'This is London Calling!'
He felt shaken and bruised, and there was a long red and blue welt on his left forearm, but what he did not like was the numb ness in his right ankle. He was trying to get up and stand but was unable to do so when Gauri came up to him, carrying his rifle.
Are you hurt?' she asked. 'Have you broken something?"
"Get out of my way!" he ordered.
She saw his binoculars lying a few feet away and brought them to him. Both the glasses were cracked.
"Damn!" said Henry.
"Can you get up?" she asked.
He ignored her and tried to raise himselt to his feet. Halfway through, he gave up the attempt and fell back with a groan. His body had broken into a cold sweat.
"Blast! I've twisted my ankle."
Try and stand up. Try and walk on it,' said Gauri, pulling him up. "He had to put his full weight on her before he could stand up but as soon as she released her hold he again crumpled to the ground.
The sweating was quite bad now, and his limbs shook. He mutely put out his hands again and she pulled him to his feet. Lean on my shoulder,' said Gauri. 'Let me see if I can carry you."
'Oh, no!" he said, recoiling. 'I can't!"
I'm used to carrying heavy loads, she returned. 'Remember the sack of tea leaf? That's better. See if you can manage to take a step now."
He gritted his teeth, took a hesitating step forward, and then another, but he could manage to put one foot in front of the other only when she bore most of his weight on her shoulder.
And that was how he reached home that afternoon, nearly an hour later, leaning heavily on Gauri's shoulders. At the gate of the bungalow she stopped and told him to call out to his own servants. Leaning his weight against the gate-post, Henry yelled for the number-one boy, and soon his servants came rushing down the drive. He turned to speak to Gauri, but she had already slipped away.
Thank you,' he said to the emptiness behind him. Jean too had come running. She was wearing the same clothes Henry had already seen her in, and her face was white with anxiety.
'It's just a bruise, nothing to worry about," he assured her, and his voice to himself sounded perfectly natural.
She sent one of the servants to bring a chair, and on it the ser- vants carried him into the bungalow. His night ankle had swollen enormously, and the number one boy had to cut his boot before he could ease his foot out of it.
'Send for Rao, the dresser,' said Henry to the boy.
"Shouldn't we telegraph for Dr. Lewis?' asked fean.
'Doctor? No. Just send for the dresser. Boy! Bring me a drink. Whisky."
The boy brought a bottle of John Haig and poured out a drink.
'Leave the bottle,' said Henry, 'just leave it there on the table."
'Is the pain very bad?' asked Jean.
The pain was a dull, incessant throb. Henry gulped his whisky down and put the glass down on the table before he spoke. Pain? No. Hardly any pain. It's just a sprained ankle.
"It looks pretty bad: I hope you haven't gone and broken a bone or something."
What was that? No bloody fear!" he snapped at her in sudden irritation. 'Dammit!-it won't do any good to go acquiring a game leg, what? Not at this stage."
What was she trying to insinuate the damned virgin-faced. pink-bellied she-lizard? Suggesting that he might have broken a bone. Did she imagine he was making it out to be worse than it was?
And out of nowhere, Cockburn's words came back to him with startling vividness, drunken and heavily slurred. "Try and acquire a game leg now, so that when the time comes you won't have to go!"
He looked at her face, but could read no signs of guilt. She looked pale, and the lines between her eyes had deepened, but she did not look the least bit nervous. What was she thinking about?-sitting by his chair looking dutifully worried and anxious and so utterly innocent. What was going on behind those azure blue English eyes?
Rao, the dressing assistant from the first-aid station, came waddling in, a short and dumpy coal-black south Indian wearing a trim, snow-white turban. He was smiling and bowing and feeling important, for this was the first time he had been called to the inanager's house.
Henry winced as the cold, pudgy fingers of the Indian probed his throbbing ankle. Was it the sudden stab of pain or was it the black man's touch on his bare white leg, the soft, clammy fingers like black Portuguese sausages, pressing gently to locate the centre of the pain, that had made him jerk his foot back with a curse?
'Never mind the bloody diagnosis! he snapped at the dressing assistant. Just get on with the treatment."
The dressing assistant shrank visibly and his chatter stopped. He worked in sullen silence, daubing layers of todine on the ankle and tying an elastic bandage 1ound it. When he was finished, he stood up and salaamed, waiting for Henry's permission to go. That should settle it,' said Henry. "Don't you think?"
'I don't know, saar. If there is no more swelling to-night, it will be all right within a week. Otherwise it may take much longer." There is not going to be any further swelling to-night-or any other night,' said Henry. 'And it's not going to take more than a few days, a week at the most. You may go now. Give me a drink, boy! A proper drink-damn you" The dresser folded his hands and went waddling out, and as soon as he had reached his quarters he must have told everyone about Henry's accident. Within half an hour, a deputation of the senior supervisors and other officials came to make inquiries: And Henry received them sitting in an armchair in the verandah and spoke a few words to each of them while Jean sat next to him saying nothing. It was just as the supervisors had gone away that the number one boy came and told him that Eddie Trevor was waiting to see him.
It was all he could do to avoid looking at Jean. I must keep cool, Henry reminded himself. What could Trevor be wanting to see him about? Did he want to confess?-to put himself at his mercy? or did they both mean to brazen it out and tell him that they were in love with each other?
Or had Trevor just come to see how badly Henry had injured himself?
You'll be wanting to hear the six-thirty news, won't you?' said Jean, rising from her chair. 'It's not six-thirty yet,' he pointed out. 'Don't you want to see
Trevor? Show Trevor sahib in, boy, and bring out an extra chair,' he told the boy. Eddie Trevor came in, buoyant, poised, relaxed, and smiling
'Good evening, sir,' he said to Henry; 'Good evening, Jean,' to her
and took the chair placed for him by the boy. No use offering you a drink?' said Henry.
'No, thank you."
'Or a cigarette?"
No, thank you.' Trevor said, and laughed, flashing his strong, even teeth. They'll want me to play hockey for the army now."
Come to think of it, I haven't been smoking myself for the whole of last week-since I started going after the elephant. But
I seem to be drinking more than ever." 'I'll go and put on the news,' said Jean. She got up and went into the sitting room without once looking at Eddie Trevor.
Was she going in because she wanted to leave them to them- selves so that they could talk things over?-trying to make it easier for Trevor to tell him that he was in love with his wife? Suspicions went racing through his mind, one after the other. He took a quick look at Trevor's face, trying to read some sign of nervousness, but found nothing save the usual bland, boyish look of innocence, the eager half-smile ready to break out at the slightest encouragement.
Boy!' Henry called. 'Drink
"How did it happen, sir?" Trevor was asking.
What? Oh, just slipped down the khud. Smashed my Ross binoculars. Damned shame!"
'I hope you haven't... haven't brokea anything."
'No, no; it's just a sprain. No question of acquiring a game leg at this time-no bloody fear." We were all sure you were going to get that elephant, the way ... the way you were going out for him every day, from morning till night.' That was right, every day from morning till night. Every day. Leaving the coast absolutely clear. What was he trying to get at? -the adulterous half-caste. It would queer their pitch all right if he had to stay put in his bungalow from now on, not going out. Or would it? Was that why he had come? To arrange some other way of meeting her?
There was a blare of music from the radio in the next room followed by the chimes of Big Ben. This is London calling,' the sincere, cultivated voice of Stuart Hibberd announced. Here is the news. The six-thirty news had begun.
Had you managed to locate the elephant?" Trevor was asking. 'I was going to kill him to-morrow,' said Henry very coldly.
To-morrow?'
'Exactly between seven and seven-thirty in the morning."
'Really?
Nearer seven than seven-thirty. I have got him used to coming to a particular spot at sunrise every morning: regular as clockwork and at a place chosen by me, so that it would have been a fairly simple matter to kill him. There is an enormous fallen tree for shelter. I was going to bump him off at sunrise to-morrow, at thirty yards range.' All measured tool remarked Trevor, visibly impressed. 'By Jove! Is the tree...er, absolutely safe?"
'Safe to fire at an elephant from; not if you missed your shots. It would give you concealment, something to hide yourself behind so that you saw him before he could see you, so that you could get your shots in before he knew you were there. But that was all anyone could want. I could have fired a dozen shots into him before he could reach me."
'Oh, what a pity!" said Trevor. And now you'll have to wait till your leg is all right: maybe a couple of weeks before you can tackle him.
Henry shook his head. It won't be all that simple. This is a wandering elephant. A chance like this may never come again. It is...it is something like a tiger who has taken a kill, and is being kept fed with more bait buffaloes till the hunter is ready. It was absolutely foolproof. All I had to do was to wait. It's taken a whole week to work out, a whole week of going out from morning to sunset, and he stared defiantly into Trevor's eyes. From dawn till sunset, he repeated. Was there a new glint in those wide black eyes with the heavy, Indian lashes? Henry wondered. If so, what did it mean?
"What rotten luck.' Trevor sympathized. 'Bloody rotten luck,' Henry agreed. 'Damnable!' His head was feeling strangely light, and the shooting pain in his ankle had dis- appeared almost completely. Now there was just a dull, all-over numbness. The whisky was doing him good.
Trevor gave a nervous laugh. I was actually going to ask you if you would mind if I went after the elephant for the next few days....
What was he saying, the grinning, half-black bastard? was he actually offering to take on the one-tusker?
'I mean, only till your leg is all right. I was wondering if I could not take over. But of course I hadn't realized how neatly you had organized it all. Now I feel it would really not be fair to ask you to let me go and kill the rogue....
Oh, no; of course not! So you feel it would not be fair to take away my elephant; you don't think anything, anything at all, about taking my wife. You have such a delightfully refined sense of values, Mr. Eddie Trevor.
The mellifluous voice of Stuart Hibberd was telling an anxious world something about aircraft production and the changes of military command and about the US Government being concerned over the violation of American territorial waters.... according to a Washington announcement, the United States Government has appointed a committee of investigation under the chairman- ship... Hibberd was saying.
Henry was not interested in aircraft production or the concern of the US Government over the violation of territorial waters. He was trying hard to concentrate on what Eddie Trevor was saying. The same nerve in his head which had been throbbing earlier in the day had begun its insane pounding once more, Was he going to faint? While Eddie Trevor was looking on? He gripped his chair hard and shook his head and took a deep breath, trying to regain control of himself.
... and I came, thinking of asking you for the loan of your rifle until your ankle heals, so that... The throbbing nerve had stopped just as suddenly as it had started, not leaving a black-out as he had feared, but a patch of clear, cold light. So you're thinking of going after the one-tusker?" asked Henry. At last his thoughts seemed to be focussing on what Trevor was saying. 'Yes, sir."
And you want to borrow my four-sixty-five?"
"That was what I had in mind."
'And cartridges too, you said."
'Yes, sir. But when I came here, I didn't know you had... you had nearly got the elephant on a plate. For me to go and shoot him now would be hardly fair." "Boy! shouted Henry. 'Boy! Give me a drink, whisky; juldi!"
The boy came and poured out a drink and opened a fresh bottle of soda and topped the glass with it. Henry picked up the drink and tossed it down in one long draught. 'Bring my walking stick." he ordered.
The boy brought the thick, rubber-tipped Malacca cane and handed it to Henry, and Henry dismissed him with a nod. 'So you were thinking of going after the elephant? Henry asked again.
Yes, sir; if you have no objection."
"Objection! Lord, no! It's not my private elephant. Henry drew in his breath and added. "And you wanted my rifle and car tridges?' Yes, Mr. Winton."
Henry peered at Eddie Trevor with a new interest, sitting on the green painted chair and leaning forward in his eagerness; his black hair falling over one eye in a thick wave, his wide, innocent eyes shining brightly; and a trick of light made his figure go smaller and smaller until he became just a minute, black-topped khaki speck in the distance, puny and insignificant, like an ant or a beetle, to be crushed at will.
To be crushed at will!
Henry put back his head and laughed.
It is a damned dangerous business,' he said. 'Perhaps more dan- gerous than you realize."
'Not with the four-sixty-five in one's hands, and if one can see him clearly. Can one?"
'Oh, yes; very clearly. Look, if you really do want to go. I wouldn't mind letting you have my rifle and telling you exactly where he is going to be."
'Oh, Mr. Winton! I shall be most grateful. Yes, I really do want to go; if you have no objection, that is. It will be a hell of a thing to have shot a rogue elephant everyone is talking about; a feather in my cap, just before I go away." I'll bring out the bandook then,' said Henry, and rose to his feet, leaning his weight heavily on his stick. 'Be careful, Mr. Winton! Couldn't the boy bring out the rifle and cartridges?"
Henry stood rocking to and fro in front of his chair. He gave Trevor a broad wink and laughed. A man's ammunition cup- board, Eddie, is a terribly personal thing. No one should be per- mitted to have access to it. If they mix up the cartridges, there are bound to be accidents."
'Can't I help, please?"
No, thank you, Eddie; I shall manage,' Henry assured him, feel- ing light and jovial, suddenly happy: at peace with himself and the world. The cards were falling just right, at last. It was going to be easy, too easy, he kept telling himself as he went shuffling across the verandah into the gun-room, holding on to the walls and fur- niture and leaning on his cane. In a few moments, he was back.
carrying his big elephant gun and a box of cartridges. Trevor took the four-sixty-five from his hands, almost with rever- ance, his eyes shining. 'Oh, what a beautiful thing! So this is the rifle Pasupati had told me was no good-the fool.""
What's that? Oh, that boy! He's not all there. Here are the cartridges. There are sixteen in that box. Enough?
'Enough for half a dozen elephants at least, I should think,' said Trevor confidently. "Thanks; thanks ever so much."
'Well, I'm afraid it will just have to be enough. Can't get car- tridges any more, in wartin. Got to be terribly careful with what- ever one has." 'Oh, I won't waste even one; you can be sure of that, Mr. Winton. Now please tell me where this spe is and all that." "Yes, of course, Eddie, of course. fl. draw a sketch for you.... Just one thing. I don't think it would do to take a shikari or anyone. I mean... 'Oh, of course not!' Trevor assured him. I want to do this on my own."
That would be the only way,' said Henry, and began to make the sketch.
The BBC news had just finished when Trevor rose to go. "Commentary after the news will follow in thirty seconds from now,' said the announcer, and a blare of loud martial music came on to fill the interval.
Henry called out to his wife, Jean! What are you doing inside?
Eddie's waiting to say good night. Aren't you coming out?' But Jean did not come out. Henry Winton shook Eddie's hand warmly and said, 'Good luck. Eddie; excuse my not getting up again.
