From Colvin Fraser, Esq., to Mrs Hurstwood.
Muxidavad, June ye 8th, Evening.
My pen, madam, ought by rights to be dipped in joy, since it has the charming task of announcing to the most faithful of friends that the dear sufferer, in whose fate she and I have experienced a joint concern, is now safely restored to the society of her countrymen, and that no long time will, I trust, elapse, before she hastens to Calcutta to embrace her Mrs Hurstwood. This agreeable news, you’ll say, should stimulate me to impart it in fitting terms, but to tell you the truth, madam, I have begun this letter already three times over, for I can’t satisfy myself in communicating the rest of my intelligence. ’Tis not only that I lack the fitting words for so tremendous an announcement, my heart fails me in imagining Mrs Hurstwood’s scorn and resentment on hearing of my presumption; yet I would cheerfully brave even these did my mind supply me with terms appropriate to my situation, but rather than degrade the occasion by my poverty of speech, I’ll leave my news untold. In short, madam, I can’t write; my heart is too full. My revered and obliging friend Dr Dacre will take up the task I have abandoned, and permit me to subscribe myself, Mrs Hurstwood’s most obedient, humble servant,
C. Fraser.
From the Rev. Dr Dacre to Mrs Hurstwood.
Mucksadabad, June ye 8th, Midnight.
In obedience, madam, to the urgent entreaty of my young friend Lieutenant Fraser, I venture to intrude myself upon the notice of Mrs Hurstwood, confiding in that sprightly and indulgent temper of which none can be ignorant that have been in company with the gentlemen whom she honours with her acquaintance—a favoured band in which it is my earnest desire to be numbered at the earliest possible period. In the joyful confusion of mind which is the natural accompaniment of Mr Fraser’s present situation, he has been unable to direct me in any way in the task I have undertaken, and I purpose, therefore, to follow the extremely just precedent which I understand him to have established in his former epistles to Mrs Hurstwood, and relate the events of this evening in their proper historic order. If, in so doing, I should lay myself open to that reproach which has been recorded against old men by my honoured friend Mr Samuel Johnson, that they too often grow narrative in their age, and weary where they hope to please, let my fair correspondent be so gracious as to ascribe the fault to the respectful awe in which I stand of her, and not either to my subject or my ill-will.
Seated this evening, madam, upon the varendar here with my obliging host, Mr Watts, I took occasion to remark upon the absence of the two young gentlemen, Mr Fraser and Mr Ranger, neither of whom I had seen since early morning.
“Mr Ranger I sent to Maudipore on an errand as soon as it was cool,” replied Mr Watts, “and I heard him come in a while ago. As for the Lieutenant, he’s engaged on his own business, but what that is I don’t know, nor do I ask it.”
“What’s this noise of shouting and singing that I hear approaching?” I asked him. “Sure there’s no idol-pagoda so close as that?”