LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXI, Issue 1756, 6 October 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

A STORY OF AN INDIAN RACEMEET. I. THE COURSE. It was late in the afternoon of a Janus ry day; the sun was sinking lower and lower over Cuchuahigau, but, aB if unwilling to depart without a fina.l burst of splendour, lit the waters of the lake, which lies on the outskirts of that small civil station, with dazzling brilliancy. Defying the pencil of painter, the pen of poet, to depict them, the rich colors mingle and glow; above, they melt through every rainbow hue, from the faintest shades of opal, blue, and green, to the deepest crimson and violot; below, in the sheeny ripple, they fade from the crimson to the blue again ; islands of gold and purple float in the sea of light, and across it a dark low-lying belt of land stretches, immovable and unchanging. To tho left the land widens out towards us; and among the rich Indian foliage we can see large palace-like buildings or low white bungalows surrounded by bright-flower gardens which reach here and there to the water's edge. Behind us lies Cuchuahigan ; and stretching from the shores of the lake on our right is a large expanse of unshady turfy ground, bounded, on the farther side from the waters, by trees and jungles, and merging in the distance in the dark belt of land that divides the sky aad waters before us. This turfy stretch is ' the Course,' and its monotony is at present unbroken, save perhaps bv the dusky half-clad figures of a few ' dhobies,' or washermen, who, with their miserable ghastly-looking donkeys, wend their way wearily home from the water. All is still and at rest here, bathed in a sleepy glow of warmth and light. The lipping waters murmur softly among the. reeds near the shore ; the branches of a few trees near, bent by the lighest of breezes, stoop softly to kiss their graceful shadows in the waters ; no harsh sound reaches us, and ev<n the hum of the bazaar has a soothing influence. The far-away murmur is suggestive, however, of the bustle and stir going on in the streets behind us, and our fancy can picture them not unpleasantly, safe from this racket and din.

There we can fancy .the dark-skinned sparsely-clad men and women, who move in crowds to and fro, bargaining and chattering with those they meet, or with those who sit cross-legged in open booths behind their outspread wares. We can picture the young women, carrying on their heads baskets or earthern vessels filled with water or native food, their bright black eyes glancing swiftly to right or left beneath the wellbalanced burden as they move erect and firm along ; or old filthy-looking hags, with wizened faces and indifferent gaze, who Bit, with their knees huddled up to their ohins, smoking their hookahs with calm stolidity ; and here and there perhaps more richly-clad natives, who strut with pompous pharisaioal air among the throng. Creaking native carts, diawn by dull heavy-eyed bullocks, are jostled|unceremoniously about ; jangling springlesß vehicles hurry recklessly along ; but, above all and through all, little naked, miserable children squeal and creep and squat about, regardless alike of the feet of man or beast.

From our quite retreat we can see the water carriers, characteristic of the hour, come to the bend of the lake, where the river that flows through it issues forth again ; fill their unwieldly-looking bags, and trot away to sprinkle their refreshing burden on the hot dusty roads; and louder and louder, as the sun sinks lower, drowning the hum of voices, there comes from the bazaars the sound of jangling bells and creaking wheels, for the offices are closing for the day, and the natives in their noisy vehicles are streaming homewards. Gradually the sharper Bound of horses' hoofs, and even the rumbling of well-oiled wheels, like the tones of some low clear music, can be distinguished among the confusion of harsher notes ; and carriages, breaking on the stillness, curve round the bend of the river, and sweep along by the shores of the lake.

In one of the first of these carriages sit two elderly ladies and a young girl. • Dear me!' ejaculates tho elder and stouter of the two, who reoline luxurioulsy in the back seat of the carriage, ' I told you, Emily, that the clocks could not be right ; see how high the sun still is.'

* Ah, well, what does It matter ?' answers the other listlessly; ' and there are some others, and our own p&rty here, at any rate.'

• Yea, there are a few,' rejoins the first speaker. ' The coarse will be lively to-night, I daresay ; they say there are a great many in for this meet.'

The carriages swept on by the shore of the lake ; then, turning across the turf, returned by another way to the entrance of the course again. As that in which the three ladles sat passed by on a second tour, a party of riders issued from the road and came swiftly towards it. ' I hear riders coming, surely; who are they, Cissy ?' queried Mrs Campbell, mother of the young girl who Bat facing her, and sister of the third oocupant;of the carriage, Mrs Ricart.

Cissy Campbell leant lightly forward, and, glancing at the new comers, answered softly, ' Some of Mrs. Stevenson's party, I think, mamma; they have mustered a. good number.'

Almost as the girl spoke, the riders came alongside. Mrs Campbell bowed haughtily. Cissy smiled, and nodded freely; but, as her eye passed lightly over the party, she started slightly, and bowed again, whilst a crimson flush rose over neck and face, and her eyes lit up unconsciously. Mrs Campbell, a languid-looking showilydressed woman, surveyed her daughter with surprise, and, looking at the riders again, remarked somewhat pointedly, ' Captain Lambert was not there, Cissy, was he P' c No,' answered the girl,' and she put her hand to her face to hide her confusion.

* No, no,' said the other occupant of the carriage, a sneer seeming to lurk .in her tones, though she smiled sweetly enough ' But I think I see an old flame of Miss Cissy's there' 'Who, then?' asked Mrs Campbell.

'A Mr Burton,' continued- Mrs Blcart smoothly, ' who came out in the same steamer with us. One of those penniless, nothing-to-live-on young people, you know, who really ought to be kept in a separate part of the Bhip, I think, and not allowed to mix among pretty, but foolish, young ladies.' ' Pity but the owners of the steamers had a hint, and kept a cage apart for them ; it would, I am sure, cause quite a run on the ship of elderly ohaperones and their charges,' remarked Cissy, with curling lip. Mrs Bicart smiled again ; but though the eyes nearly disappeared in the little puffy cheeks, they did not twinkle merrily. ' And Mr Burton, where Is he now ? Inj the district ?'asked Mrs Campbell, after a pause.

' No, lives in Calcutta, I believe, where he gets some few hundred rupees a month,' Mrs Ricart replied spitefully. ' Can't live on a pittance like that there ; will take fever and die, or go home soon, I should fancy. I hope he is not coming to the district to recruit, however—at least not to Cissy's neighbourhood.'

* I do not see what cissy has to do with it,' replied the other sister pettishly. ' Ah, she might strike np the old flirtation, you .know, and that Bpolls a girl's chances so, I always think,' Mrs Bicart answered, with seeming carelessness.

« Flirtation t I trust Cissy Is incapable of such a thing,' said her mother severely.

' I should certainly be ashamed of myself, | were I guilt of it,' put in Cissy boldly. ' Yes, it is a most unladylike proceeding, and were I to imagine your encouragement of Captain Lambert meant nothing more, I should indeed be angry,' spoke Mrs Camp bell, as she glanced scarce loviagly at the girl. Cissy's face flushed with vexation ; she bit her lip, but did not answer, and the subject was dropped. Meanwhile, vehicles of all descriptions followed one another round the bend of the river, and parties of riders came streaming aorcss the ground, making the soene in a single hour as lively as It had been before I desolate and deserted. Gradually then the I gay throng drew to ona spot near the side

of the lake where a native band began to play, and where they congregated to gossip and «d j>y the music. The turfy stietch was again deserted, save where a rider careered alone across the turf perhaps, or a carriage, probably filled with natives, would sweep round the drive a while, and slip unnoticed away ; only in- this one spot was there life and laughter. Near the carriage in which Cissy Campbell sat, a knot of gentlmen stood conversing.

' That Campbell girl is the prettiest of the new importations this ye»r: don't you think so, Bryant ?' asked one, Mr Stevenson.

'I like that dreamy face of hers, answered the man addressed. ' The most of the girls about here have so much nonsense and affection about them. Miss Campbell's looks a genuine, steady, English face, and I always admire expression more than mare features.' 'There is an affectation that savoura of high fllown nonsense too, you know,' said Mr Steveuson, with a careless laugh. ' I confess I never can get much out of Miss '' issy ; but my wife thinks of her as only a little below the angels. Burton, you came out with her, what did you thirk of her, eh?'

Graham Burton had been regarding Cissy as his companions spoke. She was sitting with her face turned towaids the Eky, where the setting snn had left faint streaks of opal snd amber, and a quiet sweet look rested on her face : the face was pale, the features delicate ; but the lips were pale and firm, the eyes deep and gentle. His face tof tened as he looked at her, and after a moment's hesitation answered, ' I think she is what she looks, gentle and true, but shy and reserved ; that old dragon, Mrs Ricart, was so vigilant, however, one could not get to know her well.'

'Ah, the aunt is a perfect Gorgon,' interrupted Mr Stevenson, ' She brings ont her lambs every second year to the slaughter; that is nu nber three getting into the carriage ; she looks more snake-like than ever in that clinging habit, and is- a sneak like the rest, no doubt.'

'Looks it,' said another of the group. 'You bet mother^,Ricart;sets]her at Lambert.'

'Never a bit,'replied Stevenson. 'Miss Cisiy is to get the Chevalier Lambert. Mra Ricart daren't interfere ; Mrs Campbell is too much of a rich sister for that.'

'Well, perhaps not by fair means, * said the other, shrugging his shoulders carelessly ; ' but I would not mind taking two to one that if Alice Ricart can catch Lambert, she will. The sides are not equal you see : it's mother and daughter against the other mother. Miss Campbell is evidently neutral, though maybe it is most telling ; soft too of a girl, if she is indifferent, to let herself be disposed of so passively.' And the speaker moved off to another group, while Graham Burton looked rather savagely after him.

' Lambert is to stay the race week with them,'added Stevenson, 'it will bs rather fun watching the game.' ' Will it ?' said Grrahim to himself, as he sauntered off towards the lake, and gnawed his moustache with true English vigor. In truth, matters had gone further than Mrs Ricart knew, or than one would have conjsctured from the composed way in which Graham Burton had answered his friend. As he stood by the lake, his thoughts reverted to a moonlit night on board when he had stood by Cissy, had seen the trembling of her lip, heard the tremor of her voice, as they spoke of the morrow's parting; and almost persuaded himself, as he spoke of the determination and confidence he had that he would make his way quickly and see her again, that she would be true to their unwhispered love. For Graham Barton then was proud and poor, and would not let his feelings overcome his reason ; and Graham Burton now, though proud still, had become suddenly and unexpectedly rich. To win the fruit he had before withheld himself from plucking, though it trembled within his grasp, was still his resolve; but to win it for himself alone. In the uncertainty of the present he half repented that he had let the favorable moment pass, half repented of the resolution which must place many difficulties in his way; but, smiling quietly to himself again, he muttered firmly to himself, ' No, no ; if money is to do it, I had rather his bought her than mine.' Nevertheless, his heart beat as ho neared the carriage where Ciasy Campbell sat; and as he pressed her hand, and stood by her in the fading light, something very like love gleamed in the eye 3 of both, and Graham was very happy as he watched the girl's sweet face dash and pale beneath his glance. She introduced him to her mother, whose bow was the chilliest of the chill, and Mrs Ricart's manner was no less freezing; yet he kept his stand in spite of the cold looks directed at him. and the officiously warm welcome accorded to Captain Lambert and others who came near.

The scene in which they formed a part was gay and busy. Among the carriages and vehicles gathered together, the horses prancing about, or standing meekly still, gay figures bent over to chat and flirt and gossip, or, like butterflies from flower to flower, flitted lightly from one group to another; while men went wandering up and down, now laughing here, now whispering there. The dark figures of syces in fancy liveries by the horses' heads, or ayahs in their picturesque garb carrying children about, lent strangeness to the scene; and above the merry laughter and hum of voices music swelled out ever and anou. Soon darkness crept over the scene, lamps began to twinkle, and now and again a carriage with its 'pair of glowing eyes would issue softly from the crowd, and w£nd its way smoothly over the turfy ground to the bend of the river; yet Graham Burton kept his stand. * You will be at the ball this evening?' he asks, in a low tone. 'Of conrse, Mr Burton. I wonder if it will be a nice one.'

•To me, yes, if you are there. Are you engaged for the first waltz ?' •Yes; lam so sorry.' ' The second V ' Yes.' ' Gone too ; then which may I have ? ' Shall we say the fourth ? It is my first vacant dance.' 'An unlucky number } but never mind ; yon won't forget ? • I shall be sure to remember,' answered Cissy softly; and a few minuts later her companion had prof sed her hand again, and sauntered off whistling gaily. Captain Lambert took the vacant placo at Cissy's elbow. The son of a wealthy proprietor In the district, with a good income at his own disposal, he had taken a trip out to India, to see the country, and give a look to his father's interests in passing. An insipid well-featured face, tall figure, and simpering manner were his chief characteristics; but one of the most eligible partis of the neighborhood, he had been made much of, and believed unhesitatingly in the superior merits which so many graciously attributed to him. 'Graham Burton watched him for a moment. (To be continued.)