The Outcaste

by F. E. Penny

It was the day after Alderbury's departure. The car had come back bringing a letter for Eola, the first she had received since his love had been declared. She read it in the privacy of her room, lingering over the closely-written sheets as Mrs. Hulver had lingered over the folding and putting away of the uniform that had belonged to the father of her boy.

The housekeeper was still in ignorance of what had passed between Eola and the guest. Her mind had been too full of anxiety over Ananda's welfare to admit of any curiosity concerning the behaviour of other people. She knew that she ran a risk in extending the helping hand to the persecuted 'vert; but she had carried it through without faltering.

Without any explanations she had ordered his luggage to be placed in the missionary's cart and told the driver that he was to start that evening, a command that was gladly obeyed.

While the dinner was still proceeding Mrs. Hulver and her scarlet-coated companion left the house presumably for a walk. A jutka was picked up outside, and directed to take the same road as that followed by the cart. The pony went much faster than the slowly moving cattle, and soon overtook and passed them.

Half an hour later the missionary's servant was roused, and to his intense astonishment confronted by the Principal's housekeeper. By her side stood a native gentleman dressed in European clothes and wearing a neat turban. As Alderbury's servant had never seen Ananda he did not recognise Mrs. Hulver's companion.

"You will carry on this friend of mine to the mission station," she said, "and you will tell the master when you see him that I gave you the order."

The servants all understood the varied modulations of her voice. In this case it was comprehended, though not expressed, that a breach of her confidence would be resented, and bring the individual into her black books. At the same time there was a chink of silver that purchased silence and secured obedience. Ananda took Alderbury's place on the mattress. The servant seated himself near the driver and the cart started on its homeward journey. By daylight it should have crossed the border and be safe in British territory; and by nine o'clock it should be home. As no warning had been given to Ananda's family it was not likely that he would be pursued or discovered; and Mrs. Hulver saw the car swallowed up in the darkness of the night with a sigh of relief.

She walked back to the place where she had directed the jutka to wait for her, carrying the uniform, which had been exchanged under cover of the darkness for the tweed suit, hidden under her cloak. She was back at the college house before eleven.

The following day, on which she was supposed to be seeing young William off by the morning mail was spent at the house of a Eurasian friend in the town. Eola, suspecting nothing and occupied with her own affairs, asked no questions; and it was not till the morning after Alderbury's departure that she and Mrs. Hulver met.

The housekeeper accompanied by Ramachetty and the cook presented herself for the usual ritual of ordering dinner. During the housekeeping business Mrs. Hulver confined herself rigidly to the subject of the menu. She dared not trust herself to speak of anything else lest her tongue should slip and betray her. The secret must be kept at all costs from Dr. Wenaston and from the people in the town. The sweeper might be trusted. He had been a faithful friend all along, and one day his fidelity would be rewarded by Ananda. Of that she was sure, although the man did not look for any recompense. All that he had done had been the result of his love for the young master he had known and served in time past. The change of faith on the part of Ananda did not affect him. He knew nothing of the intricate ceremonialism of the caste Hindus. His religion was simple animism, the propitiation of the power of evil. If he had had any opinion to offer, it would have been that his master had come under the influence of an evil spirit, and would do well to make an offering of blood. Mrs. Hulver considered that the rest of the servants might also be trusted. The real identity of young William had never been known to them, and he remained Mrs. Hulver's sick son to the end.