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But in the house behind him all was dark. He had come to an abode of desolation and mourning; and his heart sank and he was attacked with forebodings. At last in the passage behind him there was a shuffling of feet and a gleam of white. The Memsahib would receive him. Thresk was shown into the drawing-room. That room too was unlit.
She held the young one close to her. That one seemed worn out with grief and terror. Your memsahib sat upright; she was very pale and changed from the time I saw her that evening, but she held her head high, and looked almost scornfully at the men who shook their fists and cried at her." "And they put them with the other women that they have taken prisoners?" Rujub hesitated.
Lo, here is a new satirist arisen, Sarah Jeannette Duncan, who, in "The Simple Adventures of a Memsahib," sketches Anglo-Indian society in a manner that would not discredit Thackeray and with something, too, of Thackeray's haunting sense of the pathos of the dead Past and the flying Present.
A good officer, he still remained Deputy Commissioner, the highest official of the district, but the social excellence was wiped out he was a pariah, an outcast. And the girl, who now could not remain just a native, could not attain to the dignity of a Deputy-Commissioner Memsahib. Barlow knew several such.
In Tooni's pocket a little black book swung to and fro; it was the memsahib's book; and in the beginning of the firing, before the fever came, Tooni had seen the memsahib reading it long and often. They had not been killed in consequence, Tooni thought; there must be a protecting charm in the little black book; so she slipped it into her pocket. They left the looking-glass behind.
But one thing was common to all: a dead sullenness. "Why do you not obey the memsahib?" Kingozi asked in a reasonable tone. No one answered for some time. Finally the man who had been shot at replied. "There is no water. We are very tired. We cannot go on without water." "How can you get water if you do not go on?"
"Once, and for all, Mahommed Khan, I will not have you torture him in here!" "Memsahib, I have yet to ride for succor! At daybreak, when these Hindus learn that the guns will not come back, they will rise to a man. Even now we must find a hiding-place or it is not good even to think what I might find on my return!" He leaned over the priest again, but without the charcoal this time.
"Does the Memsahib give him the breast?" said a new Phillour recruit, the dye smell not yet out of his yellow cotton uniform. "Ho!" said an up-country Naik, scornfully. "It has not been known for more than ten days that my woman suckles him."
A third priest turned and ran. "That way!" said the High Priest, pointing. "I? Nay! I go not down!" He raised his voice into an ululating howl. "O Suliman!" he bellowed. "Suliman! O! Suliman! Bring up the heaven-born!" A growl like the distant rumble from a bear-pit answered him. Then Ruth Bellairs' voice was heard calling up the stairway. "Is that you, Mahommed Khan?" "Ay, memsahib!" "Good!
"We will all go down together now," Yasmini decided, and promptly she started to lead the way alone. But Hasamurti sprang to her side, and insisted with tears on disguising herself as her mistress and staying behind to provide one slim chance for the rest to escape. "In the dark you will pass for the memsahib," she urged. "The memsahib will pass for a man.
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