The Phantom Rickshaw | Page 6

were photographed on my memory. The
rain-swept sky (we were at the end of the wet weather), the sodden,
dingy pines, the muddy road, and the black powder-riven cliffs formed
a gloomy background against which the black and white liveries of the
jhampanies, the yellow-paneled 'rickshaw and Mrs. Wessington's
down-bowed golden head stood out clearly. She was holding her
handkerchief in her left hand and was leaning hack exhausted against
the 'rickshaw cushions. I turned my horse up a bypath near the
Sanjowlie Reservoir and literally ran away. Once I fancied I heard a
faint call of "Jack!" This may have been imagination. I never stopped to
verify it. Ten minutes later I came across Kitty on horseback; and, in
the delight of a long ride with her, forgot all about the interview.
A week later Mrs. Wessington died, and the inexpressible burden of her
existence was removed from my life. I went Plainsward perfectly happy.
Before three months were over I had forgotten all about her, except that
at times the discovery of some of her old letters reminded me
unpleasantly of our bygone relationship. By January I had disinterred
what was left of our correspondence from among my scattered
belongings and had burned it. At the beginning of April of this year,
1885, I was at Simla--semi-deserted Simla--once more, and was deep in
lover's talks and walks with Kitty. It was decided that we should be
married at the end of June. You will understand, therefore, that, loving
Kitty as I did, I am not saying too much when I pronounce myself to
have been, at that time, the happiest man in India.
Fourteen delightful days passed almost before I noticed their flight.
Then, aroused to the sense of what was proper among mortals
circumstanced as we were, I pointed out to Kitty that an engagement
ring was the outward and visible sign of her dignity as an engaged girl;
and that she must forthwith come to Hamilton's to be measured for one.
Up to that moment, I give you my word, we had completely forgotten
so trivial a matter. To Hamilton's we accordingly went on the 15th of
April, 1885. Remember that--whatever my doctor may say to the
contrary--I was then in perfect health, enjoying a well-balanced mind
and an absolute tranquil spirit. Kitty and I entered Hamilton's shop
together, and there, regardless of the order of affairs, I measured Kitty

for the ring in the presence of the amused assistant. The ring was a
sapphire with two diamonds. We then rode out down the slope that
leads to the Combermere Bridge and Peliti's shop.
While my Waler was cautiously feeling his way over the loose shale,
and Kitty was laughing and chattering at my side--while all Simla, that
is to say as much of it as had then come from the Plains, was grouped
round the Reading-room and Peliti's veranda,--I was aware that some
one, apparently at a vast distance, was calling me by my Christian
name. It struck me that I had heard the voice before, but when and
where I could not at once determine. In the short space it took to cover
the road between the path from Hamilton's shop and the first plank of
the Combermere Bridge I had thought over half a dozen people who
might have committed such a solecism, and had eventually decided that
it must have been singing in my ears. Immediately opposite Peliti's
shop my eye was arrested by the sight of four jhampanies in "magpie"
livery, pulling a yellow-paneled, cheap, bazar 'rickshaw. In a moment
my mind flew back to the previous season and Mrs. Wessington with a
sense of irritation and disgust. Was it not enough that the woman was
dead and done with, without her black and white servitors reappearing
to spoil the day's happiness? Whoever employed them now I thought I
would call upon, and ask as a personal favor to change her
_jhampanies'_ livery. I would hire the men myself, and, if necessary,
buy their coats from off their backs. It is impossible to say here what a
flood of undesirable memories their presence evoked.
"Kitty," I cried, "there are poor Mrs. Wessington's jhampanies turned
up again! I wonder who has them now?"
Kitty had known Mrs. Wessington slightly last season, and had always
been interested in the sickly woman.
"What? Where?" she asked. "I can't see them anywhere."
Even as she spoke her horse, swerving from a laden mule, threw
himself directly in front of the advancing 'rickshaw. I had scarcely time
to utter a word of warning when, to my unutterable horror, horse and
rider passed through men and carriage as if they had been thin air.
"What's the matter?" cried Kitty; "what made you call out so foolishly,
Jack? If