The Phantom Rickshaw | Page 8

Fancy the ghost of a hillman!"
Next morning I sent a penitent note to Kitty, imploring her to overlook
my strange conduct of the previous afternoon. My Divinity was still
very wroth, and a personal apology was necessary. I explained, with a
fluency born of night-long pondering over a falsehood, that I had been
attacked with sudden palpitation of the heart--the result of indigestion.
This eminently practical solution had its effect; and Kitty and I rode out
that afternoon with the shadow of my first lie dividing us.
Nothing would please her save a canter round Jakko. With my nerves
still unstrung from the previous night I feebly protested against the
notion, suggesting Observatory Hill, Jutogh, the Boileaugunge

road--anything rather than the Jakko round. Kitty was angry and a little
hurt: so I yielded from fear of provoking further misunderstanding, and
we set out together toward Chota Simla. We walked a greater part of
the way, and, according to our custom, cantered from a mile or so
below the Convent to the stretch of level road by the Sanjowlie
Reservoir. The wretched horses appeared to fly, and my heart beat
quicker and quicker as we neared the crest of the ascent. My mind had
been full of Mrs. Wessington all the afternoon; and every inch of the
Jakko road bore witness to our oldtime walks and talks. The bowlders
were full of it; the pines sang it aloud overhead; the rain-fed torrents
giggled and chuckled unseen over the shameful story; and the wind in
my ears chanted the iniquity aloud.
As a fitting climax, in the middle of the level men call the Ladies' Mile
the Horror was awaiting me. No other 'rickshaw was in sight--only the
four black and white jhampanies, the yellow-paneled carriage, and the
golden head of the woman within--all apparently just as I had left them
eight months and one fortnight ago! For an instant I fancied that Kitty
must see what I saw--we were so marvelously sympathetic in all things.
Her next words undeceived me--"Not a soul in sight! Come along, Jack,
and I'll race you to the Reservoir buildings!" Her wiry little Arab was
off like a bird, my Waler following close behind, and in this order we
dashed under the cliffs. Half a minute brought us within fifty yards of
the 'rickshaw. I pulled my Waler and fell back a little. The 'rickshaw
was directly in the middle of the road; and once more the Arab passed
through it, my horse following. "Jack! Jack dear! Please forgive me,"
rang with a wail in my ears, and, after an interval:--"It's a mistake, a
hideous mistake!"
I spurred my horse like a man possessed. When I turned my head at the
Reservoir works, the black and white liveries were still
waiting--patiently waiting--under the grey hillside, and the wind
brought me a mocking echo of the words I had just heard. Kitty
bantered me a good deal on my silence throughout the remainder of the
ride. I had been talking up till then wildly and at random. To save my
life I could not speak afterward naturally, and from Sanjowlie to the
Church wisely held my tongue.
I was to dine with the Mannerings that night, and had barely time to
canter home to dress. On the road to Elysium Hill I overheard two men

talking together in the dusk.--"It's a curious thing," said one, "how
completely all trace of it disappeared. You know my wife was insanely
fond of the woman ('never could see anything in her myself), and
wanted me to pick up her old 'rickshaw and coolies if they were to be
got for love or money. Morbid sort of fancy I call it; but I've got to do
what the Memsahib tells me. Would you believe that the man she hired
it from tells me that all four of the men--they were brothers--died of
cholera on the way to Hardwar, poor devils, and the 'rickshaw has been
broken up by the man himself. 'Told me he never used a dead
_Memsahib's_ 'rickshaw. 'Spoiled his luck. Queer notion, wasn't it?
Fancy poor little Mrs. Wessington spoiling any one's luck except her
own!" I laughed aloud at this point; and my laugh jarred on me as I
uttered it. So there were ghosts of 'rickshaws after all, and ghostly
employments in the other world! How much did Mrs. Wessington give
her men? What were their hours? Where did they go?
And for visible answer to my last question I saw the infernal Thing
blocking my path in the twilight. The dead travel fast, and by short cuts
unknown to ordinary coolies. I laughed aloud a second time and
checked my laughter suddenly, for I was afraid I was going mad. Mad
to a certain extent I