Romance by Proxy. A story of the Soudan War

Front matter

ROMANCE BY PROXY a ROMANCE BY PROXY a Storp of tbe Souoan Mar BY EVANS COMYN Zontfon EDEN, REMINGTON & CO., PUBLISHERS 15 KING STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C. BeMcatefc BY PERMISSION TO THE MARQUIS AND MARCHIONESS OF DUFFERIN AND ALVA CONTENTS. CHAPTEE I. PAGE THE FLIGHT OF THE SWALLOWS, .... 1 CHAPTEE II. EGYPTOLOGIST MANIA, . . . . .14 CHAPTEE III. MERRY WIVES OF CAIRO, . . . . .33 CHAPTEE IV. THE SHOW HIGHLANDER, . . . . .50 CHAPTEE V. TABLEAUX CHANGEANS, . . . . .65 CHAPTEE VI. HER PRETTY ROUND OF TRESPASSES, . . .87 CHAPTEE VII. UNDER A PARASOL, ...... 105 CHAPTEE VIII. CAPUT MORTUUM, ...... 121 CHAPTEE IX. WHITE SLAVERY, ...... 137 CHAPTEE X. A FLIRTATION WITH A HOURI, . . . .153 CHAPTEE XI MRS GRUNDY'S FAVOURITES, . . . .168 CONTENTS. CHAPTEE XII. ,AaE LOVE MASKED, . . • • .179 CHAPTEE XIII.

MEMPHIS, ...--•• 1^1 CHAPTEE XIV. THE BLACK WATCH AT HOME, .... 206 CHAPTEE XV. ROAMING IN THOUGHT, ..... 218 CHAPTEE XVI. ANTINOOS, ....... 230 CHAPTEE XVII. A LAST SIGHT OF GORDON, ..... 239 CHAPTEE XVIIL A LATE DEBUTANTE, ...... 253 CHAPTEE XIX. IN THE GRAVE OF A GOD, ..... 268 CHAPTEE XX. IN KARNAC BY MOONLIGHT, ..... 279 CHAPTEE XXI. A FLIRT'S GOOD-BYE, . . . . ... 293 CHAPTEE XXII. ABOOL HOL — THE FATHER OF TERRORS, . . .311 CHAPTEE XXIII. DIVIDED, ....... 322 CHAPTEE XXIV THERE ARE NO RETURNING FOOTSTEPS, . . . 343 CHAPTEE XXV. THK IRON SLEEP, ...... 3g0 l'envoi, . . . . . . .372

Chapter I. The Flight Of The Swallows

On a gloomy afternoon in the end of October, a girl was standing by a wooden gate leading into some large green fields. A depressing day it had been throughout, cloudy and chilly, the weather when people seek the tea-table at an early hour in search of cheeriness and tbe sympathy of a general grumble. The autumn breezes, moaning drearily through the trees, blew down a shower of dead leaves upon the girl at the gate, who was watching with much interest the movements of a large flock of swallows in the grass lands, where they had been alighting in vast numbers for some time past. Tbe leaves might have resented their summary dismissal by Alice Knox, for they could hardly have fallen on any one more beautiful, with her tall, queenly figure, delicatelycut features, and large grey eyes. A study in grey sbe might have been called at that moment, for her gown and hat matched her eyes in colouring.

Presently she looked eagerly forward as a vast number of birds rose from the fields, "wheeling out on a cloudy sky," making the very air vibrate with the rush of multitudinous wings. For a short time they hung, as it were, between earth and sky, silent but watchful, like a huge cloud, almost shutting A out the light from the country beneath, then, at some noiseless, though promptly-obeyed, signal from their leaders, they were all in motion, flying swiftly away. " Can it be the flight of the swallows I have just seen?" said Alice Knox to herself, as she watched them out of sight. " How interested father will be to hear of it. Come, dear dogs," she cried to a couple of fox-terriers, who bad not approved of the delay at the gate, " we must go home at once with our news," and she turned in the direction of a fine old mansion close by.

Entering the bouse, she passed quickly into a cosy morning-room, where, by the fire, sat an elderly man, and a bright-looking girl, talking to him with much animation. "Alice ! " cried the girl, as the former came into the room, " how late you are ! I did a heap of packing for you, and have since been trying to entertain your father. I expect you have been day-dreaming, as usual," she continued. "Not this time, Claire, for a wonder," answered Alice, laughing, "though I know I am often guilty. Father," she continued, turning to the old man, " what do you think I have seen ? " " Out with it, Alice," answered Mr Knox. " Miss Moore does not allow me to be worried." " Miss Moore is spoiling you," said Alice ; " very reprehensible in a professional nurse. I shall tell her so some day. Down, dogs !

" she cried to her com panions, who had rushed in after their mistress, and were trying to attract her attention by erratic jumps in the air. " You also want me to make haste with my news, that we may go out again. Well , father, I have just seen what you so often talked about — the flight of the swallows." " You have, Alice ? " cried Mr Knox, much interested. " What a lucky girl ! It is strange," he went on. " though it occurs every year, that so few people see it ; but you are probably mistaken, Alice. You are in clined to be sadly inaccurate upon scientific subjects." " I am quite convinced I saw it, father," answered the girl. " I happened to be looking over the sheep walk, where I noticed an immense number of swallows collecting. I could not make it out, and stayed nearly an hour watching them.

At last they rose up in thou sands — millions, I suppose — making the sky almost dark, and flew away, their minds satisfied, apparently, as to destination. Off they went, smart and tidy, perfectly dressed. I expect they were brushing up their beautiful clothes all that long time they kept me waiting." "Do be serious, Alice," cried Mr Knox fretfully, "and accurate." " Oh, these scientific minds ! " exclaimed Alice ; " why, father, you could not expect me to count the area of square feet they covered ; but, as I said, they moved with tbe greatest regularity. Cook might be thankful for such an orderly set of tourists." " They have not got much start of you, Mr Knox," remarked Claire Fitzgerald." " No, indeed," answered Alice. " Can you realise," she continued, addressing her father, " that you are starting for Egypt to-morrow ?

" "I realise it so much," answered Mr Knox, "and dread the move to such a degree, that I would cry off even now, if possible. You, at all events, seem very glad." " I am charmed, father," she exclaimed, " hence my exuberant spirits, which have quite taken Claire by surprise, such liveliness being unusual. I never imagined anything so delightful coming in my way, though it has been my dream of dreams to see Egypt. The old books in the library are responsible for this direction of my mind ; when I read of those magnificent ruined temples, with their sculptured gods, and kings, of the tombs, and the wonderful mvsterious river, I cannot tell you how I long to see it all." " Hear ber enthusiasm," said Mr Knox, nodding to Claire Fitzgerald, as though they had lately been discussing Alice's character under this head, and her present words verified some conclusion at which they had arrived.

" Why, Alice, you are coming out in a new light ; you have taken me by surprise lately." " Not at all, father," she answered, " there is no change in me. The case is simply this : since you have been obliged to put away your beetles, you put me under the microscope instead ; you must analyse some thing." "It really will be a charming change for you, Alice, this winter at Cairo," said Claire; "in the words of Mark Twain, one final, triumphant, and all satisfying spree." " I scarcely seem to take in the full meaning of the word spree," answered Alice, laughing ; " it could scarcely refer to our surroundings here. Temples and tombs do not connect themselves with that ex pression in your mind, Claire, I suppose ? " " Oh, but there will be balls, and gaieties of all kinds, so my cousin tells me," said Claire ; " people dance and flirt, and amuse themselves now at Cairo, since the army of occupation has taken possession of it, and do not trouble their heads about temples and tombs."

" Nonsense, Claire," answered Alice ; " I know you say this to tease me ; at all events, society will let me go my own way, and that will be to the temples." " Miss Fitzgerald has been telling me," interrupted Mr Knox, looking at his daughter with that peering expression peculiar to scientific men who have used the microscope much, " that you are a beauty, and that you will be surrounded by admiring officers. I know nothing of them, but I understand tbey are dangerous companions for young women." " What do you mean, father ? " exclaimed Alice. " I shall never trust you alone with him again, Claire, if you put such ideas into his head." " It is quite true what you said just now, Alice," Mr Knox went on, following his own train of thought, " that I have had more opportunity lately of studying your character, which, I perceive with alarm, to be romantic and emotional.

Your mother was so con stituted, I believe, though it did not affect me in any way, we led our own lives ; with you it is a different matter, I have a duty to perform in your case. Emo tion and feeling have to say to what is termed love, of which I know nothing, your being a beauty will cause you to be selected. I may be called upon to ad vise you ; in what a position do I then find myself ? I sincerely wish," he went on with a sigh, " that you were plain and scientific like your late aunt, then there would be no difficulties such as Miss Fitzgerald's sug gestions lead me to suppose we may meet with during our winter abroad." " Oh, pray, Mr Knox," cried Claire, " do not take me up so seriously. I forgot I had to be guarded in my assertions when with scientific people, and we are so vague at home ; but surely," she continued, " you are pleased to hear that Alice is pretty, and will be ad mired.

Our old friend Mrs Lennox can look after her well, and not allow her to be run away with, and as to my cousin Jim, he is steady enough to chaperon a convent." " And Alice is a beauty," continued Mr Knox, still peering curiously at his daughter. " Father ! father ! " cried Alice, putting up her hands to hide her face, " do not stare at me in that way. I feel a specimen already." " I remember," Mr Knox persisted, not noticing the interruption," that when you were born they asked me to look at you, I told them I would attend to the mat ter later, when you developed perhaps some variety of species ; according to Miss Fitzgerald, that time has now arrived. You belong to the class beauty, and you are consequently a distinct variety, and interesting as such. This is a great responsibility," he mused ; " my daughter a rare specimen."

"Father you will begin to worry about me now," said Alice, " and you know the doctors have forbidden worry of any kind ; they say that it will hurt you even more than work." "The doctors are a pack of fools," exclaimed Mr Knox. " I should be much better working at my books and specimens than sitting here thinking. Child ! child ! " he cried, " is my work at an end for ever? Are those years of patient, unwearied investigation into the mysteries of nature all over; is this mind thirsting for knowledge to be blotted out from the page of life; and yet," he went on sadly, "they can give me no reasonable hope of a Beyond." Alice did not answer, this yearning for a hope of a future life which had lately taken possession of her father, she sympathised with deeply, though silently ; in her own nature, hidden below human feeling, and as yet undeveloped, there was a desire for religious belief.

Presently she rose softly, not to disturb her father's thoughts, and saying to Claire, — " Since I cannot carry my wardrobe in the same convenient manner as the swallows, let us return to our packing," left the room. Mr Knox did not notice the girls were going ; he sat brooding gloomily upon death, and the extinction of mind which he believed was inevitable. He re belled against leaving life when he was, be felt convinced, about to make more than one important scientific discovery, and he could see no hope for a continuance of the intellectual life under different conditions. The thought filled him with despair. This evening he had, however, another subject to dwell upon, and presently he thought of Alice in the new light his recent conversation with Claire Fitz gerald made him regard her, and, like one who has spent years away from his native land, and returns to old customs and faces, now strangely unfamiliar and half feared, so Mr Knox recalled the little he had known in his youth of the world's ways, wondering with dread how they would affect this daughter, suddenly become an object of interest and anxiety.

" A beautiful human plant," he murmured, in the quaint, metaphorical language he generally used, " has been growing up by my side, and I know nothing of its requirements, or of the dangers to its well-being in this new atmosphere." He imagined himself separated by some stranger from this daughter, for whom the fatherly affection, so long smothered in an all-absorbing pursuit, was now awakening. A younger son, from bis youth an enthusiast for scientific research, particularly in ento mology, Mr Knox had spent the early part of his life studying in foreign universities ; later, upon his brother's death, he had settled down in the paternal home, which became his property, marrying the daughter of a neighbouring squire with short, un conventional wooing, since it was not as a companion he took a wife, but to look after bis house and com forts.

Mrs Knox was a woman whom some romantic love affair had kept single until middle age. She accepted a home with Mr Knox, where she could live calmly and independently, without any claim upon an affection which she had not to give. She died when her only child, Alice, was three years old, her place in the household being filled then by Mr Knox's sister, lately left a widow. The girls had finished with their preparations for the next day's departure, and were on their way to Claire's room to have a snug chat, as the latter called it. "Now, sit down there, Alice, by the fire," said Claire, " and do not dream, but listen attentively to my parting admonitions. You know I have taken you in charge, like the rest of my family. I really cannot help laughing even yet," she con tinued, "when I think of your father's astonishment at my idea of your being a beauty, and having admirers.' "Nonsense, Claire," answered Alice.

"As I said before, it is your being engaged which puts all this sort of thing into your head. I am, at least for this evening, passive, so begin again about the wonderful cousin "of whom you are, I know, dying to talk. I remember looking up to him in the old days as a very superior being." " And you will remain in that good old faith when you meet him," answered Claire. " Putting aside my prejudices in his favour, nobody ever was half so charming as Jim." "I suppose I shall not in the least recognise him. Is he like you, Claire ? " asked Alice. " Like me ? " cried Claire indignantly. " Why, my dear, he is one of the handsomest men you could pos sibly see ; where are your eyes, look at him ! " she ex claimed, glancing proudly towards a large photograph of James Fitzgerald, in Highland uniform, on the mantelpiece.

Alice stood for a few minutes silently gazing at the photograph. "I can only remember," she said presently, "a tall young man, with very big dark eyes, which used to flash when he talked much. Let me think," she con tinued ; " how old were we then ? " "I was ten," answered Claire, "you twelve, Jim eighteen; it is twelve years since we were together that summer at Rostrevor ; and what friends you and Jim were then, and are, I know, going to be now. He will be interested in your character, your day dreaming, up-in-the-cloud life, your enthusiasm, de lightfully romantic you, in fact. I fancy all men," she went on, looking very wise, as though her en gagement bad given her experience in judging men's characters, "like some romance in their lives, so I have written to Jim that you will play at it with him ; he has never had any in bis engagement, I am so prosaic."

" So I am to act proxy in a romantic play ? " said Alice, laughing ; " what an idea, Claire." "When you meet Jim, you will think from his appear ance he is cut out to be the hero in twenty romances, while in reality he is nothing of the sort ; be is a proud, tempestuous, passionate, sporting, careless, humorous Celt," continued Claire laughing. " My breath and ad jectives fail me for the moment ; with all the Celt's earth hunger for his land New Grange, I wonder can I sketch his character dispassionately. He is hot-tempered, will curse the house down, as the servants say, for five minutes, when he does not care to control himself, then laugh ; if very strongly roused, he will leave the room, and return presently, offering his band, with that charming smile of his, and he has to be forgiven at once.

He is daring, __ _. in so far that he does not understand the feeling of fear. He used to be a bold, bad flirt, and would have made love to his grandmother in his humbugging, laughing way, if no one else could have been found ; with all his attractive nonsense and blarney, he is perfectly true, one can so absolutely trust him. Well, let me see, he is a fanatic about his profession. Tommy Atkins is his idol, and he dreams of fortifications and ramparts, and spends hours poring over maps, and measuring distances on them, with horrid little pincers, for fear of over-walking or tiring precious Tommy in route marches ; what the latter eats, drinks, and wears is a matter of the deepest importance, and he looks forward to one day commanding the 79th, and hearing the Duke of Cambridge pronounce them the smartest regiment he has inspected, as the crowning ambition of bis life.

In the way of books, Clery's " Military Tactics " is his constant companion, and, by way of relaxation, he reads heaps of novels under tbe trees in the summer, when he is not teasing me ; and this is Jim Fitzgerald." Alice had been gazing at tbe photograph while Claire talked. " Are you what is called in love with him ? " she asked presently. "It must be a curious feeling to have always some one in particular to think about and be greatly interested in." " Well, you know," answered Claire, " I was brought up to worship Jim, in a sort of way, by auntie. I have always been very fond of him, but never thought of him, even when we grew up, in the light of a lover, until a great sorrow drew us together. I pitied him so," she continued, " then he began to care for me, and love came instead of worship, and now," she added, lowering her voice, " I cannot imagine what life would be without him."

" A great sorrow ? " repeated Alice, with interest. " Yes," answered Claire ; " rather, perhaps, a family trouble ; we all suffered, but Jim feels very deeply, and he has never been the same since. He used to have such wonderful spirits, now he is often sad ; this is why I like him to have friends who will take him out of himself, and make him forget. I think he often broods secretly." Claire paused, struck by tbe in terest which Alice's face betrayed. " Alice," she exclaimed, " I think perhaps I ought not to have told you all this, for we never speak of it, even among ourselves, but I wanted you to know Jim well, that you might understand him, and become friends at once, then you will write and tell me every thing about him. He says so little of himself in his letters ; they are bright and amusing, but I cannot make out from them how he is feeling, and I must not trust Roger, men do not know each other's minds.

Now, Alice," she went on earnestly, " promise me faithfully that you will never, never mention what I have told you, and forget it at once." " Yes, dear Claire, your confidence is quite safe with me," answered Alice. " We have not had any sorrows or joys, for the matter of that," she added musingly. Then, standing up, she leant towards tbe photograph, gazing at tbe face of the handsome young Highlander, in whose dark eyes she seemed to see the expression of this secret sorrow, as they looked into hers, asking silently for sympathy. " I always forget Major Fitzgerald's regiment," she said presently to Claire, who sat down by a writing-table, and commenced folding a letter. " 79th, the Camerons, now quartered in the Citadel at Cairo. I am just addressing this letter, which I mean you to take charge of for Jim ; please repeat it all, Alice, and remember that they have red in their plaid.

You must be quite interested in these particular Highlanders, for you know my other cousin, Roger Stanley, is in the same regiment ; you may remember the fat boy who was always teasing in the old days. You will like him too. He is noisy, and harum-scarum, and explosive as to temper, but he has lots of good qualities." When Claire left Alice that night, the latter sat late over her fire, thinking how one of her greatest wishes was soon to be satisfied, and she would see Egypt. Yet, from the temples and palm groves, which ber mind loved to conjure up, there now looked forth a face with great, dark, flashing eyes, shadowed by tbe melancholy of a secret sorrow, and as she dreamed on, her heart seemed to go out in pity to James Fitzgerald. Mr Knox and Alice had a very good passage, and, on the morning of the twelfth day after leaving Gravesend, their ship steamed out of the canal, and anchored off Suez.

Immediately a steam launch, flying the Peninsular and Oriental colours, was seen to put off from the docks. " Here comes our fate, father," said Alice. " The captain told me that the visitors would arrive in the steam launch, with the quarantine officer." "I suppose you will recognise Major Fitzgerald from Miss Claire's description ? " said Mr Knox. "How beautiful those lights are on the Attaka mountains," Alice continued presently, trying to believe herself less interested in the approaching boat. " I read up all this part of the country in Murray last night ; over there is Mount Sinai, you can just see the top." In another minute or two she moved towards the side of the ship. " Here is the launch, father," she said ; then, returning to him, she continued, " It contains a little fair man, a big dark man, with a lovely yellow handkerchief round his turban, and an officer, but I only can see his helmet and moustache."

" That is a good-looking fellow, and no mistake," exclaimed Mr Knox, struck with James Fitzgerald's appearance, as the latter stepped on board the ship, and going up to one of the officers, asked him some question, then, as he came towards where Mr Knox and Alice were standing, she saw the eyes fixed upon her which had haunted her dreams the last night she spent in England. " Now, Alice," said Mr Knox, when they were seated later on in the steam launch, bound for shore, " do not lose any time in asking Major Fitzgerald where the Egyptian beetle is likely to be found. I want a speci men as soon as possible for the collection. I am too tired to talk with him about it now. Ateuchus sacer, the Scarabœus — pray do not forget the name. Take this pencil and write it down on your cuff." Alice was about to reply that Major Fitzgerald probably knew nothing about the insect, but she re frained, fearing her father might express his disgust at such lamentable ignorance in the Highlander loudly enough to be overheard.

" We shall have the afternoon here, I believe," con tinued Mr Knox. " I really cannot see why you and Major Fitzgerald should not go off immediately after luncheon and find it. To be sure, he is remarkably handsome," he went on, in a lower tone, looking criti cally at James, who was standing up ; " still, Suez, I hear, is a likely place to find the beetle, and, if neces sary, Miss Moore can be of the party— a chaperon, Miss Claire expressed it. Dear me," he continued, " these matters connected with young ladies are very puzzling." "And this is Claire's lover,", thought Alice presently, as James Fitzgerald handed her on shore.

Chapter II. Egy'ptologist Mania

"He who hath not seen Cairo hath not seen the world." _ Arabian Nights. The usual crowd of idlers were gossiping on the balcony of that world-famed caravanserai, Shepheard's Hotel at Cairo, in November 1883, while England still trifled with Egyptian politics, and the hero of Khartoum was wandering on the wild Judean hills, unconscious of his coming martyrdom, for that tragedy of errors, the rescue of Gordon, was still to be played. The one daily train from Suez whistled through the dry, clear air as it approached the Cairo station, and a few minutes later an omnibus drove up to Shepheard's, from which descended Mr Knox, his daughter, Miss Moore, and a servant. They were received by the well-known manager, with his most popular smile and deepest bow, and their possessions distributed between half-a-dozen stout Arabs, while tbey entered the hotel, followed by Major Fitzgerald.

Some curiosity was visible among a few officers of the army of occupation who were on the balcony as the strangers passed in, for it was known that they were friends of James Fitzgerald's, whom he had gone to meet at Suez. Miss Moore passed unnoticed through the trying ordeal of arriving wearied and covered with dust, and being subjected under these unfavour able conditions to the criticism of older inhabitants, but Alice's figure at once attracted attention. Had her face, hidden by a veil, been seen, it would have drawn forth a chorus of wondering adjectives from the lounging subalterns ; as it was, the word " rip ping ! " with a generous roll of the first letter, was beard, while speculations were hazarded as to whether she rode, flirted, and, above all, danced well, which in Cairo was then, for a young woman, the one thing needful, and the part which she was probably destined to play on the social stage that winter was eagerly discussed.

" If face matches figure," said an elderly officer, leisurely knocking the ashes from his cigar upon the railings of the balcony against which he had been leaning, as he watched Alice pass in, " we shall have you fellows fighting like Kilkenny cats over her." " Say rather the women, sir," answered a smart looking youth. " She will have a hot time of it, I know, poor girl, for the green-eye'd monster will soon be about here." " Fitzgerald is a sly dog," said another, " to keep it so dark that an extra good-looking girl was coming out." " I suppose this is the girl he is engaged to," remarked the colonel. " It looks business-like, going to Suez. Men do not put themselves out in these un chivalrous days unless they are interested." " Engaged girls are not wanted here," answered the subaltern who had spoken first.

" Fitzgerald will have to look pretty sharply after his interests where there are such a lot of fellows always sitting in some woman's pocket," he continued scornfully. " It is just where I should look for you, should a search be necessary," answered the colonel. " Never mind, my boy," he went on, for there was a general laugh at the subaltern's expense, " keep in the pockets as long as you fit. When you come to my dimensions, it takes a well-lined one to support you, and they are hard to find." " I say, what high old times we would have," ex claimed the subaltern, " were Foster to take up with the new girl. He will do a lot of hanging about where there is beauty if only he can -get away from Mrs Carleton." " A man with a lot of money has to take jolly good care of himself," answered the colonel, " among these worldly young women looking oat for settlements versus love, and starvation with virtuous paupers like us officers, and the Carleton saves Foster the trouble."