This was said because I was forced to complete my riding-dress with a laced hat and undress frock of Mr Fraser’s, suiting very well with my skirt, which is of a dark blue colour, but giving me (I can’t deny) something of the air of the young ladies rebuked by Mr Spectator for aping men. Indeed, I think I should figure very passably in Hyde Park, unless the mode has altered since I left England.
“Don’t tease the lady, sir,” says Mr Watts. “She has acted like a woman of sense in dressing herself so as to attract as little attention as possible to our party. She might pass for a man at a very short distance.”
If this was said to comfort me it failed of its effect, but I said nothing as we walked out through the garden to a spot remote from the servants’ quarters, where the horses were waiting, each with its groom, called a syce, who can keep pace with his beast for several hours, even when the speed is very great. The Tartar, who had seen to the security of all the straps and buckles, was already mounted, and several dogkeepers, holding greyhounds in leashes, were present to give our evasion the air of a simple hunting-party. Having mounted (Mr Fraser had devised a sort of side-saddle for me, with the aid of a stirrup fastened over a peg) we rode out gently to the southward for some miles, feigning to be very eager in the search for antelopes or game of any kind, but displaying the utmost care not to fatigue the horses. Mr Ranger seemed to find this leisurely progress very wearisome, for he began presently to rally Mr Fraser on his appearance in the saddle, diverting himself with various odd comparisons respecting sailors on horseback. This mockery I should have found very annoying had I believed it to be well grounded, but Mr Fraser was accustomed to riding in his early youth, and has never neglected the accomplishment when on shore, so that he acquits himself with as much elegance as any gentleman need exhibit, and was able to endure Mr Ranger’s raillery with the greatest complaisance. The young gentleman was so good-humoured as not to turn his attention to me, or I should have been less happy than my spouse, not having mounted a horse for over a year, but riding gently over level ground I found myself easy enough. Having started on our ride when it wanted about an hour to sunset, we had gone over six miles before darkness began to come on, which happens very suddenly in these countries, and Mr Watts drew rein at the summit of a slight eminence.
“See here,” he said to the dogkeepers, “we don’t seem to discover any game, so ’tis scarce worth while to keep the dogs out longer. Take ’em back to Moidapore at once. The gentlemen and I will ride quietly round by Cossimbuzar, and sup there before returning, and we’ll hope for better luck another evening.”
The dogkeepers obeying without any reluctance (for the Indians have a great fear of the darkness, both on account of wild beasts and of evil spirits), Mr Watts called upon us to follow him, and rid smartly down the further side of the rise.
“A moment back,” he said, “before it was grown so dark, I catched sight of two men coming from the south, and if they en’t wandering juggies[01] they’re cossids.”
We came upon the men before long, for it seemed that they had perceived our figures against the sky upon the hill-top, and directed their steps towards us. One of them was known to Mr Watts, who cried out to him to say where he had left Colonel Clive, to which he replied that ’twas at Chandernagore, but that he was only halting there for the night on his march to Muxadavad. This news served to raise all our spirits, which the cossid observing, he increased the effect by delivering to Mr Watts a letter which he had carried concealed in the folds of his turbant (for so scanty is the clothing of these swift messengers that they have no other place in which to deposit the missives with which they are charged), and which caused our leader infinite delight.
“Good!” he cried. “Here’s the Colonel’s letter desiring me to quit Muxadavad and join him with all possible speed. He will send forward boats with a military escort to the point where the Jelingeer[02] River meets this from Cossimbuzar, which will cut a fine slice off our journey, and he looks to have reached Culnah before we meet him.”
Bidding the cossids continue their journey to the factory and refresh themselves there, Mr Watts saw them out of sight and then turned to us.
“Now, my good friends, our real work is to begin. Madam, allow me to assist you to dismount. Mr Fraser will put his saddle on your horse, and you’ll find it best to ride behind him. Mirza Shaw will lead t’other nag, and you can change to it again half-way. Are your pistols charged, gentlemen, and your swords loose in the scabbards? We may have to fight our way to-night—indeed it’s scarce probable we shall escape without a tussle with the blackfellows—and in such a case all will hang on our being able to ride ’em down before they see how few we are.”