"Good-bye, captain."
"Good-bye. The next time you come with me I'll have the nga-pe all ready for you."
They were over the bridge, the guard of honour had presented arms, and the Reverend Doctor Habakkuk Smalley, American missionary, was introduced. Dr. Smalley performed the feat of shaking hands, of mopping his face with a red handkerchief, and of asking Jackson if he had "got it" all at once.
"Got it!" was the reply; "I should think we all did-got it nearly a mile up. It was most horrible!"
Dr. Smalley groaned aloud, and stretched forth both hands in protest. "Sir," he began, but Hawkshawe interposed.
"Excuse me for a moment, doctor, but I must introduce these people to the new king," and he led up the portly native treasury officer to the bewildered Jackson, who found himself compelled to make and to answer civil speeches, while he was wondering how he could have given offence. The presentations were rapidly brought to an end, and Hawkshawe urged a move toward breakfast, turning to include Dr. Smalley in the invitation; but the reverend gentleman was nowhere to be seen. He had stalked off in high dudgeon.
"I've done something to offend Dr. Smalley; let me go after him and explain, if I can, though what it can be I can't guess," said Jackson.
"I should think you have!" was the answer. "Fancy Smalley asking you his usual question about your certainty of your salvation, and only think of your reply!"
"But I meant that fearful-smelling compound!"
Hawkshawe's laugh pealed out loudly. "Well, if a man will speak of religion like the measles, he must expect to be misunderstood. But there is no use in saying anything now. I will square matters for you. Smalley is a very good fellow really, and you will get to like him and- But you must be very hungry. My men will take your traps over to your own place, and you have to breakfast with me, and can then go on, if you like. Here is the trap. Jump in."
After the cramped life of the river steamer, however, the traveller wished to stretch his limbs a little, and begged to be permitted to walk. To this Hawkshawe agreed with an inward curse, for walking exercise is hateful to the Anglo-Burmese. He will ride or drive anywhere, but the climate does not contemplate walking. It is not in the programme. An officious peon opened a huge umbrella over Jackson's head notwithstanding his protests, and a small procession was formed. This was increased to a very respectable size by the time they reached their destination, for most of the inhabitants of the place, having nothing better to do, attached themselves in a semiofficial manner to the party, and there was quite a crowd when, after a final leave-taking, Jackson and his host entered the house. It was a great pleasure to find that there were houses far back from the dreary little town on the river bank. It was disheartening to think that one had to live amid the malodorous mud and slime, and it was equally cheering to find instead of this a trim garden and a fantastically pretty little house, with a breakfast table set out in a shady veranda, which overlooked a lawn as green as emerald, upon which two little fox terriers were chasing each other in joyous play, to the detriment of the turf but to their own great good.
"You may consider yourself fairly installed now," said Hawkshawe, "and after breakfast we will take a run down to the courts. Drage, your predecessor, left only three days ago, but his house, which you have taken, will suit you admirably. You will find yourself very comfortable there, for Drage did himself well."
After breakfast Hawkshawe's fast-trotting pony took them the one mile to the courthouse "in less than no time," as the policeman said, and, the trifling business of the first day concluded, they drove to the house Jackson was to occupy. He had taken it over as it stood from his predecessor, who had gone home on long furlough, and he was much pleased to find it comfortable beyond his expectations. All his heavy baggage had come on before, and Ah-Geelong, the Chinese servant, whom he had engaged as head man, was evidently a treasure. His books were neatly stacked in their shelves, and not with the titles upside down, for Ah-Geelong was skilled in the English tongue after his kind. Everything was spotlessly clean, from the half-dozen servants, who greeted him respectfully as he arrived, to the shining floor of the rooms, on the dark wood of which a mirrorlike polish had been scrubbed. After a few minutes Hawkshawe drove off, having made Jackson promise to dine with him that evening, and Peregrine was left to himself. He spent about an hour in arranging photographs and a few paintings, and then made a tour of the house and grounds. His ponies-two strong cobby little Shans-had come, and were looking sleek and comfortable in their stalls. He came back and made for the room which Ah-Geelong had arranged as his master's study. The Chinaman had selected this with a natural taste that could not be surpassed. The wide windows of the room opened into a veranda, from which there was an outlook over the river. There was a perfect north light, and the soft sea breeze that had travelled so many miles came in cool puffs past the quis-qualis blossoms that twined and thrust themselves through the trellis work of the veranda. He wheeled out a small table and sat down to write home, for the steamer left early the next morning and the mails went with her. The letter was to his father, and, after describing the events of his journey, he went on to explain the feelings which moved him on his entry into the task of governing his fellow-creatures. He was aware that he ought to have first learned to govern himself; but practical work mostly leaves out that little detail upon which the moralist insists. Beyond a certain amount of book knowledge, he knew little or nothing of the people upon whom he was pitchforked by a gazette notification. He had been told that the Burman was incapable of progress, a sluggard, and a fop, and that the Chinaman was the future of Burma. His work was to collect the revenue, to preserve order, and to administer the law. But Jackson was not satisfied with accepting as an axiom the definition of the Burman given to him, nor did he feel that to carry out the mere routine of his work was sufficient. He had read much of the civilization of the East; but, after all, what is the civilization of the East to that of the West! Jackson was bringing all the active, vigorous West with him to this sleepy hollow in the creeks, and his coming would be as a breath of strong air to an invalid. He mapped out his programme. He would be to the benighted creatures-for of course they were benighted-over whom he was placed what his father had been and was to him, and so on for many pages of what a high-souled boy always dreams when he enters upon the battle of the East. With few exceptions, he comes out of the struggle dispirited and broken, feeling that the strong years of his life have been wasted in trying to affix the impression of a seal upon water. He folded his letter, and, ringing the little bell which stood near him, gave it to the servant who came to carry to the post. He then rose and, leaning over the railings of the veranda, looked out before him. It was almost sunset, and a veil of shimmering gold was over the land. The yellow light fell softly on the sleepy forest and trembled over the dreaming river. Out on the west stretched a long, thin line of purple clouds, and his heart went forth there, for beyond was home-home, which he should see again when his task was done-when he had struck the dead Budh once more into life-when the East had heard the message he bore it from the West.
CHAPTER II
A DINNER À DEUX
Ho! A flowing bowl and a merry lass,
And a fig for monk or friar!
And the clean white light
Of a sword in fight,
And gold to my heart's desire.
Eight o'clock! There was just time to dress and reach Hawkshawe's house, unless Jackson wanted to be late for dinner. He was unromantic enough to have an extremely good appetite, and a man must dine even if he is going to make the old East new. He got through his dressing as quickly as possible, and found his pony waiting for him under the portico that protected the front door of the house. Ah-Geelong followed close at his heels with an enormous hand lantern, which threw a blaze of light many yards around them. Peregrine protested.
"There is a bright moon, Ah-Geelong; you surely do not want a lamp! You might as well bring an umbrella!"
"Plentee snakee, master," and the Chinaman pointed generally all around him with a long knotted bamboo staff. The argument was unanswerable. Out of deference, therefore, to the cobra the lantern was permitted to assist