foliage, mistook him for a cheetah, and shot 
 him dead. No tiger suits for me, thank 
 you, Romilly ! you'll be trying your maiden 
 hand on me, if I do." 
 
 " It will be a long time before I try my 
 hand on anything again, I am afraid/' said 
 the A.D.C., ruefully. 
 
 " Nonsense ! you mustn't be so ' blue/ 
 Shall I write home to your friends, and tell 
 them of your precarious situation V 
 
 " I wish you would ! perhaps his lordship 
 might be induced thereby to make a small 
 addition to my usual allowance in order to 
 defray the expenses of the doctor's bill !" 
 
 " Oh ! if that's your game, why not carry 
 the joke a little further, and say you're 
 dead at once. I've heard of a scamp in 
 these parts, who had got so much money 
 out of the home powers, by constant repre- 
 sentations of illness, that at last they re- 
 fused to credit his assertions any longer, 
 and only sent condolences in return for his 
 pathetic letters. So, reduced to extremi- 
 ties, he got a friend to write to his hard-
 
 THE PROSTRATE A.D.C. 1S1 
 
 hearted relations, announcing his premature 
 death, and requesting they would send a 
 remittance to defray his burial expenses, 
 which they accordingly did. What became 
 of the gentleman after he had spent his 
 funeral-money, I never heard, but I think 
 he deserved to be supported for his inge- 
 nuity.' ' 
 
 As they were amusing themselves over 
 this anecdote, Yeronique appeared at the 
 door to announce that tea was ready, at 
 which meal Captain Homer made himself 
 so facetious, that David and the priest 
 were soon laughing as heartily as Romilly 
 had done before them, and the A.D.C, 
 with his bed-room door open and his mouth 
 full, almost forgot his aching bones as he 
 joined in the general merriment. Only 
 Yeronique seemed to regard the new-comer 
 with distrust, almost amounting to distaste : 
 she was jealous of the inspiriting influence 
 he exercised over her patient, although she 
 did not sufficiently recognise the feeling to 
 acknowledge it to herself. 
 
 " Why does your friend call eggs ' hoofs/
 
 182 VhlRONIQUE. 
 
 and say 'let's parley voo, Mam'selle,' 
 every time I speak English to him ? she 
 enquired with knitted brows of the A.D.C., 
 as she brought him his second cup of 
 coffee. " He speaks good English, and we 
 can understand him ; why doesn't he keep 
 to his own language V 
 
 " Because he wants to have some fun 
 with you," replied Romilly, who was secretly 
 pleased at the dislike she evinced to Captain 
 Romer. 
 
 " I don't like that sort of fun," said 
 Veronique, shortly. 
 
 " It isn't everyone who can speak such 
 beautiful French as I can, you see," said 
 Romilly, archly ; "mine is pure Parisian, 
 is it not, Mademoiselle ?" 
 
 The girl cast down a smile upon him, a 
 contradictory smile, but a very lenient 
 
 one. 
 
 " You speak better than your friend !" 
 she said, evasivelv. 
 
 "Now, Moosoo" cried Romer, as he 
 stood up after his tea, " I feel all the better 
 for your kind attentions. There's nothing
 
 THE PROSTRATE A.D.C. 183 
 
 like a good meal to make a man feel at 
 charity with himself and the world ; and 
 I begin already to experience pricks of 
 compunction for having helped to kill the 
 poor tiger." 
 
 "Don't do that, Monsieur/ 5 said David, 
 laughing, "for I warrant he would have 
 had no compunction whatever at making a 
 meal off you." 
 
 " Well, I suppose not, and who's to 
 blame him ? If there's one thing I despise 
 above another, it is the man who can't eat 
 himself, nor let his friends eat. It's very 
 evident to me, Moosoo, that you don't be- 
 long to the same tribe as my friend Dr. 
 Baddell, in the cantonment yonder, who 
 cuts down the provisions for himself and 
 his household so short, that he has been 
 known on more than one occasion to be 
 forced to eat his own words ?" 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! Monsieur," roared the priest, 
 " airy nourishment, upon my faith ; but 
 very hard to digest, sometimes." 
 
 " You speak truth, but what do you 
 think of the digestive powers of his poor
 
 134 VKItOXIQUE. 
 
 horse, whose allowance of ' gram ' was 
 diminished, day by day, until one night, 
 rendered desperate by hunger, he first eat 
 up the whole of his bed, and then devoured 
 the l joul ' with which he was covered V 
 
 "Like the rattlesnake in the Zoological 
 Gardens, who swallowed her blanket," said 
 Romilly. 
 
 " Exactly so, the only difference being 
 that the blanket re-appeared after a few 
 days' seclusion; but Dr. Baddells 'joul' 
 was never seen again I" 
 
 " How hot your head is, Monsieur," said 
 Veronique, as she dipped Captain Romilly s 
 bandages in cold water, and replaced them 
 about his wounded forehead. 
 
 " It does ache a little," he said, wearily. 
 
 " There is too much noise and talking 
 going on in the next room," replied the 
 girl. " Let me close the door, Monsieur, 
 and try to go to sleep again." 
 
 " No ! no ! I should not be able to 
 sleep a wink at night," he answered, 
 hastily. " The fact is, Mademoiselle, I 
 present so ugly an appearance with these
 
 THE PKOSTRATE A.D.C. 185 
 
 bandages about my head, that I frighten 
 you, and you want to shut me out of 
 sight/' 
 
 She looked at him for a moment without 
 speaking ; then, pulling the bedclothes 
 straight, and tucking them in at the side, 
 passed into the next room. 
 
 These little quiet attentions on her part 
 were very attractive to Captain Romilly ; 
 he liked to be thus taken possession of, and 
 gently rebuked when he was forward, and 
 coaxed into good behaviour when refractory. 
 He had alreadv begun to consider the at- 
 tendance of Veronique about his pillow a 
 necessary thing, to think the room looked 
 empty when she was gone, and to feel him- 
 self more easy in her presence — and he ex- 
 cused the fact to himself on the score that 
 women were born for nurses, and understood 
 the art by intuition. But Captain Eomer 
 volunteered to be his nurse that night ; he 
 had stayed behind, he said, for the sole pur- 
 pose, and refusing all offers of a comfortable 
 bed, avowed his intention of lying down on 
 the floor of Captain Romilly 's room. It
 
 186 VHROXIOUE. 
 
 was in vain that the priest and David 
 offered to sit up with the A.D.C. them- 
 selves, and that Veronique, who seemed most 
 anxious that Eomer should be ousted from 
 his position, declared that the room was 
 much too small for two people to sleep in, 
 and that the patient could not possibly need 
 any attendance. If they had not given 
 him a mattress, he would have lain on the 
 bare boards ; and so, in deference to the 
 rights of hospitality, they were compelled 
 to let their guest do as he liked. But 
 Veronique was so very particular in im- 
 pressing upon Captain Eomilly that if he 
 wished his head to be any better in the 
 morning, he must not talk further that 
 evening, that as soon as the final good- 
 nights were said, and the members of the 
 priest's family had betaken themselves up- 
 stairs, her interference called forth some 
 trite remarks from Captain Romer. 
 
 " I say, Romilly, what does that little 
 French girl mean by looking at me as if I 
 meant to eat you ? What earthly difference 
 can it make to her whether your head .
 
 THE PROSTRATE A.D.C. 187 
 
 well or not ? As if it wasn't of twice as 
 much consequence to me as to anybody 
 else. She's rather pretty when you can 
 get a good view of her face, but confoun- 
 dedly ' cheeky/ that's my opinion of 
 her." 
 
 " Like all her sex !" responded Eomilly, 
 meanly evading the argument, like most of 
 his, when a woman is concerned in it. "I 
 daresay I'm a bit of a bore to her, lying 
 here to be waited on, and she'll be glad to 
 see me well enough to walk out of the cot- 
 tage door ; however, don't let's waste our 
 time talking about her, Homer, I want to 
 ask if you could manage to send over my 
 things from the Avalanche Bungalow to- 
 morrow, because I must have them if I'm 
 to stay here a day or two longer." 
 
 " Is there any chance of that ?" enquired 
 Homer, with a lengthened face. 
 
 " Well, you see, I can't move ; the 
 question is how soon I shall be able to do 
 
 SO { 
 
 " Won't you see a doctor ?" 
 
 " Where would be the use ? I'm only
 
 188 VERONIQUE. 
 
 bruised, and the priest's lotion will bring 
 me round as soon as anything else." 
 
 " It's such a bore it should have happened 
 so/' said Komer, grumbling, " for I shan't 
 have another chance of going out with you, 
 Eomilly. We must return to Ootacamund 
 the day after to-morrow, and my leave will 
 be up next week. Powell is going down 
 about the same time, so we've agreed to 
 travel together, and take a couple of days' 
 shooting at Bandypoor on our way, and I 
 had quite hoped you would have accom- 
 panied us so far ; it's just at the foot of the 
 
 1 ghaut.' 
 
 " Vain are the hopes of man !" exclaimed 
 
 the A.D.C. 
 
 "You seem to take it uncommonly 
 quietly," rejoined Captain Homer, rather 
 disposed to resent his friend's passiveness. 
 
 " How else can I take it, my dear fellow, 
 tied hand and foot as I am ? As soon as 
 I can walk by myself again, I shall only 
 be too glad to rejoin you anywhere ; but 
 till then, I suppose I am a prisoner here." 
 
 " Well, I've got to be up early, so I'll
 
 THE PROSTRATE A.D.C. 189 
 
 say good-night to you," replied Captain 
 Homer, ensconcing himself under his bed- 
 clothes, when he was soon fast asleep. 
 
 Gordon Rom illy could not follow his 
 example ; the unusual siesta he had in- 
 dulged in during the afternoon had made 
 him wakeful, and his aching back and 
 burning forehead rendered him doubly so. 
 He tossed about his narrow couch, groaning 
 at every fresh movement, till he had 
 rendered it thoroughly uncomfortable ; and 
 then, when he called Captain Homer to his 
 assistance, they got the bed-clothes into 
 such a puzzle between them, that they 
 gave it up as a bad job, and ended by 
 putting them all back in a heap, the weight 
 of which was almost intolerable to the 
 A.D.C. ; s tender back and shoulders. He 
 lay, lamenting his condition, and reviling 
 Captain Homer's hearty snores, until the 
 seemingly interminable night had passed, 
 and the grey dawn appeared through the 
 flimsy blind, which alone protected the 
 little casement ; and then he fell into an 
 uneasy troubled sleep for a couple of hours,
 
 190 YKRONIQUE. 
 
 and woke to find that his companion had 
 risen, and that the morning sun would 
 have been streaming in upon Ins face, had 
 not some one pinned up a dark cloth across 
 the bed-room window. Some one also had 
 arranged the bedclothes comfortably for 
 him, and placed a sweet fresh rose, tied up 
 with a sprig of scented verbena, upon his 
 pillow. 
 
 Gordon Romilly had scarcely had time 
 to note these changes, before the rustling 
 which he made in turning, brought foot- 
 steps to the outside of his door, and he 
 heard the voice of Veronique asking if she 
 might enter, and as soon as he had given 
 her permission, she stood before him with 
 a cup of coffee in her hand. 
 
 "You have not slept well, Monsieur," 
 she said, " I knew you wouldn't ; and no- 
 thing is so nice to take, after a bad night, 
 as coffee." 
 
 " How did you guess that I should not 
 sleep ?" enquired Romilly, as he proved his 
 acquiescence in her sentiments by drinking 
 her coffee.
 
 THE PROSTRATE A.D.C. 191 
 
 " Because your friend is too boisterous, 
 too vif for you," she replied without smiling. 
 " I am glad he goes to-day ; you will get 
 well sooner without him, Monsieur. I am 
 quite sure he has never had an aching 
 head, he cannot know what it is." 
 
 " No ! by Jove ! nor an aching heart 
 either," said Captain Romilly, sentimen- 
 tally. " If you can cure one, Mademoiselle, 
 perhaps you can cure the other." 
 
 " I know of an excellent remedy for 
 either of them," replied Veronique de- 
 murely. 
 
 " Do you ? what is that ?" demanded the 
 A.D.C. 
 
 " Silence, Monsieur !" she answered, 
 placing her finger on her lip, but as she 
 said so, Veronique laughed.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A TOUCH OF THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER. 
 
 Captain Romer had rejoined his friends, 
 
 and sent Romilly's belongings to him from 
 the Avalanche Bungalow, by a native 
 messenger, together with a brief note to 
 say that he had brought down an ibex and 
 a samba, " all by himself ;" and that 
 they should return to Ootacamund the 
 following morning, where he hoped that 
 the A.D.C. would soon be able to follow 
 them. 
 
 But this event did not take place so 
 soon as either of them anticipated. It 
 was three days, notwithstanding the 
 priest's liniments, before Captain Romilly 
 could even leave his bed ; three days 
 before, with the aid of a stick, and Vcro-
 
 THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER. 193 
 
 nique's arm, he could hobble, laughing at 
 his comical situation, yet groaning with 
 pain the while, to the chair opposite Pere 
 Joseph s by the sitting-room fireside, and 
 a couple more, before he could stand up- 
 right and walk like other men. The 
 violent contusions he had incurred, left 
 him for awhile, as stiff and helpless as 
 though he had suffered from rheumatic 
 fever ; and he felt the effects of them for 
 many a day after he had almost ceased to 
 remember their existence. During this 
 period of seclusion Veronique was con- 
 stantly by his side, waiting on him as 
 though she had been his servant, (for 
 although his personal attendant had been 
 sent with his clothes, Captain Romilly had 
 a horror of being touched by a native, and 
 shrunk visibly even from David s handling, 
 a fact which the young man was not slow 
 to observe ;) and short as the time was, he 
 had more opportunity during its course of 
 reading the various phases of the girls 
 character, than months of ordinary ac- 
 quaintanceship would have afforded him- 
 VOL. I. 13
 
 ] 94 VERONJQUE. 
 
 She was open as the day, but fitful as the 
 channel waves ; and every emotion which 
 she experienced found immediate reflection 
 in her countenance, which changed as 
 many times in the twelve hours as the 
 shadows of the sun. She was warm- 
 hearted, and passionate as her Irish father : 
 piquante and coquettish as her Belgian 
 mother ; but over all spread the influence 
 of the pure country life she had led upon 
 the Neilgherry hills, which neutralised 
 much that might have been dangerous to 
 her simplicity, and made that natural 
 which would otherwise have been af- 
 fected. 
 
 "Why do you always call me Made- 
 moiselle V she said on the second day of 
 Captain Romilly's sojourn with them, as 
 having performed some trifling office for 
 him, she lingered by his bedside, plaiting 
 her apron between her fingers, instead of 
 leaving the room. " No one else does so, 
 and it sounds so strange." 
 
 " But what else shall I call vou ?" he 
 enquired, — " Miss Moore ?"
 
 THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER. 195 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! non" with a merry laugh, 
 " ce serait encore phis drole" 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 " Call me Veronique, Monsieur ; I am 
 known by no other name !" 
 
 " Very well, Mademoiselle ; (Veronique, 
 I mean,) I only waited for your permission. 
 But then, you must promise on your part, 
 no longer to call me Monsieur." 
 
 " I cannot speak your proper name," she 
 said, shaking her head, " Rome-eely ; it is 
 too long and hard for me, Monsieur." 
 
 " But you must call me by my Christian 
 name, Veronique." 
 
 " Comment ! Gor-don ?" she exclaimed, 
 raising her dark eye-brows, " c'est pire en- 
 core I cela me fendrait la houche jusqu'aux 
 oreilles." 
 
 He laughed at her dashing so suddenly 
 into French ; a certain sign with Veronique 
 that she was becoming excited over her 
 subject ; and assured her that he would 
 accept of no excuses, and that if he were 
 to call her by her Christian name, she must 
 learn to pronounce his. And so after a 
 
 13—2
 
 196 VERONIQUE. 
 
 good many blushes and false starts, she 
 made a compromise with her guest, and 
 called him, " Monsieur Gor-don," from 
 that day. 
 
 But however pleased Veronique might 
 be to wait upon the handsome aide-de- 
 camp, and however assured Gordon Romilly 
 of the welcome accorded him by both Pere 
 Joseph and his neice, there was one mem- 
 ber of the priest's household who would 
 have gladly contemplated his charms from 
 a greater distance, and that was the young 
 native David. An instinct, unrecognised 
 by either man, had rendered these two 
 antagonistic from the commencement of 
 their acquaintance ; and the more intimate 
 Captain Romilly became with Veronique, 
 the more did her adopted brother regard 
 him with mingled dislike and fear. 
 
 "What has induced the Englishman to 
 change his mode of addressing thee V 
 Romilly overheard him say one day, in 
 French to Veronique. " Didst thou not 
 run quick enough when he called thee
 
 THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER. 197 
 
 4 Mademoiselle/ that now he must needs 
 use thy baptismal name V 
 
 "I know not," answered the girl care- 
 lessly. " What does it matter ? one name 
 is as good as another." 
 
 " Then, why dost thou call him, ' Mon- 
 sieur Gor-don/ instead of plain ' Monsieur ¥ 
 It is not the English custom, Veronique." 
 
 " I know nought about the custom," 
 replied Veronique as she moved away from 
 him ; " Monsieur asked me to do so, et cela 
 on est e<jal" with which words Gordon 
 Komilly heard her close the conference, by 
 marching up to her own room. 
 
 He had suspected before that David was 
 jealous of his intimacy with Veronique, and, 
 now that he was sure of it, the discovery 
 only made him anxious to cement the inti- 
 macy further. As the days went on, and. 
 the A.D.C/s recovery progressed, the young 
 native left no means untried — short of plain 
 speaking — by which he might get rid of their 
 guest. He suggested that a little whole- 
 some exercise and change of air would ex- 
 pedite the cure ; he volunteered to procure
 
 198 VKRONIQUE. 
 
 a " palanquin ' and bearers from the can- 
 tonment, in which Captain Ptomilly might 
 be carried back to Ootacamund ; he even 
 walked in there himself, and gave such an 
 improved account of the A.D.CVs condition 
 to his friend Ptomer, that Romillv was im- 
 mediately beset by notes of entreaty that 
 he would make haste and rejoin them be- 
 fore they set out on their trip to Bandy- 
 poor. But all David's machinations to oust 
 Captain Bomilly from his position before he 
 chose to quit it proved fruitless. He was 
 too comfortable where he was, and too in- 
 terested in his new acquaintances to have 
 any intention of leaving them before he w 
 absolutely obliged ; and, secure of the smiles 
 of Veronique, and the hospitable inclina- 
 tions of her uncle, he could afford to laugh 
 at poor Davids jealousy, which he con- 
 sidered, both on account of his position and 
 his blood, to be but another instance of his 
 'd — d impertinence." But though tl 
 native appeared to make no secret of his 
 feelings on the subject, they were evidently 
 unsuspected by any one but his rival.
 
 THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER. 199 
 
 " Tell us something about Reve, won 
 pere" Veronique would say coaxingly of 
 an evening, after Gordon Romilly had made 
 his re-appearance in their family circle. 
 " Relate to Monsieur Gor-don, how the 
 good little sisters in the maison religieuse 
 used to dance and play about in the summer 
 evenings with the children whom they 
 taught ; and how, when the sacrilege was 
 committed at the cross-roads where the 
 large crucifix stood, and some ' vilain ' 
 robbed the box and threw the blessed cross 
 upon the ground, the sisters rose two hours 
 earlier every morning for a twelvemonth 
 after, that they might restore, by their 
 earnings for needlework, what the robbers 
 had destroyed." 
 
 " Quel idee !" would David sarcastically 
 utter from his corner, " as if Monsieur cared, 
 Veronique, to hear what happened at Reve 
 fifty years ago. What interest can the 
 childhood of notre pere possess for him ? 
 Monsieur is not one of us I" 
 
 " Tais-toi," the girl would answer sharply 
 in her turn, for she did not like rebuke,
 
 200 VERONIQUE. 
 
 and took it least well when offered on any 
 subject concerning Gordon Pomilly; "what 
 dost thou know of Monsieur Gor-don's likes 
 or dislikes ? Let Pere Joseph judge for 
 himself." 
 
 And then Captain Pomilly would assure 
 his host there was nothing he should like 
 better than to hear some stories of the past ; 
 and the priest would look gratified, and 
 Veronique triumphant ; and David would 
 retreat to the furthest end of the apartment 
 and smoke his pipe in silent misery. 
 
 " I have very little to tell, Monsieur," 
 Pere Joseph would commence, "but if you 
 should ever be near the spot, go to Peve, 
 and it will speak for itself. The bold hills 
 swelling on either side of the valley — aye ! 
 bold as some of these, and densely clothed 
 with vegetation — the bright river which 
 glided like a serpent through the green 
 fields, the tumbling water-falls spouting 
 from the rocks, and the infinite variety of 
 mosses, lichens, and ferns which peeped 
 from every cleft, make Peve in my remem- 
 brance an earthly paradise."
 
 THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER. 201 
 
 " It must have been beautiful," said 
 Homilly, who had no more artistic taste for 
 a fine view than he had consideration for 
 David's feelings ; but Veronique's eyes 
 were sparkling at the description, and 
 rewarded his affected enthusiasm with a 
 glance of gratitude. 
 
 " Then the town," continued the priest, 
 lost in a dream of the past — " I think as I 
 sit here, Monsieur, that I can see the town, 
 situated, as it was, upon a hill, with its 
 one long, steep, irregular street, in which 
 the houses of rich and poor, though placed 
 side by side, still seemed to amalgamate, 
 from being built of the same grey stone. 
 My fathers house stood in the centre of 
 the street, behind a row of iron palings. It 
 was always kept severely clean, that house. 
 My mother would not allow a speck of dust 
 to rest upon any part of her furniture, and 
 the ' salon ' was forbidden ground to us 
 children, even after we had attained to years 
 of discretion. The 'parquet' there was 
 always so polished and so bright, the 
 ' poSle ' such a miracle of shining blackness,
 
 202 v&Bomqxm. 
 
 and the embroidered white net curtains so 
 spotlessly white, that I was even afraid to 
 cross the room when summoned to it on 
 state occasions, and used to leave my 
 ' sabots ' in the hall outside." 
 
 " Bah ! I should not like to wear 
 1 sabots,' said Veronique, glancing at her 
 dainty feet. 
 
 " Thou wouldst] have been glad of them, 
 had thou been bom in Reve," replied her 
 uncle. " We never wore leather there ex- 
 cept to mass, and when we went to be 
 catechised by the priest." 
 
 " But tell of your visit to Briissen- 
 burgh, mon pere; when you went with 
 your mother to see your fathers family, 
 and were taken to the greatest church in 
 Belgium." 
 
 " Monsieur has doubtless been to Briis- 
 senburg himself, and seen Ste. Genevieve 
 Veronique," was the priest's answer ; "all 
 are not such mountain cats as thou, re- 
 member !" 
 
 " Have you been there ?" enquired the 
 girl, with a look at Gordon Romilly.
 
 THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER. 203 
 
 "I have been at Briissenburgh, Vero- 
 nique, but I do not remember to have 
 visited Ste. Genevieve." 
 
 " Then you missed a grand sight, Mon- 
 sieur/' Pere Joseph replied ; "as grand a 
 sight as your St. Paul's, or Westminster 
 Abbey. I think there is nothing makes a 
 man feel so small, and so little contented 
 with himself as to stand in one of those 
 magnificent buildings, which are but bricks 
 and mortar, and yet had their commence- 
 ment ages before he began, and will stand, 
 firm and unshaken, ages after he has cram- 
 bled into dust. Ste. Genevieve is a church 
 to make one think thus, Monsieur. Of vast 
 size, the light is admitted only through 
 exquisitely-painted windows, each one of 
 which is surrounded by a chapel, rich in 
 fresco, carvings, and stone work, and dedi- 
 cated to the tutelary saint. The altar and 
 its surroundings are things to dream of; 
 and the paintings, images, and other works 
 of art with which the church is adorned, 
 require a day's leisure to examine properly. 
 You should have seen Ste. Genevieve !"
 
 204 VKRONIQUE. 
 
 " I wish I had, and when I pass that 
 way again I will not forget to visit it." 
 
 " But tell of thy seeing the king and 
 queen in their carriage, mon pero" said 
 Veronique, who evidently considered that 
 sight a far finer one than Ste. Genevieve ; 
 " and of the little prince who now sits upon 
 the throne, riding about the park on his 
 pony, in a hat and beautiful white feather f 
 
 " Quiet, thou silly child !" replied Pere 
 Joseph, smiling. " Dost thou imagine that 
 Monsieur thinks as much about a tuft of 
 feathers as thyself? I tell such tales to 
 thee because thou art no better than a baby ; 
 but Monsieur would think I took him for 
 the same were I to repeat them now. Be- 
 sides, he has been to Briissenburgh, and 
 doubtless seen the royal family for him- 
 self!" 
 
 " The present king I have," said Bomilly, 
 amused at Veronique's look of wondering 
 incredulity at the news. 
 
 " Have you travelled much on the Con- 
 tinent, Monsieur V 9 
 
 " Pretty well ; but more in France and
 
 THE GBEEN-EYED MONSTER. 205 
 
 Germany than Belgium. But when I re- 
 turn home I am very likely to go there 
 again." 
 
 " And do you return to England soon ?" 
 
 The question was put by the priest ; but 
 Veronique awaited the answer in breathless 
 anxiety. 
 
 " I hope so ! I intend to go as soon as 
 ever I can/' 
 
 " Monsieur does not like this country, 
 then ?" 
 
 " Not at all — in fact I hate it, and am 
 doing all I can to get back to England 
 again." 
 
 " Ah, well ! For those who can afford it, 
 home is the place to live in !" replied Pere 
 Joseph with a sigh ; at which turn of the 
 conversation, Veronique s face would con- 
 siderably lengthen, and the eyes of David 
 glisten with delight. 
 
 But Gordon Romilly had yet to be intro- 
 duced to another phase of Veronique's 
 character, neither grave nor gay, which, 
 whilst it placed the girl in a new light be- 
 fore him, seemed to open his eyes to what
 
 206 vkronique. 
 
 he had half-hoped, and half-expected. It 
 was on the fourth day of his stay at the 
 priest's bungalow, when his back was so 
 much better that Veronique had persuaded 
 him to limp out into the sunny garden, and 
 to sit on a chair against the palisades whilst 
 she busied herself amongst her bees and 
 blossoms. 
 
 " I never saw such a profusion of roses in 
 my life before," he said, as he watched her 
 pull flower after flower from the variegated 
 hedge, and without causing any palpable 
 difference in its appearance, "do they grow 
 naturally, or have you cultivated them f 
 
 "Almost naturally, Monsieur Gor-don," 
 she answered, smiling, as she tossed a heap 
 cf white and pink beauties into his lap. 
 " We set the plants in the first instance, 
 of course, but they are never pruned, and 
 they bloom from January until December. 
 You have seen the garden hedges made of 
 them in the cantonment, have you not V* 
 
 "Yes! but I thought they must be no 
 end of trouble to keep up. But I find the 
 sweetest things in this country, Veroniq\u\"
 
 THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER. 207 
 
 he continued, with an expressive look in 
 the girl's face, " are those which run most 
 wild. The so-called cultivated part of the 
 scenery, to say nothing of the so-called 
 cultivated part of the community, is a 
 creat deal too tame for me." 
 
 She laughed softly and returned to her 
 occupation. She did not half understand 
 what Captain Romilly meant by his allusion, 
 but she knew that he was paying a compli- 
 ment to herself, and that was sufficient for 
 her appreciation of it. 
 
 " Veronique !" he exclaimed, presently, 
 " do come and look here ! What is this 
 long train of bullocks coming over the hills 
 from the direction of Sispard? Men too, 
 and, by Jove ! women ; who can they be V' 
 
 Veronique left her roses for a moment, 
 and came and stood by Captain Romilly 's 
 chair, shading her eyes with her hand 
 whilst she looked in the direction indicated. 
 
 " Those are * Brinjaries/ Monsieur Gor- 
 don, and their cattle are laden with grain. 
 They are passing here, on their way to 
 Ootacamund, where they will probably
 
 208 VERONIQUE. 
 
 part with most of the merchandise they 
 carry." 
 
 " And what are ' Brinjaries/ Veronique ? 
 you forget what a griffin I am." 
 
 " Gipsies, Monsieur Gor-don, or some- 
 thing like it. They are wandering tribes 
 whose chief wealth consists in cattle and 
 grain : and they are always travelling about 
 from place to place, disposing of, or ex- 
 changing it." 
 
 The long train of " Brinjaries ' which, 
 on account of the narrow pathway, was 
 compelled to journey very slowly, now filed 
 along the road at the bottom of the priests 
 garden, and as it passed, Captain Romilly 
 observed that though most of the men 
 made some kind of salutation to Veronique, 
 the women never raised their eyes at all, 
 but walked behind their lords and masters, 
 handsomely clothed and covered with gold 
 ornaments, but with looks strictly down- 
 cast, and hands meekly folded before them. 
 This was on account of the " Brinjaries' 
 laws, which, regarding their women, are 
 exceedingly stringent : so much so, that the
 
 THE GREEX-EYED MONSTER. 209 
 
 least breach of chastity on their part, is im- 
 mediately punished by death : a rule which 
 makes the fair sex (and some of the 
 " Brinjary ' ladies are very fair) uncom- 
 monly well behaved. 
 
 " Look at the little children packed upon 
 the bullocks, Monsieur Gor-don !" said 
 Veronique, as a load of brown urchins of all 
 shapes and sizes passed grinning before 
 them. " Some of these ' Brinjaries ' are 
 said to be very rich, and really one would 
 think so to see all the gold chains and 
 bangles which they wear." 
 
 " Why do all the women hold their heads 
 down ¥' demanded Roinilly, " I haven t 
 seen the face of a single one yet." 
 
 " They are not allowed to look about 
 them I" said Veronique, quickly, "it is 
 against their rules, and the men are very 
 strict with them/' 
 
 " What a shame," said Gordon Bomilly. 
 " I should like to catch one of the ladies 
 without her blue beard husband, and see 
 whether she would be so particular. By 
 Jove, that must be a pretty girl !" he ex- 
 
 vol. I. 14
 
 210 VERONIQUE. 
 
 claimed, as he pointed out one that was just 
 passing them, " what splendid hair she has, 
 and what a beautiful figure. Just stand a 
 little to one side, Veronique, I want to 
 have another look at her I" and apparently 
 forgetful of his stiff limbs, Captain Ptomilly 
 jumped on the seat of his chair, and leant 
 over the palisades to watch the retreating 
 form of the " Brinjary ' ; woman. 
 
 " Why, her hair is plaited with gold," he 
 continued, " and what an immense length 
 it must be, it hangs almost to her knees. 
 Do you think it can be all her own ? And 
 what pretty little feet she has. I expect 
 she must be a favourite wife, or, perhaps, a 
 bride, for the fringe on her cloth is twice as 
 deep as that of any other woman. I don't 
 suppose she can be more than sixteen, or 
 perhaps younger, eh, Veronique ? I wish 
 I could see her face." 
 
 Receiving no answer to his rhapsody, 
 Captain Rom illy turned to discover what 
 had become of his companion, and to his 
 astonishment, beheld her apparently busy 
 at the other end of the garden, and quite
 
 THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER. 211 
 
 beyond earshot of any of his remarks on 
 the pretty " Brinjary." 
 
 " Veronique !" he exclaimed, " why, when 
 did you run away ? I thought you were 
 close beside me ;" and then he descended 
 from his perch and found it a much more 
 troublesome operation than the ascension 
 had been. " Oh dear, oh dear ! how my 
 back does hurt me when I move. I really 
 don't believe I'm any better to-day. What 
 shall I do, Veronique, to make myself 
 well ?" 
 
 " Take exercise, Monsieur ; why don't 
 you walk into the cantonment and back ?" 
 
 " You are laughing at me, Mademoiselle 
 Veronique : you know I should be un- 
 able to accomplish that, unless, indeed, 
 you would give me your arm for a sup- 
 port." 
 
 " There is not much chance of that, Mon- 
 
 sieur." 
 
 " And why not ? Are you quite tired of 
 looking after me ?" 
 
 " I don't think you require any more 
 looking after. You can jump on a chair so 
 
 14—2
 
 212 VERONIQUE. 
 
 easily that your recovery must be nearly 
 perfect.' ' 
 
 " Have I offended you, Vcronique V 
 "Offended me, Monsieur?" with a little 
 glance of haughty surprise. "Mori Dieu ! 
 how could you have offended me ? You 
 must not imagine every time I follow my 
 household occupations that I have a cause 
 for offence. When you were helpless I was 
 glad to wait on you : now that you are so 
 far recovered you will not mind sometimes 
 waiting on yourself," and Vcronique dug 
 her spade vigorously into the flower-bed 
 and turned the mould up, all over the 
 A.D.C. s feet. 
 
 Captain Romilly was in one of those 
 dilemmas in which men who meddle with 
 the " unfair ' sex, occasionally find them- 
 selves, and for a little space he felt quite 
 bewildered. He saw that something had 
 occurred to annoy the girl before him, but 
 what it was he could not for the life of him, 
 imagine. He stood by her side for a few 
 seconds, thoughtfully pulling his moustache, 
 and wondering " why the deuce ' women
 
 THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER. 213 
 
 would be so unreasonable*; until seeing 
 that one of Veronique's long tresses of hair 
 had fallen over her shoulder in front and 
 was impeding her vision, he ventured to 
 touch it gently, with, the intention of 
 putting it back again. In a moment the 
 girl's dark, blue eyes had flashed fire at him, 
 and with a passionate gesture she seized 
 the heavy plait from his hand, and flung it 
 across her shoulder. 
 
 " N'y touchez pas !" she cried, indig- 
 nantly, " ma chevelure n'est pas assez longue 
 pour vous plaire !" and before Gordon 
 Bomilly could remonstrate with her petu- 
 lance, or deny her words, she had burst 
 into a flood of tears, and run away into the 
 house to hide them. The circumstance 
 flattered his conceit, already excited by her 
 evident admiration of him, and he looked 
 forward with anxietv to the moment when 
 he should see her again. But Veronique 
 did not re-appear until the evening meal 
 was served, and then she bore no traces, 
 either in looks or manner, of the emotion 
 she had passed through. But Captain
 
 214 VERONIQUE. 
 
 Romilly could not help smiling to himself 
 as he observed that, for the first time, she 
 wore her luxuriant hair, (which, unplaited, 
 reached considerably below her waist) loose 
 about her shoulders, and the silent compli- 
 ments thereon, which the A.D.C. paid her, 
 with his eyes, signed a tacit peace be- 
 tween them, whilst it augmented the un- 
 easy sensations of poor David. 
 
 But, on the following day, unable longer, 
 either on account of his horse or himself, to 
 extend with any decency his visit, Captain 
 Romilly, to the secret gratification of the 
 native, and the sincere regret of Pere 
 Joseph and his niece, returned to his 
 quarters at the Ootacamund Hotel.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE OOTACAMUND POST-OFFICE. 
 
 Captain Eomilly did not return to the 
 cantonment in the very best of humours, 
 either with himself or the world at large. 
 In the first place he was vexed to think 
 that he had injured his horse, a valuable 
 animal, for which he had paid an exorbi- 
 tant sum of money, extravagance being one 
 of the most shining points in the luminous 
 character of the A.D.C. It was true that 
 the Arab was just able to limp back slowly 
 to Ootacamund, but he promised to be un- 
 fit for active service for some time to come, 
 and Captain Homilly did not relish the idea 
 of mounting any meaner thing, and saw 
 himself reduced in consequence to travel- 
 ling about on foot. And he was vexed that
 
 216 VERONIQUE. 
 
 he should have missed all the fun of the 
 shooting excursion, to which he had looked 
 forward with so much pleasure. He had 
 pulled the trigger of his fine, new, double- 
 barrelled gun, which, with its belonging 
 had cost him nearly a hundred pounds, 
 about half-a-dozen times, and he had seen 
 next to nothing of his old friend Ptomer — 
 the only person on the hills of whom he 
 had any knowledge, and whose company he 
 should lose the following week. And above 
 all this, Gordon Komilly was vexed that he 
 was obliged to leave the priest's bungalow, 
 without any reasonable excuse for revisit- 
 ing it ; and doubly vexed to think that he 
 should be vexed to do so. Arrived at the 
 Ootacamund Hotel, where he, as well as 
 Captain Homer, was temporarily located, 
 Romilly found that worthy in a great 
 state of excitement, consequent upon his 
 preparations for the shooting excursion to 
 Bandypoor, on which he and Major Powell 
 were to start the following day. He was 
 most urgent in his entreaties that the 
 A.D.C. should join them, and give them
 
 THE OOTACAMUND POST-OFFICE. 217 
 
 the enjoyment of his company for a couple 
 of days further, but at first Gordon 
 Homilly was sulky with his fate, and 
 steadfastly refused ; resolving to make 
 himself as little pleasant as might be. 
 But Homer's genial temper, added to a 
 secret knowledge, on the part of the 
 A.D.C., that the sooner he shook off the 
 feeling which oppressed him, the better 
 for himself, won the day, and from having 
 felt inclined for nothing but to ride back 
 to the priest's bungalow, and catch another 
 glimpse of the smiling, pensive face of 
 Veronique, Captain Romilly rushed into 
 the other extreme, caught the infection of 
 his friend's enthusiasm, bought a splendid 
 Pegu pony from one of the native dealers, 
 at his own price, and employed himself for 
 the rest of the day cleaning, oiling, and ar- 
 ranging his weapons, whilst he discussed 
 the merits of his new purchase, and expa- 
 tiated on the feats of skill which he hoped 
 to perform. 
 
 Meanwhile the figure of the little Irish 
 girl grew dim in the background, and pow-
 
 218 VERONIQUE. 
 
 der and shot, Pegu ponies, and Westley 
 Richards' took its place. So much for the 
 influence of the prettiest face in the world, 
 when backed against a man's amusements 
 with his own sex, in whatever direction 
 they may happen to lie. 
 
 " Pomilly ! come up to the post-office 
 with me," said P,omer, on the following 
 morning, for the A.D.C., having once got 
 on his legs again, had made rapid progress, 
 and, with the exception of a little stiffness, 
 could now walk quite easily, " the mail is 
 in, and we may as well see if there are any 
 letters for us, before we start." 
 
 They set off at a smart pace in the direc- 
 tion Captain Pomer indicated, and took 
 their way through a rural lane, bordered 
 by green hedges and overshadowed by leafy 
 trees, along each side of which were gardens 
 filled with summer flowers, and enclosing 
 pretty rustic-built cottages, shaded by 
 verandahs, and covered with creepers 
 bearing orange and white and crimson 
 blossoms. 
 
 " What a strange place this is !" said
 
 THE OOTACAMUND POST-OFFICE. 219 
 
 Captain Homer, as he pointed out the 
 beauties winch they passed, " who would 
 think, to look at those flower-beds, that the 
 puddles were all ice at four o'clock this 
 morning. Charmingly romantic, though, 
 isn't it ? — you must come here for your 
 honeymoon, Homilly, if you ever have such 
 a thing !" 
 
 " If I ever have such a thing," repeated 
 the A.D.C., " I think I may promise you I 
 will — but should I be so unfortunate as to 
 be obliged to sell myself, Homer, I expect 
 there will be more money than honey about 
 the business, unless my present opinions 
 materially alter/' 
 
 " What nonsense ! Surely, Eomilly, you 
 of all men, should be able to afford to do 
 as you like in that particular !" 
 
 " If you think so, it only shows how 
 little you can know of my affairs. I 
 haven't got a sixpence of my own, Homer, 
 and if you saw my cheque-book you'd be 
 aware that his Lordship keeps me most 
 uncommonly low." 
 
 " What do you call ' low V " laughed
 
 220 v£ronique. 
 
 Ptomer, who had but his pay to depend 
 upon, himself. 
 
 " Why ! he only gives me five hundred 
 a-year, beside my allowances, and it's im- 
 possible for a man to live decently on that. 
 To say nothing of the unpleasantness of 
 being always dependent on one's Governor 
 — I can't move hand or foot without being 
 hauled up for it ! — it's ( Gordon this ' and 
 1 Gordon that,' and ' I'll stop your allow- 
 ance, if I hear any more of it,' every month 
 in the year !~ Deuced unpleasant, you 
 know ! it gives your father such scope b > 
 take liberties with you. If it hadn't been 
 for that, do you think I'd have come 
 out to this country, and expatriated my- 
 self for a paltry A.D.C.ship, when I was 
 quartered at Winchester, and could get up 
 to Town every other night in the week ? I 
 would have seen myself further first ! But 
 that's the curse of being the youngest son 
 — all three of my brothers are better oft' 
 than myself, I wish they'd been at Jericho 
 before they'd been born at all — but it's just 
 like my luck ; my mother ought to have been
 
 THE OOTACAMUND POST-OFFICE. 221 
 
 ashamed of herself. " And as Gordon Ro- 
 milly, with his youth and his beauty, his 
 staff appointment, and his live hundred a- 
 year, uttered this monody, he looked so 
 truly pathetic, that Captain Romer burst 
 out laughing. 
 
 " My dear fellow, it's a case for the con- 
 sideration of your parish guardians, and 
 you should not fail to place it before them 
 as soon as ever you reach England again. 
 Meanwhile, let us go and enquire for our 
 letters. " 
 
 " Which is the post-office ?" asked Ko- 
 milly, staring about him. 
 
 " That little building on the hill before 
 you, next to the flag-staff." 
 
 " But what is that crowd of people col- 
 lected round it ?" 
 
 " Those are the residents of Ootacamund, 
 waiting for their letters." 
 
 " Have you no postman, then, in this 
 place V 
 
 " Oh ! yes ! but they get their dispatches 
 half an hour earlier by coming for them. 
 They walk up to the post-office hill as re-
 
 222 VERONIQUE. 
 
 gularly as the sun rises — it is something for 
 them to do." 
 
 " Good Heavens !" exclaimed Romilly, as 
 though lost in the contemplation of human 
 nature sunk so low as to derive daily ex- 
 citement from the contents of the postman's 
 bag, " need we go inside f 
 
 " Oh ! yes ! you must see the Ootaca- 
 mund Post-office ; for it's quite a curiosity 
 in its way. I'll bet any money you never 
 saw such another, wherever you may have 
 travelled." 
 
 They could hardly force their way in for 
 the assemblage of Europeans collected 
 round the door, and amongst which might 
 be seen specimens of almost every variety 
 of the species then collected upon the Neil- 
 gherry Hills. Veterans, who had retired 
 from the army to pass the remainder of 
 their vegetable existence in that climate ; 
 beardless " griffins," who had fallen sick on 
 their first introduction to the country, and 
 been hastily despatched upwards to prevent 
 their being shovelled downwards ; officer-, 
 from Bengal, Bombay, and Madras, with
 
 THE OOTACAMUND POST-OFFICE. 223 
 
 yellow, parchment-like faces, who had un- 
 dergone a wearisome course of " liver" and 
 blue pills, and were trying what the sana- 
 torium would do for them before they 
 finally decided to take their " long leave 
 home ;" and soldiers from the various de- 
 tachments stationed on the Hills, were all 
 jostling one another in their efforts to get 
 closer to a wire grating, which ran across 
 one end of the inside of the post-office. 
 The ladies of Ootacamund, also, were not 
 unrepresented, although they did not show 
 in such force as the men, but they made up 
 for the deficiency of their number by the 
 proficiency of their tongues, which kept up 
 such a continual buzz, that when Bomilly 
 first found himself in the centre of the 
 crowd, he could neither hear nor under- 
 stand what it was all about. 
 
 " Try and edge your way towards the 
 grating," whispered Eomer in his ear; " the 
 letters are all laid out on a counter behind 
 it, and you will be able to see whether 
 there are any for yourself, or not." 
 
 " All right I" said Eomilly, " I will when
 
 224 VjfiRONIQUE. 
 
 I find it possible to stir, but at present I 
 am wedged in so tight that I can neither 
 move one way, nor the other." 
 
 Meanwhile, the chatter and the buzz, in- 
 termingled with the gruffer tones of the 
 male sex, went on incessantly. " Now, who 
 can that letter for Mrs. Doveton be from, 
 Miss Wheeler ? — that one in the blue enve- 
 lope, at the right-hand corner — I've never 
 seen that hand before — a remarkable wil- 
 ting, too, hardly to be mistaken." 
 
 " I wonder if it can be young Ark- 
 wright's V chimed in another voice, as the 
 owner pushed forward to gain a sight of 
 the suspected epistle, "it's really not un- 
 like his writing. I'm almost sure that's the 
 way he makes his D's ! Just fancy if it is 
 — how disgraceful !" 
 
 " Well, for my part I could believe any- 
 thing in that quarter — particularly after 
 the way in which she went on with him at 
 the Bangalore Ball." 
 
 "Buffer has written to Bobson again," 
 interposed a man's voice, " to ask him about
 
 THE OOTACAMUND POST-OFFICE. 225 
 
 the retirement money, I suppose, but it's of 
 no use. Buffer will find that Bobson — " 
 
 But to what phase of Bobson's character 
 Buffer had yet to be introduced, was lost 
 in the medley of gratuitous news which 
 was delivered on every side. 
 
 " But really, dear I" in a chirpy, harmless 
 little tone, "if you'll promise faithfully 
 not to repeat it, I'll tell you what I heard 
 Mrs. ColonelDowdson say with her own lips 
 about that business. She told me that — " 
 
 " Excuse me, my dear Mrs. Browne, it 
 was nothing of the sort. She may say 
 he proposed to her, but everyone knows — " 
 
 " Deny it ? oh, nonsense ! she cant deny 
 it. Why he was seen coming out of the 
 house !" 
 
 "Will you be good enough to make way 
 here. I am in a hurry for my paper this 
 morning ! Yes, that one to your left ! 
 addressed Major Jones. Is not the next 
 one for me V 
 
 " No, sir ; to the name of Steward." 
 
 " Steward — Steward ! how very odd. I 
 wonder who should send Steward papers ! 
 
 vol. i. 15
 
 226 VERONIQUE. 
 
 All his friends are in England — frightfully 
 in debt, you know. He'll never be able to 
 leave the country." 
 
 " Ah, Major ! it would be a good thing 
 if his debts were the worst part of him. 
 But that Rangoon business was quite 
 shocking." 
 
 " Low, my dear ! low is no name for 
 her dress. I wonder that any gentleman 
 liked to take her in to dinner. But I sup- 
 pose that is the English fashion, and we 
 know nothing." 
 
 " It will be a divorce, Miss Greene, and 
 that before very long, mark my words !" 
 
 " Oh, dear ! I hope not ! so very scan- 
 dalous, you know. But did I ever tell you 
 what Mrs. Black said Miss White had told 
 her she heard him say to her one evening 
 at the Band ? It was dreadful ! She said 
 that — " and here the fair coadjutors in pro- 
 moting good-will amongst men, advanced 
 their heads towards each other, and the 
 thrilling climax which Gordon Born illy 
 expected, was hissed into each others 
 ears.
 
 THE OOTACAMUND POST-OFFICE. 227 
 
 " Oh ! Mr. Graham," exclaimed a couple 
 of ladies simultaneously, " here are three 
 letters for you this morning, and one is in 
 a lady's handwriting ! Now, Avho is it 
 from ? You really must tell us. We are 
 all anxiety to learn/' 
 
 Mr. Graham, a young fellow of about 
 Romilly's own age, pushed forward to the 
 grating, seized his letters, and shoving 
 them into his pocket with a growl that was 
 half an oath, unceremoniously escaped from 
 the pertinacious enquiries of his unlicensed 
 persecutors. 
 
 " Always so rude !" exclaimed the ladies 
 as they returned to the contemplation of 
 the letters behind the grating, and then 
 Captain Romilly who had recognised his 
 father's splashy red seal from some little 
 distance, heard them commence to speculate 
 on the probable owner of the epistle. 
 
 "Captain, the Honourable Gordon 
 Romilly, A.D.C.," said one as she nearly 
 twisted her neck off, in her endeavours to 
 read the address upside down ; " I suppose 
 that is one of the governor's aides-de-camp. 
 
 15—2
 
 228 V^RONIQUE. 
 
 I didn't know there was anyone of that 
 name upon the hills/' 
 
 " It's a sweet name !" sighed a young 
 lady who had been born and bred in her 
 parents' adopted country. 
 
 " Colonel Thompson, do you know a 
 Captain Romilly? we are so curious to 
 know who he is." 
 
 " I have met a conceited young puppy 
 who calls himself by that name," growled 
 the Colonel, of whom nothing was to be 
 seen except a huge, white, pith helmet, by 
 which he was usually distinguished and 
 extinguished when in the open air. 
 
 " Thank you !" said Gordon Romilly 
 haughtily, some two inches above the white 
 pith helmet, but the sound penetrating to 
 the Colonel's ears, he looked up, got as red 
 as a turkey-cock, and instantly disappeared 
 in the crowd. 
 
 " My character precedes me !" remarked 
 Romilly with a curl of his lip to Homer, 
 but the ladies were too busy over the letter 
 to have heard what had passed behind 
 them.
 
 THE OOTACAMUND POST-OFFICE. 229 
 
 "A lovely seal," quoth one, "and with a 
 coronet on it ! I wonder what that's for." 
 
 " Why, his father is a lord of course, 
 and he'll be a lord himself by-and-bye, 
 when his father dies." 
 
 " Will he ? Are all honourables lords as 
 soon as their fathers are dead ?" 
 
 " Of coarse they are. Why, you silly 
 thing ! didn't you know that ?" 
 
 The lady addressed, not liking to be 
 thought so deficient in her knowledge of 
 the customs and manners of the aristocracy, 
 hastened to defend herself. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I was only joking. But fancy 
 how nice ! How I should like to see him ! 
 I wonder if he's tall." 
 
 Romilly's lip curled higher and higher as 
 he listened to the remarks made upon him- 
 self, but he kept his patience wonderfully ; 
 and by dint of "I beg your pardon," and 
 " will you allow me ?" oft repeated, at last 
 managed to approach the grating, near 
 enough to speak to the official behind it. 
 
 " My letters, if you please f 
 
 " What name V
 
 230 VURONIQUE. 
 
 " Captain Romilly." 
 
 Romilly said the words as low as he 
 could, but nothing escaped the ears of the 
 idlers about the grating ; and surprise 
 occasioned by his unexpected appearance 
 amongst them, caused such a general clus- 
 tering and whispering together, that he 
 and Romer experienced no difficulty in pass- 
 ing out of their midst again, and were 
 soon clear of. the post-office, and marching 
 down the hill on which it stood. 
 
 "Well, thank heaven that's over," ex- 
 claimed Captain Romilly as they gained the 
 open air ; "I think I shall be content to 
 wait for my epistles in future, until the 
 postman brings them round. What a hot- 
 bed for idle talk and scandal that post- 
 office appears to be. Why, most of those 
 people had either received their letters or 
 learnt that there were none for them, and 
 yet there they stayed, blocking up the 
 place just to chatter and gossip with each 
 other. It only wanted cups of tea to be 
 handed round to render the scene perfect." 
 
 " It is a rendez-vous," said Romer, in his
 
 THE OOTACAMUND POST-OFFICE. 231 
 
 goocl-natured way of excusing everything, 
 " and in this country people are so idle and 
 so bored, that to look in each other's faces 
 only is a relief. You will find just such 
 another gathering in the market-place on 
 Tuesdays and Fridays, Romilly." 
 
 " Excuse me, my dear fellow," replied 
 the A.D.C., "I shall find no such thing, 
 for I shall make a point, on the days you 
 mention, of riding just in the opposite 
 direction. If you have no wish to go 
 further at present," he continued as he 
 broke the seal of his letter and glanced over 
 its contents, " I will ask you to walk back 
 to the hotel with me, for this letter requires 
 an answer, and perhaps I had better write 
 it before we start." 
 
 " No bad news, I hope !" said Eomer, 
 with friendly anxiety. 
 
 " Well — not exactly, but my father s 
 state of health is very unsatisfactory, and 
 as I have not written to him for the last two 
 mails, I am afraid he may think me negli- 
 gent. Not that I am the favourite son by 
 any manner of means, far from it, I am the
 
 232 VERONIQUE. 
 
 prodigal and ' vaurien ' of the family ; but 
 the poor old governors epistles, though 
 crammed with good advice, are always kind, 
 and I shouldn't like him to fancy himself 
 neglected or forgotten." 
 
 Captain Eomilly returned to the hotel, 
 and wrote and dispatched his letter, and 
 a few hours afterwards, finding himself 
 mounted on the back of his stout Pegu, and 
 making the descent of the " ghaut/' with 
 Powell and Homer, reverted to the scene 
 he had witnessed at the Ootacamund Post- 
 office, and expressed his ojDinion of it rather 
 freely. Major Powell only shrugged his 
 shoulders at the relation, as much as to say 
 that it was a subject not worth arguing 
 about ; but Romer took up the cudgels in 
 defence of it, and wielded them manfully. 
 
 " You are too hard upon them," he cried, 
 "you forget the state to which a life of 
 stagnation reduces people, bodies and 
 minds, and should judge them by the 
 standard of the habits of a little country 
 village at home, and not by that of one of 
 your bustling, go-a-head, thriving cities.' 5
 
 THE OOTACAMUND POST-OFFICE. 233 
 
 "Exactly so," replied Romilly ; "but 
 would they be pleased if you so judged 
 them ? To my mind they have every pre- 
 tension to be considered as moving with 
 the world, and are ready to be mortally of- 
 fended with any one who appears to think 
 otherwise. When I was down in Madras 
 the other day, I met a man of some years' 
 standing in the army, red-hot with passion 
 over an article which had appeared in one 
 of the magazines, reflecting on some of the 
 customs and manners of the Anglo-Indians. 
 He was perfectly furious about it. I 
 thought the poor fellow would have broken 
 a blood-vessel ; but not being competent 
 to judge whether the article in question 
 were true or a libel, I could only express 
 my sympathy with his outraged feelings, 
 and remain silent. Well, would you believe 
 it, the very same night at their mess-table, 
 that man having recovered his spleen of 
 the morning, was the foremost in relating a 
 lot of stories (equivocal, to say nothing 
 worse) of the ladies of that cantonment and 
 others. I stared in amazement, and thought
 
 234 VKRONIQUE. 
 
 (what I have had occasion to think several 
 times since), that if men in India are so 
 touchy on the score of such things being 
 remarked upon or repeated, why on earth 
 are they the first to cram them down a 
 stranger's throat ? The land abounds with 
 tittle-tattle and repetitions, and if what 
 married men tell me is true, the women are 
 not behindhand in spreading scandal of 
 each other. One may talk, talk, talk in 
 India as much as one likes, but directly it 
 is whispered in England, or appears in 
 print, the whole country is up in arms, at 
 what has generally emanated from one of 
 themselves." 
 
 " You speak the truth there," said Romer, 
 gravely, " there is no doubt a vast amount 
 of idle stories are constantly floating about ; 
 but you should remember that in so small 
 a community as this, everything gets re- 
 marked upon. It is not that vice and folly 
 are more prevalent with us here than they 
 would be at home, but that they cannot be 
 practised with such impunity." 
 
 " That may be the case," replied Romilly,
 
 THE OOTACAMUND POST-OFFICE. 235 
 
 " though I am not prepared to implicitly 
 avow it ; but if it is, it does not alter the 
 fact. During the few days we have spent 
 in each other's company, you have told me 
 yourself of half-a-dozen notorious cases, of 
 which the subjects are still received in 
 Indian society. I don't deny that these 
 cases might have occurred in England, 
 human nature being the same all the world 
 over ; but I do say that, had they been as 
 openly discussed, the offenders would have 
 been cut by all respectable people." 
 
 " But in a place like India, where you 
 are brought into contact with your acquaint- 
 ances every day, it would make one's posi- 
 tion so unpleasant to be ' cuts ' with half-a- 
 dozen of them," said Romer. 
 
 " Then why make such a fuss about the 
 matter ? either be virtuously indignant, 
 and shew your disapprobation of the pro- 
 ceeding, or — hold your tongue about it! 
 But you Indians talk the greatest scandal 
 of each other amongst yourselves ; the 
 names of men and women out here are 
 handled with the most reckless impunity,
 
 236 VERONIQUE. 
 
 (vide the conversation on the Post-office 
 hill this morning !) and yet, if anyone else 
 talks of you, you are surprised where they 
 could have gained their information." 
 
 " No one likes being abused, of course," 
 observed Captain Romer. 
 
 " Then why abuse each other ? I never 
 heard any Madras scandal in England, 
 though I have been told that to listen to a 
 lot of old Indians at Bath or Brighton, who 
 have met together to talk over their remi- 
 niscences, is a caution, and beats all the 
 books in their disfavour that were ever 
 penned. But I have not been so fortunate. 
 I received my information from your own 
 mouths when I arrived in this country, 
 where, you may depend upon it, Indian 
 scandal always has its rise. Madras is 
 like the adder who stings herself to death." 
 
 " And what of Bengal and Bombay ?" 
 said Romer, laughing. 
 
 " Oh ! I know nothing of the sister 
 Presidencies," returned Gordon Eomilly, in 
 the same strain ; " but if what one hears 
 of Simla and other places, is true, they have
 
 THE OOTACAMUND POST-OFFICE. 237 
 
 all three rightly earned their title to be 
 considered feminine. For though want of 
 something to talk about may make men 
 descend to repeating stories, injurious to the 
 characters of their friends, you may take 
 your affidavit, Romer, that it is the women 
 who provide them with the means. We 
 may promulgate a scandal, but it is they 
 who originate it." 
 
 " Hear ! hear ! hear !" exclaimed Homer, 
 sitting well back on his saddle, and stick- 
 ing out his legs straight before him. " A 
 Homilly come to judgment ! Why, my 
 dear fellow, you are quite a moralist ! You 
 must lecture on the subject as soon as you 
 get back to Madras, and I'm sure all the 
 ladies will flock to hear you, if only on 
 account of the fascination attached to your 
 name." 
 
 " I daresay they would," said the A.D.C., 
 carelessly ; " but I don't intend to honour 
 them. You may laugh at my arguments, 
 Eomer, as much as ever you like, but as 
 long as you listen, and have nothing where-
 
 238 VHRONIQUE. 
 
 with to answer me, I feel perfectly satisfied 
 both with them and myself." 
 
 And as Captain Bomilly, bestriding his 
 handsome Pegu, blew a thin curling cloud 
 of smoke into the air from between his 
 supercilious lips, he looked as though his 
 words were true.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 "erin' amongst the todahs. 
 
 The two days' shooting at Bandypoor was 
 a perfect success. No further contretemps 
 happened, to ruffle the serenity of the A.D.C., 
 or to mar the pleasure of his friends ; and 
 it was a time to be remembered by all of 
 them with satisfaction. As for Captain 
 Homilly, he was almost ready at the close 
 of it to admit that under some circumstances 
 life might be enjoyable even in the East, 
 though Homer took care not to risk the dis- 
 turbance of his companion's new-born con- 
 tentment, by suggesting so treasonable an 
 idea to him. He had brought down to his 
 own gun two spotted deer, one tiger-cat, 
 and at least a dozen and a half rose-necked 
 parrots, to say nothing of having mortally
 
 240 V&IONIQUE. 
 
 alarmed a baby elephant, which he had 
 caught attempting to browse on the out- 
 skirts of the jungle, and which, after having 
 sent a bullet whizzing 1 close to its tender 
 trunk, he had caused to beat a hasty retreat 
 to the side of its dam, to the tune of its 
 own shrill trumpeting of fear. 
 
 So divinely affable, however, was the 
 temper of the Honourable Gordon during 
 these few days of sequestration, that he 
 would not permit even this disappoint- 
 ment to elicit more than a naughty word 
 from him ; and consoled himself by having 
 his deer-skins stretched and dried, prepara- 
 tory to being transformed into half-a-dozen 
 pairs of slippers, and making his rose-necked 
 parrots into a pie, which he vowed was the 
 best which he had ever eaten. 
 
 Their sport at Bandypoor was decidedly 
 ordinary; but the cheerfulness and ver 
 which all three men threw into the under- 
 taking, caused the holiday to be a very 
 pleasant one ; and when at the close of the 
 third day, Gordon Romilly shook hands 
 with Powell and Romer for the last time,
 
 ERIN AMONGST THE TODAHS. 241 
 
 and mounted his stout little pony to re- 
 ascend the " ghaut " by himself, he felt lone- 
 lier and more dispirited than he could have 
 believed it possible he should be. 
 
 " Good-bye ! old chum," was Homer's 
 farewell advice, " get a jolly wife as soon 
 as you can, and see if she won't reconcile 
 you to staying in India sooner than any- 
 thing else would do \" 
 
 " A wife ! my dear fellow. You might 
 as well advise me to try hanging in-order 
 to make me contented with life. You are 
 a great deal more likely to put your head 
 in the noose than I am." 
 
 " I wish I could," said Homer with a 
 shrug. " I'd try it fast enough, Rom illy, if 
 I had the means, for it's the best thing a 
 man can do after all." 
 
 " Chacun d son gout" was the unsympa- 
 thetic rejoinder. " With me, Homer, the 
 charms of married life, like those of India, 
 gain in proportion to the less I see of them 
 — ' Distance lends enchantment to the 
 view.' " 
 
 " You don't deserve to see it any nearer," 
 
 VOL. I. 16
 
 242 VERONIQUE. 
 
 replied the other jestingly, and his merry 
 laugh was the last thing that Gordon 
 Romilly heard as he turned his pony's head 
 in the direction of the " ghaut." 
 
 As he ascended it, he hardly observed its 
 order of high romantic beauty, which could 
 not but have been appreciated, even by his 
 inartistic eye, had his mind not been full of 
 another subject. But he felt quite " hipped " 
 at the prospect of returning to Ootacamund 
 without the genial presence of Homer, who was 
 not only the sole person he had liked there, 
 but the sole person he had known. He had 
 applied for leave to the hills, hardly aware 
 of what he should do or find there ; and 
 his rencontre with his old schoolfellow had 
 been one of those happy accidents which we 
 occasionally experience through life, and for 
 which we are not sufficiently grateful. But 
 his meeting Captain Homer, with whom he 
 had been intimate in days gone by, and 
 speaking his mind so freely to him in con- 
 sequence as he had done, had been the 
 means of making him more enemies than 
 friends amongst those who had been the
 
 ERIN AMONGST THE TODAHS. 243 
 
 recipients of his opinions ; and Romilly 
 knew that, without the shield of Homer's 
 companionship he should find a difficulty in 
 mixing on anything like terms of intimacy 
 amono'st those whom he had offended. He 
 told himself, as he performed the slow and 
 fatiguing ascension of the " ghaut/' that the 
 fact could make no possible difference to 
 him, that he had nothing in common with 
 the residents of Ootacamund, nor they with 
 him ; and that familiar intercourse between 
 them would be productive of neither plea- 
 sure nor profit on either side. 
 
 Notwithstanding which private assertion, 
 Captain Romilly was not such a fool as to 
 be unaware that, as we journey through this 
 world, we are all dependent upon one an- 
 other for comfort and enjoyment; and he 
 remembered that he was a greater stranger 
 here than he had been even in Madras ; and 
 felt proportionately friendless and alone. 
 
 But as he ruminated on these things, the 
 thought of Pere Joseph and his niece flashed 
 across his mind, and Romilly 's breast posi- 
 tively glowed as he recalled the hospitality 
 
 1G— 2
 
 244 VJORONIQUE. 
 
 which had been shown him from that quarter, 
 the cordial welcome with which he had been 
 received, and the honest regret which had 
 followed his departure. He had almost 
 forgotten the Roman Catholic priest and 
 his family, amidst the pleasures of his shoot- 
 ing excursion ; but now the recollection of 
 them and all their kindness, diverted his 
 thoughts into a pleasanter channel as he 
 commenced to consider by what means he 
 could best express his sense of all they had 
 done for him during his late visit to the 
 bungalow. 
 
 The A.D.C. was very extravagant, but 
 he was generous at the same time, and his 
 money was far oftener spent on others than 
 on himself. From the first hour that he 
 had been laid on the priest's bed, he had 
 intended to remunerate him handsomely for 
 his trouble ; but at the same time it was 
 difficult to know in what way to do it, for 
 an offer of money he felt that Pere Joseph 
 would reject with scorn. Had he been in 
 England or France, he would have sent 
 him the works of Victor Hugo, Blaise Pascal,
 
 ERIN AMONGST THE TODAHS. 245 
 
 or Chateaubriand, for the priest was a well- 
 educated man, as his conversation denoted, 
 and the want of books in his own language 
 was one of the few privations at which he 
 had murmured in the presence of his guest. 
 But whilst making a note to have a box of 
 literary food sent out for him from England 
 as soon as possible, Captain Romilly did not 
 wish to defer making Pere Joseph some 
 little offering until they arrived, and for a 
 long time he could not imagine what sort of 
 article would be most acceptable to the old 
 man. At last he thought of an easy chair, 
 for the sole one of which the little bungalow 
 could boast was old-fashioned and worn ; 
 and so elated was he at his own ingenuity, 
 that as soon as he reached the cantonment 
 he could not rest until he had ransacked the 
 stores of English furniture in the native 
 shops, and found the article which he de- 
 sired. A very handsome chair it was too, 
 with a mahogany frame, covered in morocco ; 
 such an one as the priest's bungalow had 
 never known even in its palmiest days ; and 
 a handsome price did Mr. Hubbubbetty
 
 240 VKRONIQUE. 
 
 Chetty charge the unsuspecting A.D.C. for 
 it, but who would have paid the sum twice 
 over sooner than not have had what he had 
 set his heart on procuring. 
 
 The same evening it was dispatched, by 
 the hands of two coolies, to its destination, 
 accompanied by a very pretty little note of 
 thanks. And that it gave great pleasure 
 there, and doubtless excited universal ad- 
 miration, was proved by the answer, which, 
 written in French, and in the crabbed 
 foreign hand of Pere Joseph, reached Gordon 
 Romilly on the following morning — 
 
 " Monsieur — 
 
 " 1 have received, with the greatest 
 pleasure, the magnificent present which you 
 have had the kindness to send me. I can- 
 not better express my gratitude for your 
 remembrance of me, than by saying, that 
 during my life I shall guard it with the 
 greatest care ; and after my death I shall 
 leave it to my child, as a souvenir of the 
 brave and generous Englishman who hon- 
 oured us by staying under our roof. In
 
 ERIN AMONGST THE TODAHS. 247 
 
 •conclusion, may I hope, that it will not be 
 many days before your goodness gives me 
 the opportunity of saying in person what I 
 find it difficult to write. Receive, Monsieur, 
 the assurance of my most perfect considera- 
 tion. 
 
 " Joseph Quetin." 
 
 When Captain Romilly read this note, 
 which vividly recalled the memory of the 
 frank cordiality with which the courteous 
 old priest had received him, he was imme- 
 diately seized with an unconquerable long- 
 ing to rush out to the bungalow, and see 
 Pere Joseph and Veronique again. 
 
 This feeling, which had assailed him 
 strongly ever since he had re-entered the 
 cantonment and missed the companionship 
 of his friend Romer, was but natural under 
 the circumstances, but Captain Romilly 
 knew sufficient of his own disposition to be 
 aware that it was dangerous for him. He 
 had felt interested in the little Irish girl 
 from the first day that he had seen her, 
 and when, recovered from his accident, he
 
 248 VEItOXIQUE. 
 
 had left her uncles house, the knowledge 
 that he did not like to part from Veronique 
 had been the cause of his very palpable ill- 
 humour. 
 
 She was attractive from every point of 
 view, pretty enough to satisfy the demands 
 of any man : educated enough to make him 
 totally forget the difference in her station, 
 and piquante, and coquettish enough to 
 drive him to do anything foolish in order to 
 see her at his feet. A dangerous companion 
 for any one who did not intend to make 
 her his wife, and particularly so for a man 
 with the peculiar temperament of Captain 
 Romilly. For when he had told Homer, on 
 the first occasion of their meeting, that he 
 had never cared for a woman, and never 
 expected to do so, the A.D.C. had not 
 adhered strictly to the truth. He had cer- 
 tainly never yet felt what it was to conceive 
 a pure, faithful love for one individual, and 
 to cleave to it ; but as for what is termed 
 " falling in love," — that is, generating a hot 
 fancy for a pretty face, not to be cured 
 until a prettier comes in view. — Gordon
 
 ERIN AMONGST THE TODAHS. 249 
 
 Romilly had been doing scarcely anything 
 else, ever since he had arrived at years of 
 indiscretion. It was on this account, and 
 because he had become entangled with 
 society beneath himself in point of station, 
 that his father, Lord Erskine Romilly, had 
 procured him his present appointment of 
 aide-de-camp, and insisted upon his accept- 
 ing it. He was truly as he had remarked 
 to Homer, the prodigal and vaurien of his 
 family, and the problem which his relations 
 were constantly trying to solve for them- 
 selves, was : what would eventually become 
 of " poor Gordon." . Meanwhile " poor 
 Gordon," spoilt by women on account of 
 his face, and tolerated at the least, by men, 
 on account of his birth and position, had 
 not yet commenced (except on the score of 
 his supposed poverty) to consider himself 
 an object for universal compassion. Not- 
 withstanding all his affectation of finding 
 his existence a bore too great to be endured, 
 he knew that his life was passing very 
 pleasantly away, and he was not a person 
 who concerned himself about the future.
 
 250 VERONIQUE. 
 
 To-day was the god of Gordon Romilly, 
 he let to-morrow take care of itself. 
 
 Now, when he felt that his interest in 
 Veronique Moore was becoming deeper 
 than it should be, he ought, knowing how 
 quickly his fancy was apt to be entangled, 
 to have turned his steps away from that 
 part of the hills altogether, and sought a 
 refuge from himself in Coonoor, or Jacka- 
 tella. 
 
 We ought all to do the/wise and prudent 
 thing when temptation, like an armed man, 
 meets us in the way; only, unfortunately 
 for the credit of our powers of fighting 
 nine hundred and ninety-nine out of a 
 thousand, prefer standing their ground and 
 doing warfare for themselves. And though 
 the pathway be strewn with the bodies of 
 the slain, and the air resounds with the 
 cries of the fallen, it would seem as though 
 human nature were too proud to fly from 
 the devil, though it knows that a hand-to- 
 hand combat invariably ends in its defeat. 
 
 Gordon Romilly knew that he had no in- 
 tention of wooing Veronique Moore to be
 
 ERIN AMONGST THE TODAHS. 251 
 
 his wife, such an idea had never entered his 
 head, still less had he any design of injuring 
 her. Perhaps he was not quite clear at 
 that moment, what he did mean, but he 
 knew that he liked to make love to a pretty 
 girl, and to have his already sufficiently 
 good opinion of himself bettered, by seeing 
 how his attentions fluttered and excited 
 her. And, therefore, as the prospect of 
 that pleasure lay bright and shining in the 
 path before him to-day, he pursued it as a 
 thoughtless child pursues a painted butter- 
 fly, although the insect, in attempting to 
 elude his grasp, may lead him over a preci- 
 pice. He very much wished to make some 
 little gift to Veronique as well as to her 
 uncle, but had not thought of anything 
 which appeared to him suitable to her 
 position, until, in turning over the contents 
 of one of his portmanteaux after his return 
 to Ootacamund, he lighted upon a small 
 jeweller's box containing a sapphire ring 
 which he had purchased in Madras. He 
 had not bought the trinket, which was com- 
 posed of remarkably fine stones, with the
 
 252 VERONJQUE. 
 
 view of giving it to any particular person : 
 for, thoughtless as he was extravagant, 
 costly articles constantly found their way 
 into his possession, simply because he 
 admired, or considered them cheap at the 
 price. 
 
 Now, however, as he caught sight of the 
 ring with its brilliant blue stones, and 
 thought how Veronique's eyes would 
 sparkle as he placed it on her finger, re- 
 gardless of the value and inappropriateness 
 of the gift, he put the box into his pocket, 
 resolved to give it to her the next time 
 they met; and when, on the receipt of 
 Pere Joseph's note, he ordered his Pegu to 
 the door, and rode away without an at- 
 tendant, in the direction of the priest's 
 bungalow, he had it still about him. 
 
 The morning was exquisitely clear, and 
 the atmosphere was soft and balmy — the 
 sun had not yet climbed the highest heaven, 
 and his warmth, without being oppress i\ 
 was just sufficient to draw forth the scent of 
 the thousand and one flowers which blos- 
 somed in the cantonment, and made the air
 
 ERIN AMONGST THE TODAHS.. 253 
 
 luscious with their fragrance. The carriage- 
 road, about the lake, was full of moving 
 figures ; " tonjons," bearing heavy weights, 
 and being borne by groaning bearers, men 
 and women mounted on horseback, " bul- 
 lock-bandies," full of children, rocking like 
 boats at sea, from the ungainly movements 
 of the awkward beasts that drew them, and 
 open and shut vehicles of all sizes and de- 
 scriptions, made the place look unusually 
 lively. 
 
 And through them all rode Gordon Ro- 
 milly, looking, for him, unusually lively 
 also. The complaining grunting chant of 
 the " tonjon" bearers did not appear to dis- 
 gust him as it was wont to do ; the sight 
 of the bullock-drivers urging on their un- 
 fortunate animals by means of twisting 
 round their tails and pricking them with an 
 iron pointed goad, no longer provoked him 
 to a shudder ; he was tolerant of the 
 glances shot at him by some of the " really 
 not bad-looking" pairs of eyes which he en- 
 countered on his way, and even returned 
 the broad grins with which the black
 
 254 VEEONIQTJE. 
 
 "ayahs/' robed in their red and white 
 cloths, saluted him in passing. 
 
 He felt, for once, light-hearted and con- 
 tent, but did not choose to recognise, or 
 would not stay to enquire the reason of the 
 change within him, although, more than 
 once before, he had plunged into the intoxi- 
 cating waters, on the brink of which he 
 stood, and which have the power to alter 
 the face of all external things for those who 
 lave in them. 
 
 He might have guessed it, when he had 
 left the Cantonment behind him, and felt 
 how fast his heart beat at the thought that 
 each step brought him nearer to the bun- 
 galow beside the little chapel. Yet he went 
 on, doggedly determined not to acknow- 
 ledge to himself how very much pleasure 
 the anticipation of this visit gave him, but 
 humming a tune, nevertheless, as he beat 
 time with his Malacca cane on the "hogged" 
 mane of his dauntless Pegu. 
 
 He was within a quarter of a mile of the 
 residence of Pere Joseph, and still sunk in 
 a kind of dreamy reverie, when he w
 
 ERIN AMONGST THE TODAHS. 255 
 
 startled by hearing a voice call, "Monsieur!" 
 some way below him, and looking down the 
 side of the hill which he traversed, he 
 perceived the slight figure of Yeronique 
 scrambling up the acclivity towards him. 
 With the small uncovered head, the long 
 hooded cloak, and the large gold ear-rings, 
 it was unmistakably herself, and the sud- 
 denness of the rencontre sent Romilly's 
 blood flying so fast through his veins, that 
 bv the time she had reached the side of his 
 pony, her face flushed with the speed she 
 had exercised, his cheeks were almost as 
 glowing as her own. 
 
 ''Ah! Monsieur! vous pouvez monter d 
 cheval, vous vous jyortez mieux, fen suis 
 bien aise," poured from her voluble little 
 lips, and then she stood, blushing and 
 agitated beside him, and looking as though 
 she had done wrong in attracting his atten- 
 tion. 
 
 " What a pretty pony !" she added, to 
 cover her confusion, as she laid her hand 
 upon the Pegu's bristling mane. 
 
 Gordon Romilly seized it.
 
 256 VERONIQUE. 
 
 " I was on my way to see you, Veronique 
 — that is to see Pore Joseph. Is he not at 
 home ?" 
 
 " No, Monsieur," gently withdrawing her 
 hand, " I am sorry to say he is not — and 
 David, he also is away. There is no one in 
 the bungalow ; I locked the door, and hid 
 the key behind the beehives, but if you 
 would like to go on, and rest, you can open 
 the door for yourself, and they will both be 
 home to dinner. Mon pere will be so 
 pleased to see you, Monsieur ! Ah ! what 
 a beautiful chair that is you sent him ; and 
 how good of you to keep him in your 
 thoughts — too good ! we all thank you 
 much, Monsieur." 
 
 " And where are you going, Veronique V* 
 enquired Captain Rom illy, professing to 
 ignore her grateful glances, " I don't antici- 
 pate paying a visit to an empty bungalow. " 
 
 " I am going in search of my little cow, 
 Monsieur — she is such a naughty little 
 thing, is ' Erin ;' if ever she can stray 
 away, she does, and yesterday she left the 
 buffaloes to come home by themselves. But
 
 ERIN AMONGST THE TODAHS. 25 7 
 
 I think she has wandered after the Todahs' 
 cattle, for she has been there two or three 
 times before, so I am going to their village to 
 enquire." 
 
 " ' Erin ' amongst the Todahs !" laughed 
 Romilly, " that is quite a new idea, Yero- 
 nique ! And how far off may the Todahs 
 
 live r 
 
 "About half a mile from here, Mon- 
 
 sieur." 
 
 " And mayn't I go with you ?" 
 
 The girl looked uneasy. 
 
 " You could not ride, Monsieur ; my way 
 lies right across the hills, and it will be too 
 steep for your pony." 
 
 " But I can lead him, Yeronique ;! I 
 should not think of riding whilst you were 
 on foot." 
 
 "I shall not go over any beaten path, 
 Monsieur, and those Pegus are sometimes 
 very obstinate when led ; he might refuse 
 to follow, and break his rein, or pull you 
 backwards." 
 
 " Then I shall let him go by himself. 
 Come, Yeronique, it is of no use making 
 
 vol, i. 17
 
 1258 VKROXIQUE. 
 
 objections to my company, because I am 
 quite determined to look for ' Erin/ with 
 you, in the Todahs' village — I have never 
 seen a Todah yet, and you promised once 
 that you would show me one." 
 
 " Very well, Monsieur, do as you please," 
 replied the girl, with a slight sigh, as she 
 waited until Gordon Uomilly had dis- 
 mounted and thrown his pony's bridle 
 across his arm, before she led the way in the 
 direction where the straying " Erin ' was 
 supposed to be.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MONSIEUR ! JE NE PEUX PAS. 
 
 As Captain Bomilly rode od his way to the 
 priest's bungalow, he had thought of a 
 hundred different things which he intended 
 to say to Veronique, but strange to relate, 
 when he found himself alone with her upon 
 those solitary hills, so far removed from the 
 habitation or the cognisance of man, that 
 he might have said or done what he had 
 chosen with impunity, his eloquence failed 
 him, and he walked by her side in silence. 
 This difference was partly owing to the 
 manner of the girl herself, which, from 
 being all excitement and pleasure at meet- 
 ing him again, had changed, most unac 
 countably, to a shy reserve ; and partly to 
 
 17—2
 
 260 VERONIQUE. 
 
 Lis own feelings, which proved stronger 
 than he had given them credit for. They 
 paced beside each other for more than five 
 minutes, without speaking a word, and 
 then Veronique, who could bear the silence 
 no longer, said abruptly : 
 
 "You are better, Monsieur, quite well, 
 are you not V 
 
 " Yes ! I think I may pronounce myself 
 quite well again, Veronique, at least as far 
 as my bruises are concerned/' and with that 
 he stole a side glance at her, to see if she 
 had noticed the insinuation, but perceiving 
 no signs of it, twitched the Pegu s bridle 
 violently instead, and desired him to " keep 
 
 n 
 
 up. 
 
 " Le bon Saint Hubert has not forgotten 
 you," said the girl, thoughtfully. " Have 
 you been reading or thinking anything 
 about him since we parted, Monsieur ?" 
 
 " Monsieur," who had almost forgotten 
 the pre-existence of Saint Hubert at all. 
 here stammered out that he had been pre- 
 vented doing what was so greatly his de- 
 sire, by the shooting excursion to Bandy-
 
 monsieur! je ne peux pas. 261 
 
 poor, which necessarily usurped much of 
 his time. But Veronique did not seem to 
 notice that he was confused. 
 
 " Mon pere has told me," she answered, 
 " that Saint Hubert is the patron saint of 
 the chase, therefore Monsieur could hardly 
 have a more appropriate guardian. He 
 was very wicked at one time, was Saint 
 Hubert, and he used to hunt on Sundays, 
 which is very wrong, of course. You never 
 do so, Monsieur, do you ¥' with an appeal- 
 ing look, which at the same time was 
 rather doubtful, until Eomilly had assured 
 her that he never did. 
 
 " He was out hunting one Sunday, as 
 usual/' continued the girl, i} in the great 
 forest of the Ardennes, when a beautiful 
 stag ran across the path, and as he 
 raised his bow to shoot at it, it turned to 
 face him, and there was the crucifix just 
 between its horns. Saint Hubert was not 
 a saint at that time, you understand, Mon- 
 sieur, but when he saw this blessed miracle, 
 he fell on his knees, and was converted at 
 once ; and he built a church on the very
 
 262 V&IONIQUE. 
 
 spot, and founded a monastery in the town, 
 into which he retired till his death." 
 
 " And never shot a stag on Sunday 
 again," said Eomilly, laughing, " what a 
 good boy." 
 
 But Veronique's quick look of distres 
 and horror recalled him to a sense of the 
 profanity of which he had been guilty. 
 
 " Monsieur, Monsieur ! you cannot be 
 thinking of what you say !" 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Veronique !' : he 
 answered, sobered in an instant; "but. 
 really, do you mean to tell me you believe 
 that story V 
 
 " Of course I do, Monsieur ! am I not a 
 Catholic ? and are we not bound to accept 
 the traditions of the Church ? Surely you 
 believe it also." 
 
 Upon this appeal, sundry recollections 
 of the Council of Trent, and the require- 
 ments of the Roman Catholic religion flitted 
 in an undefined manner through Gordon 
 Romillys brain, but it was all misty to 
 him, and he felt sorry for the first time, 
 that he had, however unwittingly, deceived
 
 MONSIEUR ! JE NE PEUX PAS. 2 Go 
 
 the innocent child beside him, who was 
 looking so earnestly in his face for a denial 
 of what she feared. 
 
 He longed to tell her then, that she was 
 mistaken in him, and that he was a Pro- 
 testant who had abjured all such Popish 
 errors ; but he felt that the avowal would 
 make her shrink from, and perhaps distrust 
 him ever afterwards, and he had not the 
 courage to confess his faith. So he answered 
 vaguely — 
 
 " Well, you see I'm such a sinner, Ve- 
 ronique, that it is hard for me to believe in 
 such things. But tell me what became of 
 my patron Saint — I ought to know/' 
 
 " He lived in the monastery till he died, 
 Monsieur, and then he was buried in the 
 church. Pere Joseph has seen his tomb ; 
 for the town Saint Hubert, which was 
 named after him, is only a few leagues dis- 
 tant from Keve. Perhaps if you saw his 
 tomb, you would also believe." 
 
 " Oh ! I believe all right enough, Vero- 
 nique ! don't be afraid of that ! but I want 
 to know what I have done that I am to be
 
 264 vioroniqui:. 
 
 nothing but Monsieur with you again ! 
 You promised to call me by my own name, 
 if I used yours, and yet I have been gone 
 but five days, and you have already forgot- 
 ten it — how is that V 
 
 " Je ne Vaipas oublie" she said, softly. 
 
 " Then why don't you use it ? Has it 
 altogether too rough and barbarous a sound 
 for your dear little mouth ?" and as Cap- 
 tain Komilly put the question, he placed 
 his disengaged arm about her slender waist. 
 
 Veronique did not object, or twist herself 
 away, but she grew very crimson, and the 
 tears welled slowly into her downcast eyes. 
 
 " Won't you say it, Veronique ? it sounds 
 sweeter from your lips than I ever heard it 
 sound before." 
 
 "Oh! Monsieur, je ne dais pas, je ne 
 peux pas." 
 
 " And why not ?" 
 
 He was becoming so used to hear her ex- 
 press herself in French whenever she was 
 agitated, either pleasantly or otherwise, 
 that he took no notice of the change, but 
 continued the patchwork conversation as
 
 MONSIEUR ! JE NE PEUX PAS. 2G5 
 
 composedly as though it had all been in the 
 same language. 
 
 "Why not, Veronique ? has anyone been 
 setting you against me, or trying to make 
 you believe that we are too intimate V a 
 thought of David and his jealousy flashing 
 across him. 
 
 But she shook her head. 
 
 " Then perhaps you have ceased to regard 
 me as a friend of your own accord. I am 
 not so sincere or so honest as you expected. 
 I have disappointed you in some way, and 
 you already regret that you have shown me 
 so much kindness. Is it so V 
 
 " Oh ! Monsieur, pray do not say such 
 words." 
 
 " Then you must tell me what has 
 altered you, Veronique." 
 
 But at that moment they came in sight 
 of the Todahs' " maunds." 
 
 " There is the village I" she said quickly, 
 "pray, Monsieur, take away your arm. 
 Pere Joseph would be angry were we seen 
 thus." 
 
 He withdrew his arm at once, and walked
 
 :26G VKROXIQUE. 
 
 apart from her a little sulkily. He could 
 not understand why she should repulse his 
 advances, who but the other day had 
 seemed so ready to attract them. The 
 Todahs' village, called so for want of a bet- 
 ter designation, was simply a collection of 
 "maunds," as their dwellings are termed, 
 heaped together like so many ant-hills. 
 They were not unlike ant-hills, either, ex- 
 cept in point of size, being long, low habi- 
 tations formed of red earth, with rounded 
 sides, and apertures for entrance so small 
 that the Todali men were compelled to go 
 on all fours in order to enter their house-, 
 and Gordon Romilly was at a loss to ima- 
 gine how the ladies (in general much 
 broader and bulkier than their lords), 
 managed to c:et in or out at all. 
 
 There seemed to be very little life moving 
 about the Todali village when they first ap- 
 proached it, for the men were away, herd- 
 ing the droves of buffaloes, in which their 
 wealth consists, and of children they Baw 
 none ; but presently, a woman, attracted 
 by the sound of their voices, appeared en
 
 monsieur! je ne peux pas. 267 
 
 all fours, at the entrance of her " maund," 
 and, showing her white teeth, in sign of 
 welcome, dragged herself into the open air, 
 and stood upon her feet. 
 
 " Did you ever see such dreadful places 
 to live in ?" timidly enquired Veronique of 
 Captain Ptomilly, who had not addressed 
 her since she had last spoken to him, 
 " these ' maunds ' are so filthy and so dark 
 inside, that I have heard Pere Joseph say 
 that when the commonest coolies are over- 
 taken by a storm upon the hills, they pre- 
 fer to lie out in the soaking rain to enter- 
 ing one of the Todahs' huts ; they are so full 
 of fleas and other verm in. " 
 
 " From the look of them I am not sur- 
 prised to hear it," answered Romilly. 
 
 The woman who now approached them, 
 was a fine specimen of her race, being tall 
 and well-formed. Her hair, in rich dark 
 curls, hung down to her waist ; her fea- 
 tures were good, though coarsely moulded, 
 and the blanket, which, pinned at her 
 throat, was the sole covering she wore, re- 
 vealed an arm and lee: according witli the 
 rest of her person.
 
 268 VERONIQUE. 
 
 She grinned vehemently as she exchanged 
 a few words with Veronique on the subject 
 of the lost cow, and pointing to a rough 
 shed, a little distance off, intimated that 
 "Erin" was there, and that she would go 
 and fetch her. 
 
 "They have my cow," said Veronique, 
 as the Todah woman walked away, " I 
 thought that I should find her here. Do 
 you know, Monsieur, that that woman who 
 has just left us, has sixteen husbands." 
 
 " By Jove !" exclaimed the startled 
 A.D.C. 
 
 " She has, indeed! and some have even 
 more. By their laws, when a girl is once 
 married, if another man desires her for his 
 wife, he has to make his proposals to the 
 first husband, and it depends upon how 
 many buffaloes he possesses, whether he is 
 accepted or not ; then the third one has to 
 obtain the permission of both the other 
 husbands ; and so on. They all put their 
 buffaloes together, so, of course, the more 
 there are the richer they become ; but it is 
 a very strange custom, is it not V
 
 MONSIEUR ! JE NE PEUX PAS. 269 
 
 " Devilish strange I" responded Captain 
 Romilly. 
 
 "The men spend all their time in look- 
 ing after the cattle, and the wives stay at 
 home and cook the dinners in these dread- 
 ful huts. Oh ! here are two more women 
 coming to speak to us ; and see, Monsieur, 
 they are bringing a baby to show you." 
 
 " A baby I" exclaimed Romilly, in horror, 
 " I wish they wouldn t ! I've a perfect de- 
 testation of them." 
 
 The Todahs were close to them by this 
 time, and in their arms they held up a little 
 fat child, with glittering black eyes, and a 
 head covered with tufts of curling hair, for 
 the inspection of the strangers. 
 
 " It is a great curiosity," said Veronique, 
 smiling, " or they think it so, Monsieur. 
 This is the only baby in the village, and the 
 first that has been born here for the last 
 four years. Mon pere says that the Todah 
 race is completely dying out." 
 
 " So much the better for them and for 
 ns, I should think," said Eomilly, grimly, 
 as he kept edging to one side and the other,
 
 270 VKRONIQUE. 
 
 in order to avoid the too near approach of 
 the dreaded baby ; until, at the suggestion 
 of his companion, he threw the mother a 
 piece of money, and she retired, with her 
 treasure, to her " maund." 
 
 The little cow now made its appearance, 
 led by a halter, and Veronique, after re- 
 warding its finder according to her means, 
 threw the rope across her arm, and pre- 
 pared to conduct her favourite back to its 
 home. 
 
 Whilst they had been detained in the 
 Todah village, she had spoken fast and 
 continuously to the A.D.C., in order to 
 cover the annoyance which the last words 
 exchanged between them had caused her. 
 but now that they were once more alone, 
 she felt as though all her courage had eva- 
 porated, and laying her head gently against 
 the neck of the truant " Erin," pretended 
 to be reproaching her for her misdeed-, 
 whilst, in reality, she was struggling to 
 keep back the tears which threatened to 
 overflow her eyes. 
 
 " Happy ' Erin/ said Gordon Romilly,
 
 monsieur! je ne peux tas. 271 
 
 as he remarked the action, " your mistress 
 extends to you the welcome which evidently 
 she has not got for her friend." 
 
 " Monsieur, you should not speak like 
 that !" replied Veronique, as she lifted her 
 face from the cow's neck, and let him see 
 how weary it appeared. 
 
 " Then what is between us, Veronique ? 
 why do you refuse to call me ' Gordon V 
 Why did you object to my accompanying 
 you hither V 
 
 She was again silent, and taking the 
 sapphire ring from its case, he held it to- 
 wards her, saying — 
 
 " See ! what I had brought you, in hopes 
 that you would accept it, in remembrance 
 of all the kindness with which you tended 
 me whilst I was ill." 
 
 She glanced up at the sparkling jewel, 
 and had half-uttered an exclamation of 
 natural admiration, but the next moment 
 her voice and eyes fell, and she resumed her 
 former melancholy look. 
 
 " I shall never forget those days, Vero- 
 nique," continued Gordon Romilly, "nor
 
 272 VERONIQUE. 
 
 how carefully you tended me ; and I had 
 thought that you also might look back 
 upon them with something not unlike plea- 
 sure." 
 
 He gazed into her face as he spoke, and 
 saw that tears were falling on her cloak. 
 The sight encouraged him. 
 
 " My dear Veronique ! I am sure that 
 you are only playing with me ; your tears 
 deny your words — I cannot have been 
 utterly mistaken when I fancied that you 
 liked me, just a little bit — was it not 
 true ?" 
 
 He was bending down, and almost whis- 
 pered in her ear, and as he did so he 
 caught a murmured " oui." 
 
 " Then let me put this ring upon your 
 finger, Veronique, and wear it there, in 
 token that we are friends, and shall con- 
 tinue so." 
 
 But Veronique drew backward, and 
 would not let him even take her hand. 
 
 " Non, Monsieur, ne one le demand*-. 
 pas, je ne le puis pas, vraiment! je ne le 
 
 PUIS jXY.s'."
 
 MONSIEUB ! JE NE PEUX PAS. 273 
 
 "And why not ?" he demanded almost 
 angrily, " has Pere Joseph forbidden you ? 
 has that fellow David dared to influence 
 you ? why will you not take my gift, 
 Veronique ? I must have an explana- 
 tion." 
 
 Frightened by his vehemence, she turned 
 with terrified eyes and trembling lips to 
 cling to his arm. 
 
 11 Mon Dicul ne m'effrayez pas ainsi, et 
 je vous dirai tout." 
 
 " No one has spoken to me of you, 
 Monsieur," she resumed after a short pause, 
 during which she was trying to steady her 
 voice, " what I think and feel has all come 
 from myself, from my heart here," laying 
 her hand upon her breast, " I liked to 
 nurse you, Monsieur Gor-don, I liked also 
 to have you for my friend, and you saw 
 that I liked it. But after you were de- 
 parted, I questioned with myself whether 
 to like you so much was good or safe for 
 me ! and I could not but answer no ! It 
 would be very pleasant, doubtless, whilst it 
 lasted, but soon you will be gone, and I 
 
 vol. I. 18
 
 274 VERONIQUE. 
 
 shall have no friend, and then, what is to 
 become of me ? For the same reason, 
 Monsieur Gor-don, I will not take your 
 ring; it is like your friendship, too valuable, 
 too fine, for my poor life. It does not 
 accord with it, I am better without the 
 ring — or you I" 
 
 He felt the truth of her objections to his 
 heart's core, although they did not please 
 him, and he walked beside her silently, 
 with his eyes bent on the ground, as he 
 pulled his long fair moustaches through his 
 fingers, and considered in what words to 
 answer her. 
 
 " N*ai-je pas ruisoa?" she whispered, 
 presently, but the reply was dubious. 
 
 " Yes! I suppose you are right, Veronique, 
 though it's a dcucedly unpleasant prospect 
 to contemplate. 
 
 " But it must be wrono- to amuse our- 
 selves," she urged, casting a timid glance 
 at the tall figure beside her, " when so 
 much harm might come from it." 
 
 " And suppose the harm has come 
 already," said Ixomilly, rashly, " suppose I
 
 MONSIEUR ! JE NE PEUX PAS. 275 
 
 have a deeper interest in you than that of 
 friendship, Veronique, what then V 
 
 A flush of glad surprise spread itself 
 over the girl's brow and bosom, and for 
 an instant she had almost yielded to the 
 intoxication of the discovery, and con- 
 fessed that the feeling was mutual ; but the 
 next moment, (recalling the difference in 
 their positions) the hot blood retreated as 
 suddenly as it had come, and left her sick 
 and trembling with the bitter disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 " Monsieur, that would be worse than 
 all. You must not even speak of such a 
 thing I" 
 
 "Worse than all," repeated the A.D.C, 
 as he put his arm again about her supple 
 waist, " how dreadful a calamity my love 
 must seem to you, Veronique." 
 
 He saw the tender light which stole into 
 her soft eyes at the thought, and embold- 
 ened by it, bent his lips towards hers. 
 But before he could reach them, Veronique 
 had placed her hand upon her mouth, and 
 disengaged her slight form from his grasp. 
 
 IS— :>
 
 276 VERONIQUE. 
 
 " Non non! vous ne devezpas /aire eel" I 
 you must not do that," she exclaimed 
 loudly, in her excitement, "for what do you 
 take me, Monsieur ? You ask for my love, 
 for my embraces, and you will give me in 
 return — what ¥* 
 
 " My love, darling," said Captain Romilly, 
 who was growing more eager the more he 
 was repulsed, " isn't that a fair exchange ?" 
 
 " And how will your love end, Mon- 
 sieur V asked the girl, still keeping aloof 
 from her companion. 
 
 At this point-blank question, put with 
 fearless eyes, the face of the young man 
 fell, and Veronique perceived it. The 
 flush which excitement had raised upon her 
 cheeks, faded slowly away ; and dropping 
 her disengaged hand listlessly by her side, 
 she hid her face against the dappled neck 
 of " Erin ' and burst into tears. 
 
 "Don't cry, Veronique, pray don't cry. 
 urged the A.D.C., ruefully, "I am an 
 awful fool to have said anything about it." 
 But that was all the consolation he could 
 find it in his heart to give her.
 
 MONSIEUR ! JE NE PEUX PAS. 277 
 
 " You see, Monsieur," said Veronique, 
 after a while, as she wiped the traces of 
 grief from her countenance, " that I am 
 right, and that anything beyond the com- 
 monest acquaintance between us, is quite 
 out of the question. You are a gentleman, 
 above me in birth, and station, and every- 
 thing, and I am only a poor country girl, 
 the daughter of a soldier, and unfit in 
 every way to be your companion. Were 
 you to meet with another accident, I should 
 be as glad to nurse you as I was before, 
 and whenever you can spare time to ride 
 out to our bungalow, no one will be more 
 pleased to see you than myself. But there, 
 let it rest, Monsieur, never speak to me 
 again, as you have done to-day, nor 
 offer me souvenirs of this time ; for it 
 is best that I should forget it — and you 
 also." 
 
 " I wish to heaven we had never met !" 
 exclaimed the young man passionately. 
 
 " And so do I, Monsieur," was the simple 
 reply, and then they walked the rest of the 
 way in silence, their hearts within them
 
 278 V^ROXIQUE. 
 
 burning, the one with disappointed passion, 
 the other with pure regret. 
 
 " Well, good-bye, Veronique," said Gor- 
 don Romilly, as they again reached the 
 spot where he had met her, " I don't feel 
 inclined to go on to the bungalow to-day, 
 but you can tell Pore Joseph that you met 
 me, and that I said I should come to see 
 him soon." 
 
 " I will not fail to do so, Monsieur." 
 
 " And you must forgive me for having 
 been such a fool as to say anything to vex 
 you. I can't imagine what I was thinking 
 about, but when a man gets alone with such 
 a pretty face, he is not always master of 
 himself." 
 
 This remark, intended to convince the 
 girl that he had meant nothing serious and 
 there was an end of it, was not calculated 
 to soothe her wounded vanity, but she ac- 
 cepted it meekly, as part of the disappoint- 
 ment destined for her, and responded in the 
 same strain. 
 
 " There is nothing to forgive, Monsieur, 
 I knew that it was only badinage on your
 
 monsieur! je ne peux pas. 279 
 
 part, but I shall never forget your kindness 
 to me, nor cease to pray the Blessed Virgin 
 to protect and keep you," and clasping for 
 a moment the hand which Gordon Romilly 
 extended to her, Veronique guided her cow 
 into the homeward path, and parted from 
 him. 
 
 He stood for a little time, watching the 
 graceful figure, which, with one arm cast 
 about the neck of " Erin," never turned to 
 look at him again, and then, with a sigh, 
 which really was heartfelt, he remounted 
 his pony and rode him slowly back to the 
 cantonment.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 GORDON ROMILLY'S DECISION. 
 
 As Gordon Romilly re-entered Ootacamund, 
 everything appeared dull and changed to 
 him. The sun was shining as brightly as 
 when he left it ; the carriage-drive about 
 the lake was as full of moving figures ; but 
 he passed through them now, utterly re- 
 gardless of their vicinity, or noticing it with 
 a return of his old impatience. He hated 
 the place, the people, their customs and 
 costumes, as much as he had ever professed 
 to do ; and was only desirous to escape the 
 sight of them as soon as pos&ible, and bury 
 himself and his disappointment in the pri- 
 vacy of his own room. 
 
 For he was more annoyed and disappointed 
 than he chose to confess. His vanity, wounded 
 at her unexpected rebuff, had induced him to
 
 GORDON ROMILLY's DECISION. 281 
 
 speak lightly of his failure on parting with 
 Veronique, but he did not think lightly of 
 it, even in the first moments of their sepa- 
 ration. He had imagined that the little 
 country-bred girl would consider herself but 
 too honoured by the proffer of his love, and 
 accept it for just so long as it pleased him 
 to bestow ; that she was too simple and 
 child- like in her ideas, in fact, to calculate 
 what might be the end of such attentions 
 on his part, and to find, therefore, that she 
 was so horribly alive to the probable conse- 
 quences, was a regular downfall for all Cap- 
 tain Romilly's hopes of amusement. Not, 
 as has been said before, that he had any 
 intention of deceiving Veronique ; he was 
 foolish and thoughtless, it is true, but he 
 was too much of a gentleman to lay a fixed 
 plan for a girl's destruction ; yet he had 
 anticipated flirting with her at the very 
 least ; and now that her common sense had 
 laid a veto upon even that small diversion, 
 Gordon Romilly became aware that he had 
 anticipated a good deal more. Thinking 
 over what she had said, and the serious air
 
 9siO 
 
 82 S'KItOXIQUE. 
 
 with which she had said it, the A.D.C. felt 
 as though he had proposed to, and been 
 rejected by her ; and he called himself a 
 fool, with an adjective attached to it, twenty 
 times that evening, as he paced up and 
 down his room, and wondered how he could 
 have been so insane as to court an interest 
 in a girl respecting whom her virtue pre- 
 cluded him from having light intentions, 
 and her birth from entertaining serious 
 ones. Why did he ever go and tumble over 
 that precipice ? and, having tumbled, why 
 did he persist in remaining in bed, long 
 after he might have left it with comfort to 
 himself, so that he might retain the pre- 
 sence of Veronique about his pillow, and 
 excite the sympathetic pity which she was 
 so ready to give — knowing the peculiarity 
 of his temperament, Captain Romilly would 
 have added, only something rose up in- 
 wardly to tell him that his former experi- 
 ences were no criterion for this one, and 
 that he had never felt before what he felt 
 now. The knowledge only made him stamp 
 and rave the more.
 
 CORDON ROMILLY'S DECISION. 283 
 
 He had permitted himself to fall in love 
 — yes ! actually to fall in lo\^e, there was 
 no denying the fact, and he was quite sure 
 he had made himself miserable for life by 
 doing so — with a half-bred girl little more 
 than a child, quite uneducated or versed in 
 the ways of society, and, in point of birth and 
 station, utterly beneath himself. But here 
 his affection, which for the time was real, rose 
 up to rebuke the charges he had brought 
 against her, and the piquant e attractive 
 face of Veronique appeared as a background 
 to his arguments, and put them to the rout. 
 She was not half-bred ; she was a thorough 
 Irish girl, with the genuine Irish mixture 
 of blue eyes and black hair ; and the drop 
 of foreign blood which she had inherited 
 was only sufficient to make her more dis- 
 tractingly charming in his eyes. She was 
 not uneducated ; she was better informed, 
 as her conversation proved, than half the 
 ladies that he knew ; and better bred, and 
 more fit to grace an elevated station, than 
 half the women who sat in high places at 
 that very moment. He had libelled Vero-
 
 284 VKRONIQUE. 
 
 nique in saying what lie did. She was ;m 
 object as far removed from being made the 
 plaything of a gentleman's leisure as from 
 being made his wife. As Gordon Romilly 
 uttered this truth to himself, he started. 
 
 " And why not his wife V was the thought 
 that ran rapidly through his brain ; " why 
 not my wife, as well as any other woman ? 
 once removed from this country and people, 
 what is there in Veronique Moore that I 
 should not be proud to own as belonging 
 to myself?" 
 
 At the mere idea of thus possessing her, 
 the young man felt his blood run quicker, 
 and he could not but be aware therefrom 
 how dangerous a notion it was for him t<> 
 dwell on. For the next moment there rose 
 up the image of his father, and of what he 
 would say to the news of such a marriage. 
 Captain Homilly had not forgotten his 
 former peccadillo, nor the commotion it had 
 caused at home. It had been slight com- 
 pared to what this one would be, having 
 never gone beyond a series of foolish letters 
 to a pretty shop-girl, and a threatened
 
 GORDON ROMILLY's DECISION. 285 
 
 action for breach of promise of marriage in 
 consequence from her parent, but Lord 
 Erskine Romilly's strictures on the occasion 
 were well remembered by his son. He was 
 surprised, he was astonished, he was hurt 
 beyond measure, to find that a child of his, 
 that a Romilly, that a grandson of the Earl 
 of Bournemouth, that an officer in her 
 Majesty's service, could so forget himself, 
 lower himself, disgrace himself, and injure 
 himself, as to make love to a woman of the 
 plebeian classes. 
 
 He had thought better of him, hoped 
 better of him, and expected better of him ; 
 and if such a thing ever occurred again, he 
 should — stop his allowances, which was in- 
 variably the swmnum bonum of all Lord Ers- 
 kine Itomilly's lectures to his prodigal son. 
 But as he had found from experience that it 
 was the only method by which he could keep 
 Master Gordon in anything like order, no 
 one contemned the old lord for his oft- 
 repeated threat except the subject of it, 
 who considered it an unanswerable proof of 
 the severity with which his father regarded
 
 -SG VERONIQUE. 
 
 his youthful indiscretions. Whether this 
 were true or not, however, it had had the 
 power as yet of keeping them within due 
 bounds ; and Captain Rom illy knew that 
 he could not afford to disregard it now. It 
 was his foolish love-affair at Winchester 
 which had been the means of transporting 
 him to India as an A.D.C., for his father, 
 afraid of trusting him any longer in the 
 same town as his inamorata, under the 
 usual threat of stoppage of allowances, had 
 compelled him to accept the appointment 
 he procured for him, thereby unwittingly 
 casting his son from the frying-pan into the 
 tire. But though undoubtedly scorched, 
 Captain Romilly as yet showed no signs of 
 burning himself. With one serious thought 
 of Lord Erskine Romilly's anger, and conse- 
 quent measures, should he hear of such an 
 escapade on his part, he resolved it must 
 not be — and tried to pooh-pooh the notion 
 of such a marriage, as an excellent jest 
 which he had raised for a moment's enter* 
 tainment, but which in reality he was as far 
 from contemplating as from stringing him-
 
 GORDON ROMILLY'S DECISION'. 287 
 
 self up to the bed-post. Finding, how- 
 ever, that the jest lingered about his me- 
 mory, notwithstanding the many pipes he 
 smoked, and the many "brandies and 
 sodas ' he imbibed in order to exorcise 
 it, longer and more perse veringiy than he 
 found pleasant, Gordon Romilly broke 
 through the reserve he had hitherto main- 
 tained towards the members of the Ootaca- 
 mund Club, and, stepping from his lofty 
 pedestal, condescended to mix in their 
 society, and join in their amusements. 
 
 He did not, to his misfortune, find a 
 second Homer there (for the presence of his 
 sensible and kind-hearted friend at this 
 time might have been the saving of him), 
 but there were several liberal-minded gen- 
 tlemen amongst them, who, taking in ac- 
 count the A.D.C/s youth and evident 
 bringing-up, consented to overlook his for- 
 mer haughty bearing, and make him wel- 
 come to their company. 
 
 But billiards, cards, and smoking, al- 
 though excellent adjuncts to this life, when 
 the rest of the stream runs smoothly, have
 
 288 VERONIQUE. 
 
 no power to dam up the course of a torrent 
 like interrupted love. Do what Captain 
 Romilly would to distract his wayward 
 fancy, the image of Veronique haunted it 
 by night and by day, until, when nearly 
 three weeks had elapsed from the time 
 when he had parted from her, he was so 
 tired of fighting with his own feelings, and 
 so disheartened by his want of success, that 
 he resolved to leave the hills again without 
 seeing her, and go down to Madras to 
 resume the duties of his appointment. 
 With which end in view he was one even- 
 ing bundling all his possessions pell-mell 
 into his portmanteaux, when his native ser- 
 vant appeared at his bedroom door, to say 
 that "the Roman priest' had asked to see 
 him, and was waiting down below. 
 
 " Show him up 1" cried Romilly. who, 
 surrounded by articles of all sorts, was 
 kneeling in shirt and trousers by the side 
 of one of his travelling cases. " Tell him 
 that I'm busy, and that if he wants to see 
 me he must come up to my bedroom, " 
 which direction was followed in a few
 
 GORDON ROMILLY'S DECISION. 289 
 
 minutes by the entrance of Pere Joseph in 
 the black canonical robe in which he 
 always paraded the cantonment. 
 
 " Monsieur, I fear that I disturb you I" 
 he said as Captain Romilly rose from his 
 position to greet him. 
 
 " Not at all, mon pere," exclaimed the 
 young officer with affected gaiety, for the 
 sight of the priest recalled some of his 
 most unpleasant recollections, " I am very 
 glad to see you, only you must find your- 
 self a chair to sit on. You see I am doing 
 a little packing, preparatory to a move." 
 
 " Another shooting excursion, Monsieur V 
 asked Pere Joseph with a smile. 
 
 " No, not exactly ! I'm going to give 
 over shooting for the present, and hand 
 ladies in to dinner again instead. I return 
 to Madras to-morrow !" 
 
 " So soon ! I did not imagine your leave 
 was so short — " 
 
 " No more it is ; it has a month still to 
 run, but I am sick of this place. There 
 is nothing to do here, nothing to see, and 
 no one to speak to — and it's so horribly 
 
 vol. i. 19
 
 290 VERONIQUE. 
 
 healthy that there's not the least chance of 
 a fellows falling ill and getting sent back 
 to England — so I consider that I am wast- 
 ing my precious time ; and am all im- 
 patience to get back to Madras and put my 
 liver out of order that I may work up for 
 an S.C." 
 
 " A strange desire, Monsieur, as some 
 people would think, but everyone knov 
 his own requirements best. Yet, as it 
 happens so, I am doubly glad that I took 
 the liberty of calling on you to-day, else I 
 should have missed the pleasure of seeing 
 you again." 
 
 " Oh ! I daresay I should have found 
 time to ride out to the bungalow between 
 this and that," said Captain Romilly, who 
 had intended studiously to avoid doing 
 anything of the kind ; but the priest, 
 though he bowed courteously as if he 
 believed him, did not take any further 
 notice of the remark. 
 
 " I had occasion to come into Ootaca- 
 miind this afternoon," he said, " to visit 
 some of my flock, and not having seen you,
 
 GORDON ItOMILLY's DECISION. 291 
 
 Monsieur, since you had the great kindness 
 to send me your valuable present (though 
 Veronique told me she had met you once 
 upon the hills), I could not resist making 
 an attempt to gain your presence, in order 
 that I might thank you in person for the 
 honour you conferred upon me." 
 
 "It is nothing — nothing I" said Captain 
 Romilly, trying to waive the subject of the 
 chair. " I trust that Mademoiselle is well ?" 
 
 " I am sorry to say that I do not think 
 she is well," replied Pere Joseph, " Vero- 
 nique has drooped visibly for some weeks 
 past, but then she has had great cause to 
 fret herself, Monsieur, and the mind 
 generally re-acts upon the body." 
 
 At this Gordon Romilly stopped short in 
 his employment, and coloured like a girl. 
 
 " What cause ?" he asked quickly. 
 
 He thought, perhaps, that the priest had 
 been questioning his niece on the subject 
 of her failing looks, and drawing from her 
 the reason of them, was there with the 
 intention of taking him to task as the 
 author and promoter of her melancholy. 
 
 19—2
 
 292 veroniqui:. 
 
 But such an idea was the very farthest 
 from Pere Joseph's mind. 
 
 " I don't know why I should hesitate to 
 tell you, Monsieur, who have shown so kind 
 an interest in all that concerns us, but 
 please to understand that it is to go no 
 farther. You have seen the young native 
 David, who lives with us," (Gordon Ptomilly 
 nodded). "He has been to me, from his 
 birth I may say (for he was only a few 
 days old when I first found him), as a son, 
 and to Veronique as a brother, and neither 
 of us supposed, till lately, that he had ever 
 cherished any thought or hope of becoming 
 otherwise." 
 
 Here Captain Rom illy threw down the 
 boots and brushes with which he had 
 armed himself, and taking his seat upon a 
 pile of coats and trousers, turned an 
 anxiously expectant face upon his visitor. 
 
 " Till within the last few weeks, Mon- 
 sieur, as I was telling you, I have always 
 imagined that David loved Veronique as a 
 sister and nothing more." 
 
 " But surely he could never be so pre-
 
 GORDON ROMILLY'S DECISION. 293 
 
 sumptuous !" interrupted the young officer 
 hastily. 
 
 " Unfortunately for his own happiness, 
 Monsieur, he is. Some trifling disagree- 
 ment between my niece and himself, drew 
 the truth from him, which came upon me 
 and her as a thunder clap. So unexpected 
 and hidden, indeed, was the intelligence 
 that Veronique could in no wise bring her- 
 self to believe that he desired her for his 
 wife ; and the scene of distress which 
 ensued was very trying, both to the girl 
 and poor David. He being resolute in his 
 insistance that she must have perceived his 
 passion, and she in hers, that she had never 
 dreamt of such a thing." 
 
 " As who would have done 1" exclaimed 
 Captain Romilly hotly, " they are as oppo- 
 site as night and day." 
 
 " No one can be more aware of the dif- 
 ference between them, Monsieur, than my 
 poor son," said Pere Joseph quietly ; "he is 
 very humble in his love, he only desires 
 that it should be known as such, and that 
 it is ready to do all things for her. So,
 
 294 VKRONIQUE. 
 
 seeing how his presence and dumb distress 
 upset my niece, I have sent David down to 
 the plains, to spend a couple of months 
 with my fellow labourer Pore Michel at 
 Coimbatore, for which he departed yester- 
 day. And there, for the present, the 
 matter rests. Whether it will never again 
 be revived between them, or whether after 
 a time Veronique may come to view his 
 proposals in a different light, I cannot say, 
 but-" 
 
 " But," interposed Gordon Komilly, who 
 had risen to his feet with a face on fire, at 
 the prospect presented to him, " you would 
 surely never give your consent to such a 
 sacrifice, mon pure. You would never per- 
 mit Veronique to marry a black — a native 
 — a nigger ? The very idea is too horrible 
 to contemplate." 
 
 " Monsieur I" replied the priest, who 
 evidently did not like the terms applied to 
 his adopted son, " David may not be of the 
 same blood or nation as ourselves, but he 
 has a heart equal to that of any white man, 
 and far superior to most. I have watched
 
 GORDON ROMILLY'S DECISION. 295 
 
 that lad from a little child, Monsieur ; I 
 know how noble and generous a nature his 
 is, and although I would never force the 
 inclination of Veronique in any direction, 
 I should be ashamed of her did I think 
 that her principal objection to this mar- 
 riage lay in the colour of my poor boy's 
 skin. A black skin, Monsieur, but a white 
 soul ! take my word for it ; and a man 
 likely to make the girl a better husband 
 than nine-tenths of the Europeans she will 
 meet out here. Besides, after all, should 
 she finally reject the suit of David, for 
 what is she reserved ? Perhaps, to be- 
 come the wife of a drunken soldier, or 
 to sink still lower, who can tell ? 
 Monsieur, at times my heart is very 
 heavy for Veronique : I see that she is 
 well-favoured and admired ; I know that 
 I must soon leave her penniless and unpro- 
 tected in this country, and I dread what 
 may become of her, if she is not happily 
 married beforehand. I cannot abandon her 
 to become the prey of any lawless nature 
 which she may meet ; I would rather see
 
 296 VERONIQUE. 
 
 her a wife, though against her own 
 will r 
 
 "Mon pere ! I will protect her against 
 every possible danger. Give Veronique to 
 me, and I will marry her to-morrow l M 
 
 If Gordon Romilly had drawn his pistols 
 from the case beside him, and pointed their 
 muzzles at Pere Joseph s breast, he could 
 not have more powerfully astonished him. 
 The priest was so taken aback by the un- 
 expected proposal, that he continued to 
 stare in silent dismay, as though he feared 
 that the gentleman before him had gone 
 mad ; whilst the A. D.C. in striving to make 
 his meaning clearer, did not tend to re-es- 
 tablish the fact of his sanity, by the torrent 
 of excited language which poured from his 
 lips. 
 
 " Give her to me, Pere Joseph, and I will 
 marry her to-morrow — she is not fretting 
 about Davids suit, or any such rubbish, 
 the darling ! she is fretting about myself, 
 and I know it as plainly as though she had 
 told me; I said that I loved her, when I 
 met her on the hills, but I did not say what
 
 GORDON ROMILLY's DECISION. 297 
 
 I know now, that it is impossible for me to 
 live without her. I was going down to 
 Madras to try what change of scene and 
 place might do for me ; but I know I should 
 have been back here again in a couple of 
 days, so I may as well save myself the 
 journey. Only say I may have her, more 
 pdre, and 111 procure longer leave, or return 
 to fetch her, or do anything you think, fit, 
 in order to make her my wife." 
 
 In his eagerness to secure the promise 
 that Veronique should be his, Gordon 
 Romilly had totally forgotten his father's 
 anger, and its probable consequences ; he 
 had forgotten everything, in fact, except the 
 fear that the girl whom he had honoured 
 with his love, should be sacrificed to his 
 dusky rival. He stood before Pere Joseph, 
 with a glowing face and extended arm, 
 vowing and swearing as though he had 
 no one in the world but himself to con- 
 sult on the subject of his wishes or in- 
 tentions. 
 
 " But stay ! mon jils" said the priest, 
 when he had a little recovered his intense
 
 298 vf;Ko.\rouE. 
 
 surprise, " stay a minute, and let me fully 
 understand what you are saying. If I have 
 heard you aright, you love, or fancy that 
 you love, my niece, and wish to make her 
 your wife. This is a very startling and 
 wonderful proposition to me, who have 
 heard nothing of it up to this moment, but 
 at the same time it cannot fail to be a very 
 gratifying one. Yet, there is one important 
 question to be first considered — what would 
 your family say to such a marriage ¥' 
 
 At this appeal Captain Romilly s face 
 visibly lengthened. Hitherto he had 
 ignored Lord Erskine HomiHy's opinions 
 on the subject, but he knew what they 
 would be too well to continue to do so, 
 when brought so palpably to his recollec- 
 tion ; so he stammered as he replied — 
 
 " I would marry Veronique directly. 
 Pere Joseph, as I said before, but I don't 
 think I should venture all at once to make 
 my marriage known to my family. They 
 have certain prejudices and fancies, which I 
 scorn to hold, and it might require a little 
 time for preparation before I broke the
 
 GORDON ROMILLY'S DECISION. 290 
 
 news to them. But what difference can 
 that make ?" 
 
 Yet that it did make a difference Gordon 
 Romilly soon perceived from the priest's 
 continued silence and look of grave ab- 
 straction. 
 
 " See here, mon p&re" continued the 
 young man, frankly, "I am of age, it is 
 true, but I come of a noble family, and my 
 father, Lord Erskine Romilly, has very high 
 ideas about the woman whom I shall make 
 my wife. At present I am dependent upon 
 him for the best part of my income, and 
 any act which he considered a dereliction of 
 duty on my part, might cause him to with- 
 draw his aid from me.. But my father is an 
 old man, who at his death must leave me a 
 sufficient sum of money to make me inde- 
 pendent, and even without that prospect I 
 am rising in my profession every year, and 
 shall soon be able to do without aid from 
 anyone. Meanwhile, let me have Vero- 
 nique for my wife, and when I leave this 
 country, if my father still lives, and I stand 
 in the army where I do at present, I will
 
 300 VERONIQUE. 
 
 risk everything, both friends and fortune, 
 in order to acknowledge her right to the 
 station I shall have given her." 
 
 Still Pere Joseph continued to look 
 thoughtful. 
 
 "Your proposal is a very noble one, 
 Monsieur, a very noble and a very generous 
 one ; and I think you must really be at- 
 tached to Veronique to make it, but with 
 all its promised advantages it is not to be 
 accepted without due deliberation. You 
 offer me the strongest temptation with 
 which it is possible I should be assailed — 
 the temptation of seeing my child make a 
 marriage far above what even her worth or 
 beauty could merit, or my highest ambition 
 desire. Yet there is much to be said before- 
 hand. Veronique is poor and lowly-born, 
 and imperfectly educated, but she must not 
 go to a man who will tire of her, or reproach 
 her, or be ashamed of her !" 
 
 " Can you imagine I should be so ba>i 
 said Rom illy, indignantly. 
 
 " No, Monsieur ! I do not, but at present 
 I can say no more about it. Her birth is
 
 GORDON ROMILLY's DECISION. 301 
 
 so much beneath yours, that you must not 
 act in the matter without a grave examina- 
 tion of your own feelings. At the same 
 time, her virtue is so much above that of 
 any man, that it is my part to see that it 
 be not hastily thrown away. And, as yet, 
 I am not even aware if the child loves you." 
 
 " Ask her I" exclaimed Captain Romilly, 
 the light of expectation dancing in his eye, 
 " take your answer from her own lips, mon 
 pere. 
 
 " I will do so, Monsieur, and meanwhile, 
 this most sudden and unexpected proposal 
 of yours has so upset me that I ask your 
 permission to retire. I want to get home* 
 that I may ponder deliberately over this 
 important question, amidst the quiet of my 
 own thoughts." 
 
 " And when may I follow you ?" asked 
 the young man, eagerly. 
 
 The old man smiled ; such a smile as 
 would almost have led one to believe that 
 at some time he had experienced the same 
 eagerness, and could feel for it. 
 
 " To-morrow evening, if you do not hear
 
 302 V&iONIQUE. 
 
 from me, before, mon Jlls" he answered, 
 laying his hand for a moment on Gordon 
 Romilly's head ; and with that he quitted 
 the apartment, and left the A.D.C. to his 
 own reflections.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 HONEY VERSUS MONEY. 
 
 The deed was done. Gordon Romilly had 
 pledged his word that, always supposing 
 she accepted him, he would marry Vero- 
 nique Moore ; and as a gentleman and a 
 man of honour, it was impossible that he 
 should now draw back. So he inwardly 
 decided, as left to the cooling influences of 
 solitude and silence, he sat down to calmly 
 review what had passed between himself 
 and Pere Joseph. 
 
 Not that he repented of the promise 
 which he had so rashly given ; on the con- 
 trary, he was excited with pleasure as he 
 reflected that in the delirium of the moment 
 he had leapt the barrier, which he scarcely
 
 304 VERONIQUE. 
 
 would have dared attempt by the light of 
 common sense. It is true that he felt an 
 occasional qualm of conscience as the 
 thought of his fathers anger, and the ob- 
 jections of the entire family, rose to his 
 mind ; but he salved it over, by remember- 
 ing that the marriage was to be a private 
 one, and that if it suited his convenience 
 to keep it so for the next ten years, there 
 was no one of sufficient influence to gainsay 
 his decision. With his usual reckless dis- 
 regard of consequences, Captain Ptomilly 
 refused to look forward to all the (/ iSsag re- 
 mem which must inevitably result from 
 such an union. Veronique stood in the 
 path before him, smiling, with extended 
 arms, and he saw but that one image, and 
 rushed forward, panting and breathless, to 
 secure it, and had any other incentive been 
 needed to spur him onward in his headlong 
 course, it would have been amply supplied 
 by a vision of the unfortunate David, now 
 broiling beneath the sun of Coimbatore, but 
 ready at any moment, on the field becoming 
 clear, to return and walk over the course.
 
 HONEY VERSUS MONEY. 305 
 
 For the rest of the evening Captain Ho- 
 rn illy indulged in the most extravagant 
 spirits, whistling, singing and dancing about 
 his room, whilst he turned all the contents 
 of his portmanteau out upon the floor again, 
 and flew from one occupation to another 
 with the heedlessness of a boy who has 
 gamed an unexpected holiday, and does not 
 know what to do in order to express his 
 happiness. At the same time, it was diffi- 
 cult even for himself to say whether his 
 gaiety were assumed or real. He antici- 
 pated what lay before him as much as it 
 was possible for a man to do, but he had 
 an uneasy sense the while of being about to 
 take a great responsibility upon himself, 
 and to promise more perhaps than he should 
 be able to perform ; and this uneasy sensa- 
 tion oppressed him, more or less, from that 
 time forward, although he never admitted 
 that he felt it, and usually carried it off 
 with a vast amount of whistling and affected 
 laughter. 
 
 Receiving no communication from Pere 
 Joseph on the following day, at about five 
 
 VOL. I. 120
 
 :306 VERONIQUE. 
 
 o'clock he mounted his pony, and took the 
 road to the priest's bungalow, glowing with 
 the anticipation of falling into the arms of 
 Veronique as soon as ever he arrived there. 
 But in this hope he was disappointed, for 
 as soon as the sound of his pony's hoofs was 
 heard on the path outside the garden, Pere 
 Joseph himself appeared at the gate, and 
 took the reins from him. 
 
 " Be good enough to walk inside, Mon- 
 sieur," he said, " and take a seat, until I 
 have put your pony in the stable," and 
 when Captain Bomilly had done as he de- 
 sired him, he found that the room was 
 vacant. 
 
 " Veronique ! Veronique ! my darling ! 
 come down to me f he whispered loudly 
 up the bedroom staircase, but no Veronique 
 appeared in answer to his summons, and 
 Pere Joseph, catching him in the act, 
 smiled at his discomfiture. 
 
 " She will not come down, Monsieur," he 
 said, quietly, "until I give her leave. You 
 must excuse me if I say that I cannot 
 allow you to have any communication with
 
 HONEY VERSUS MONEY. 307 
 
 her until you and I have had a little further 
 talk together." 
 
 He motioned the A.D.C. to a chair, as 
 he spoke, and Gordon Romilly sat down, 
 burning with impatience, and in a mood 
 to make any promises that might be re- 
 quired of him, so long as the coming inter- 
 view w^ere speedily concluded. 
 
 " Monsieur !" commenced the priest, who 
 appeared most distractingly cool in the 
 lovers impatient eyes, " the news which 
 you conveyed to me yesterday has caused 
 me a sleepless night." 
 
 u Very sorry to hear it, I'm sure 1" ex- 
 claimed Captain Romilly, who was wonder- 
 ing inwardly what earthly difference that 
 could make to him. 
 
 " Yes," resumed Pere Joseph, " I came 
 home, and I questioned Veronique, and 
 discovered (more from her blushes and her 
 silence than her words) that she was as well 
 inclined towards your suit, Monsieur, as she 
 is averse to that of poor David !" 
 
 " Didn't I tell you so V interrupted the 
 A.D.C, with a bright smile. 
 
 20—2
 
 308 vi':ronique. 
 
 " Yes ! it was not more than I expected, 
 for who could think otherwise, with such a 
 dazzling prospect opened to the child ? 
 But she is but a child, Monsieur, she com- 
 pleted her seventeenth year two months 
 ago, and if she had not an older head to 
 think for her, she might fall into all manner 
 of trouble and distress. Before I let you 
 see her, or proceed any further in this mat- 
 ter, therefore, I must understand fully what 
 are your intentions regarding her." 
 
 " I told them to you yesterday," replied 
 Romilly, rather curtly, for he feared that 
 Pere Joseph might be about to stipulate for 
 a public marriage. " I can't marry your 
 niece openly, nor acknowledge her as my 
 wife just at present, because it would be 
 the means of making me quarrel with my 
 family ; but I will marry her privately, if 
 you will consent to my doing so, and she 
 shall enjoy all the privileges of my name 
 and station until she can publicly assume 
 them. I cannot say more I" 
 
 " Some would say, Monsieur, that con- 
 sidering you are speaking of a soldier's
 
 HONEY VERSUS MONEY. o09 
 
 daughter, you had already said too much ; 
 yet Veronique is too dear to me to be given 
 to you on any other terms. But in what 
 manner do you intend her to live after she 
 shall have become your wife ? I am con- 
 tent that she, for awhile, shall dispense 
 with the glory of being acknowledged as 
 such ; but I could not consent to see her 
 maiden name dishonoured, without the 
 means of confuting any probable slander 
 cast upon it for your sake." 
 
 " Do not be afraid for Veronique's name 
 or reputation, mon pere" said the young 
 officer, gaily, " my wife's will be as dear to 
 me as my own. I shall leave her on the 
 Hills, either with yourself, or in any posi- 
 tion that you may think most desirable ; 
 and I promise you that if at any time my 
 visits to her shall prove a source of scandal, 
 I will take her down to Madras with me 
 at once, and acknowledge her as Mrs. 
 Komilly." 
 
 At the mention of that name, the priest's 
 breast heaved with gratified ambition, and 
 all his remaining objections to the marriage
 
 310 VK RON I QUE. 
 
 faded beneath the influence of his master 
 passion. 
 
 "It is enough, mon jils," he said, rising 
 from his seat, " if you promise me that, I 
 have nothing further to say. Veronique 
 may well put up with a little privation and 
 a little delay, for the sake of the brilliant 
 future which opens before her. But you 
 have still to ask her own opinion on the 
 subject," he added, smiling, " and I will 
 not therefore keep her from you, longer." 
 
 He walked to the foot of the staircase, 
 calling " Veronique I" and then he turned 
 to leave the room. 
 
 " She will not keep you waiting, Mon- 
 sieur," he said with a gentle inclination of 
 the head, " and meanwhile I will attend to 
 the wants of your pony. Since my poor 
 lad's departure, the care of the cattle has 
 devolved upon myself," with which words 
 Pere Joseph passed into the verandah, and 
 Gordon Romilly took up the station he had 
 vacated at the bottom of the staircase. In 
 another moment, she was before him. In 
 another moment, the door which led from
 
 HONEY VERSUS MONEY. 311 
 
 the upper storey was flung open, and 
 Veronique in holiday costume, with red 
 ribbons twisted in her black plaits of hair, 
 had set her foot upon the staircase, and 
 meeting the glowing, ardent glance directed 
 upwards to attend her coming, stood there, 
 blushing and trembling from head to foot, 
 too bashful to advance, and too delighted 
 to retreat. 
 
 " Come here, Veronique," said Gordon 
 Romilly, holding out his arms to receive 
 her, " come here, and tell me, if you'll be 
 my little wife !" 
 
 " Voire femme" exclaimed the girl, with- 
 out moving from her position, " Monsieur I 
 c'est impossible, je ne peux pas le croire." 
 
 " Say that it shall be so, Veronique, and 
 111 soon make you believe it! But, per- 
 haps, you would rather not T 
 
 " Monsieur I" in a tone of remonstrance. 
 
 "Well, come down here then, and tell 
 me what you wish." She advanced a few 
 steps timidly towards him, and he put out 
 his hand and pulled her down the remainder 
 of the flight, until she rested in the circle 
 of his embrace.
 
 312 VERONIQUE. 
 
 " Will you marry me, Veronique ?" ki 
 ing her. 
 
 " Mais out, Monsieur." 
 
 " Will you be my wife ?" kissing her 
 again. 
 
 " Mais oui, Monsieur." 
 
 " Will you ever call me ' Monsieur ' 
 again « 
 
 " Mais oui, Monsieur" replied Veronique, 
 not knowing what she said, in her coy 
 struggles to escape from the vehement 
 embraces which frightened rather than as- 
 sured her. " Sainte Mere de Dieu ! je vans 
 benis pour toutes vos bontes" murmured 
 the girl with uplifted eyes, as Gordon 
 Romilly at last released her from his arms, 
 and she could sufficiently collect her agitated 
 thoughts to remember the good fortune 
 which had fallen upon her. As she uttered 
 her simple prayer the little Christian 
 turned towards the bSnitier, and solemnly 
 crossing herself with its holy water, laid 
 her wet fingers lightly upon Romilly s fore- 
 head. 
 
 "All! que je suis lieu reuse que VOU8 etes
 
 HOXEY VERSUS MONEY. 313 
 
 chretien, Monsieur Gor-don" she exclaimed 
 joyfully, "fussiez-vous reste ten heretique, 
 notre mariage eat ete impossible I" 
 
 But what was her surprise at the conclu- 
 sion of this innocent speech, to see her 
 lover, who had had his eager gaze fixed 
 upon her face at the commencement, turn 
 suddenly from the staircase and herself, 
 and walk away to take up a position by the 
 window which looked into the garden. 
 Veronique could not imagine what had 
 happened to disturb him, but she was too 
 shy and too little familiar with Captain 
 Romilly to demand an immediate explana- 
 tion. So she only ventured to follow as far 
 as the table, and to stand there in silent 
 expectation, whilst she regarded the back 
 of his figure with her wistful eyes. 
 Meanwhile, his thoughts were in such a 
 whirl that he hardly remembered where he 
 was, nor how strange his conduct must ap- 
 pear to her, for her words had struck his 
 conscience like a voice from heaven. Since 
 the time that he had contemplated marry- 
 ing Veronique Moore, until that moment,
 
 314 VEROXIQUE. 
 
 he had never once thought of the difference 
 in their religion, nor of the difficulties that 
 fact must throw in the way of a private 
 union. To wed her as a Roman Catholic, 
 in the little chapel beside which he stood, 
 and with her uncle as officiating priest, 
 would be easy enough, but to have a second 
 ceremony performed in the Protestant 
 church at Ootacamund, would be to render 
 the business patent to all India. It was 
 impossible ; it was not to be thought of ; he 
 must go at once, and however unpleasant 
 for himself, confess to Pere Joseph the folly 
 of which he had been guilty in concealing 
 the truth respecting his religion, and point 
 out to him the obstacles it would throw in 
 the furtherance of the plan which they had 
 agreed upon. 
 
 " Ai-je dit quelque chose pour vous de- 
 plaire ?' enquired the gentle voice of 
 Yeronique, by his side, and Gordon Pomilly 
 started from his reverie to see two tender 
 blue eyes, moistened with the fear of his 
 displeasure, and two rosy parted lips, 
 quivering with suppressed emotion. All
 
 HONEY VERSUS MONEY. 315 
 
 his ideas changed at the sight. She loved 
 him, and he had promised to marry her, and 
 the powers of darkness should not wrest 
 her from him now. 
 
 " No, my darling!" he replied, fervently, 
 as he opened his arms again, and took the 
 slight form into his embrace, "a sudden 
 thought struck me that I am not worthy 
 enough to be your husband, but if you 
 will take me as I am, Veronique, with all 
 my sins upon my head, 111 cleave to you as 
 fast and firmly as any other man." 
 
 He said this, thinking to himself the while, 
 that the Roman Catholic ceremony should 
 be as binding on him as though he were of 
 the same faith as herself; and that when 
 he acknowledged her as his wife before all 
 the world, he would marry her over again 
 in his own church, and silence her scruples 
 for evermore. It did not take much trouble 
 on his part to reassure Veronique's trem- 
 bling fears, nor to make her light happy 
 laugh ring through the little bungalow 
 again ; and Gordon Romilly wished that 
 he could as easily have shaken off the gloom
 
 316 VERONIQUE. 
 
 which oppressed himself, whenever he 
 thought of the deception he had practised 
 on her, or heard the allusions made by 
 Pore Joseph or his niece, to the religion 
 which they supposed to be common to all 
 three. 
 
 He was moody and silent for the remain- 
 der of the evening, and his manner would 
 have excited suspicion in any one less 
 simple than the priest, or less trusting than 
 Veronique ; but he turned off their kind 
 enquiries as to the cause with the conve- 
 nient plea of headache, and, on the promise 
 of returning on the morrow, rose early to 
 take his leave. 
 
 It was Veronique who, despite all his 
 protestations, fetched his pony from the 
 stable this time, and it was Veronique who 
 stood in the moonlight by the garden gate 4 
 to see her gallant lover ride away. 
 
 " Good -night, my pretty one !" said 
 Gordon Romilly, trying to speak cheerfully 
 in order to atone for his late gloom. 
 
 " Bon soir" she whispered, " et que Di< u 
 te garde /"
 
 HONEY VERSUS MONEY. 317 
 
 " But you must learn to talk English 
 now, my darling, that you have promised 
 to become an Englishman's wife," said the 
 young officer in reply ; " you must drop 
 that habit of falling back on French every 
 second minute, or I shan't believe that I 
 have married an Irish girl." 
 
 She smiled at this rebuke, and repeated 
 her sentence. 
 
 " Good-night, Monsieur, and take good 
 care of yourself." 
 
 " Good-night — what ?" bending from his 
 saddle-bow to catch her half-murmured 
 words ; but Veronique, conscious of what 
 she had said, was too much ashamed to 
 repeat it. 
 
 " Call me by my proper name," said 
 Romilly imperatively, "without any Mon- 
 sieur attached to it at all ;" and the coming 
 lordship seemed to cast its shadow on her 
 beforehand, for she obeyed him without 
 hesitation — 
 
 " Good-night, Gordon, mon bien-aime /" 
 
 The tone in which she uttered these 
 words was so fervent that Captain Romilly
 
 318 VERONIQUE. 
 
 lifted up the pretty face caressingly laid 
 against his saddle-bow, and regarded it 
 earnestly. 
 
 " Do you love me then so much, Vero- 
 nique f 
 
 " Gov -don, tu le sais" she answered, and 
 her glowing eyes met his, and mingled with 
 them. He dropped the hand with which 
 he had upheld her face, and heaved a sigh. 
 
 " Good-night, then, Vcronique ; good- 
 night, and don't forget to pray that I may 
 make as good a husband as you deserve to 
 have/' and with that he rode away on the 
 moonlit path, and left her standing by 
 the gate alone. As he did so, his heart 
 was full of trouble and confusion. He knew 
 that he was going to do a wrong thing, and 
 his principles were just correct enough to 
 forbid his doing it without compunction, 
 whilst they were not of sufficient force to 
 prevent his doiug it at all. He was quite 
 ready to admit that in the eyes of the law 
 he had no right to marry Veronique Moore 
 as a Roman Catholic ; at the same time he 
 argued that the marriage would be quite as
 
 HONEY VERSUS MONEY. 319 
 
 much a marriage in the eyes of Heaven, 
 and therefore, whilst he adhered to the 
 obligations incurred by it, he should not 
 sin. And to strengthen this decision came 
 the thought of Veronique's love, and of her 
 disappointment if he failed to keep his 
 word ; and, after all, as he said to himself, 
 he could at any moment marry her over 
 again according to the rites of the Pro- 
 testant church, and put the matter straight. 
 He intended to inform her of his own faith 
 as soon as she should be irrevocably his ; 
 and to trust to her affection to pardon him 
 for the deception practised on her. 
 
 Meanwhile it must be one of two things, 
 either he must be united to Veronique 
 under her present belief, or not at all, for a 
 wedding at Ootacamund was not to be con- 
 templated for a moment. And, reasoning 
 thus to suit his own convenience, Captain 
 Homilly arrived at the conclusion that his 
 first intentions must hold good, for to 
 surrender his hopes of possessing the 
 sparkling, fascinating girl who had shown 
 him so much of her heart that evening
 
 320 VERONIQUE. 
 
 was, in his estimation, a calamity not to be 
 borne. 
 
 So he quieted his conscience as best he 
 might, although it pricked him, not only 
 then, but many a time afterwards, when 
 the old priest, in his anxiety to discover 
 the state of mind of his future nephew, 
 probed him with queries on the subject of 
 religion, from which he could barely escape 
 with truth. 
 
 The days went on, and before a week 
 had elapsed all the preliminaries necessary 
 for the simple marriage had been arranged. 
 As the ceremony was to be kept a strict 
 secret, not only from Romilly's friends, but 
 from David himself, it was agreed that the 
 bridegroom should leave Ootacamund, as 
 for a shooting excursion, and go and spend 
 a fortnight at the priests bungalow instead. 
 To this end he dispatched his native atten- 
 dants and Arab horse (which by this time 
 had quite recovered its lameness) down to 
 Bandypoor the day before, with orders to 
 remain there until they heard from him, 
 and casually giving out that he expected to
 
 HONEY VERSUS MONEY. 321 
 
 be absent for some time on a trip into the 
 jungle, bade farewell to his acquaintances 
 at the club, and rode away on his Pegu to 
 the place of appointment. 
 
 As it was necessary that there should 
 be witnesses to the nuptials, Pere Joseph 
 procured the assistance of some of his native 
 converts, who lived still further from the 
 Cantonment than he did, and, speaking no 
 English, were not likely to blab the secret 
 to any one of importance ; and thus, one 
 morning, surrounded by three or four East 
 Indians, alone, Gordon Romilly received 
 the hand of Veronique Moore from her 
 uncle, and made her, to all intents and pur- 
 poses, his wife. When the hour really 
 arrived, he was too happy and elated to 
 permit the illegality of the ceremony to 
 disturb his bliss ; and, notwithstanding all 
 his former fickleness, notwithstanding his 
 present deception, and the gloom in which 
 his future actions were enveloped, Gordon 
 Romilly 's heart beat as truly towards 
 Veronique on the day he married her as 
 ever bridegroom's beat towards his bride. 
 
 vol. I. 21
 
 322 VERONIQUE. 
 
 He did not love her as well or as faith- 
 fully, perhaps, as some men can love ; but 
 he loved her as passionately as it was in 
 his nature to do. And as Veronique, in 
 her guileless innocence of love or its require- 
 ments, had no magic charm by which to 
 gauge the depths of his affection, she also, 
 for the time being, was supremely blest. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 UILLINQ, PBINTKU, GUILDFORD.
 
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